To Jamaica and Beyond...

Phew...there is a lot that has happened since my last blog post. I hope I can manage to keep this a "post" and not a novel!

~~JAMAICA~~

So...I am not gonna lie. Jamaica was warm and sunny and beautiful and easy and fun. The resort was wonderful. My family was awesome. Everyone had a fabulous time. Except there were times that I didn't. 

Turns out, I am not as secure and mature and stable and "together" as I had hoped to be. Turns out, that in a tropical paradise full of normal-looking people on a vacation, I looked and felt like a fat, bald cancer patient on vacation. I tried. I tried really hard to not care and to not be self-conscious. And it is perfectly possible that no one gave a flying whoop tee doo how big and fat and bald I was. But, there were times I just felt better hiding out in the room. Just being alone. For maybe the first time since this journey began, I felt very very different. And I was PISSED. Pissed at myself for allowing my insecurities to steal even a moment of my happiness while vacating. And pissed at the world for the simple fact that I have to go through any of this. I shake my chubby little fists at the world..."Why me"?!

Look out Jamaica...here we come! (FYI...most people on the plane looked at me with fear. They clearly seemed to think that I had something that was contagious and I was trying to protect THEM from me. One guy asked me a lot of questions about my health...I find I actually prefer this over the stares and fearful looks. God bless him.)

On Day 2 of Jamaica Vacation, we went river tubing and zip-lining. This was pretty much full of the awesome. It was a bit disorganized and maybe too laid back at times for us type-A Americans (I am referring to my husband here), but in the end, it was a really great experience and I would recommend it. It started out with a 45-minute drive through some scary-arse (OMG is there a gun on this van?) parts of Jamaica and then up a rugged, bumpy, gravelly and very narrow mountain road. I was impressed that we survived this part. I think this was all part of the "adventure" and thankfully I didn't poop my pants (it was touch and go there and I said a lot of "oh dear"s) because that would have made for a very unpleasant rest of the day.

 

River-tubing was relaxing and refreshing, with a few moments of excitement (as you can see from my expression above). Zip-lining on the other hand, for me, was exhausting with a few moments of sheer terror tossed in between. I WOULD (yes, would) recommend it to anyone. It's safe. It's cool. I am glad I tried it. But, seriously, I can live the rest of my life never doing it again. We hiked up a pretty significant trail to our first and highest platform. To most people, this hike was a breeze. To cancer patient, Vashni, with what turned out to be a seriously low level of red blood cells, this climb nearly destroyed me. I collapsed...somewhat dramatically... in a heap of heaving sweat at the top and missed most of the instruction and order that was being disseminated to us zippers. Perhaps...this is why I found less enjoyment in the flying through the air and running full-force into a tree 100 feet off the ground than the other zippers.  Regardless, I flew through the trees 3 times, cursed at my husband on each platform between each "flight" and eventually made it safely to the ground. One of the other zippers asked me if I liked it...my response "Meh".

Doesn't my husband look like the biggest most lovable dork? I love him.

The evenings on the trip are starting to blend together in my memory, but for the sake of this blog, let's just say...we got back from our adventure, showered, fell down the steps (yuppers...that's me...graceful as ever!), had dinner and then went to walk the beach. Only, on our way to the beach...the Sesame Street characters started performing on the main stage. I had some sort of very bizarre moment here. Watching Grover and Bert and Ernie and Elmo singing and dancing to Cotton Eye Joe...I became OVERCOME with emotion. I have NO IDEA what this was about, but something about Grover and Cotten Eye Joe broke me open in a way I haven't been in awhile. Within 5 minutes I found myself in a bathroom stall crying and begging and pleading to God to let me live. To let me understand why this is happening to me. To give me the strength to beat this. To let me be open to whatever the universe is trying to say to me while in Jamaica and to see and hear the "angels" that are among us and among the vacationers in Jamaica. I begged God to allow this trip to restore me and replenish my "fight". I came home needing a blood transfusion and I am pretty sure I didn't have any major spiritual epiphanies while in Jamaica, but that conversation I had with God in the bathroom stall was one of the most real raw moments I have had in a long time. I hope it doesn't just mean that I am crazy in the head. I hope he heard me and I hope none of the other restroom-goers did. 

The rest of the trip really is a blur. I had my emotional ups and downs. But, I also had fun. I watched my husband sing for the first time ever (I laughed so hard I nearly peed my pants), watched my step-daughter and husband particpate in some sort of dance-off, drank boat drinks, ate ice cream, got my chubby-arse stuck on the water slides, met Mama Claire's twin sister (perhaps my Jamaican angel encounter) during the martini and chocolate party, watched my husband traverse 4 floors, a hallway and half a walkway with his fly down and shirt tail hanging out...hee hee hee. It was a blast. 

~~AND BEYOND~~

By the time we arrived back in Baltimore, I was literally a walking zombie. I hurt everywhere. My entire spine throbbed and I felt like walking was nearly impossible. My heartrate soared at the slightest activity and I was gasping for breath just walking 5 feet. I was very scared and so I pretty much stayed in bed for 2 days and monitored my own vital signs to make sure I was still alive. Ha ha. 

Guess what...I am still alive!! Turns out my red blood cell and platelet counts are quite low. Blood transfusion low. This is all part of chemo...but new to me. Seems that I was pretty spoiled during my first rounds of chemo. I tolerated it well. I felt good. I could still go about my business like it was no one's business. I thought I was fatigued, but now I know...I was so NOT fatigued. Since starting my new cocktail...all those things they tell you about in cancer books about dealing with chemo and the side effects...all those things my fellow cancer surviviors warned me about...NOW I get it. I FEEL like a cancer patient now and it pretty much sucks. But, I know that this destruction of my red blood cells must mean that those bad cancer cells are getting destroyed too. Knowing why I was feeling so bad and that there is a "solution" and it doesn't mean I am at an immediate risk of keeling over has definitely renewed my "fight". It's gonna be a-ok. My primary care doctor today kept talking about when I am "in remission". I like that he talks this way. Like it's a FACT, not just a possibility. A FACT. 

So...tomorrow I get a blood transfusion. A boost of someone else's juicy oxygen-filled red blood cells and will hopefully feel a lot better (I already feel a bit better). Thursday, comes the port. I keep referring to this as my "port intsallation" as if I am a machine or something. Maybe I am. Hmm. Friday is chemo. My body will go through the wringer this week. But, I will come out the other side. I will. Big, fat and bald....but ALIVE. 

My #1 resolution for 2012: To SURVIVE and to THRIVE!!