It's The End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)

I am in the acceptance phase.

I think I am at least. We'll see. Still some trepidation around getting used to feeling okay and getting comfortable here but despite all that I am starting to.

I don't know how much of of this is me and how much is my body and the drugs doing their thing. I felt myself getting the beginnings of a sore throat on Tuesday night. I went home. I downed some OJ. I took probiotics for my intestinal health. I closed my windows, threw on some sweats, went to bed and hoped for the best. Wednesday morning I had planned on going spinning. I didn't. Instead I slept until I woke up, took a long hot shower and dressed warmly. I came to work armed with peppermint tea bags and Classic India Spice tea bags and drank a ton of grapefruit juice. I brought my yoga stuff but made myself promise that I wouldn't go unless I felt positively normal. Ultimately, I didn't go to yoga; I was a good girl. I ended up at home at a reasonable hour last night and again went straight to bed. Today I feel normal. I made it go away.

Being on chemotherapy means my immune system is compromised. So I have to be vigilant. Whenever I feel the stirrings of anything abnormal I must act immediately or I will end up miserable or worse, back in the emergency room - double miserable. That is my new life. I managed to fight off whatever started growing inside me on Tuesday. I won this time. Thus the acceptance. I will accept it if I can master it. I don't expect to ever fully be able to control it but if I can get the basic rules down I will be fine.

The rules are pretty simple. I have been hearing them for years from my father. I just never bothered to heed them before. I thought I was tougher, stronger and smarter than the rules. The rules are "pay attention" and "don't burn the candle on both ends." My lifestyle up until now was in direct opposition to those rules. As much as I was constructive and did some positive things in my life, I always managed to overload my life with more than my father thought was necessary. Was it necessary to have two boyfriends, train for a marathon and study for finals while maintaining a bustling social life? Probably not. And that was when it wasn't about my health. That was when it was merely about me securing a future. Now the stakes are higher. Poetic justice is a bitch isn't it.

But I am realizing that there is room for me to carve out a normal Briana-like existence in this new world. I just came back from an open bar at Lord & Taylor (where the BOSE headphones / get drunk caper just got pulled off with crazy finesse) where I had two vodka tonics, three martinis and a glass of champagne. I am bombed. I am not supposed to drink. And I am at work! Even more Briana-like. It feels pretty fucking good. I can still do this. I can still be me. Sometimes. Sometimes I can still be me. I just need to keep a careful watch on this health of mine and keep my eyes wide open all the time. Sorry I couldn't resist. But that's not so bad. So I have to leave early sometimes. So I can't always do what I say I'm going to do. So food doesn't have the same cache as it used to. So what. I can do this. I can. I can be me and I can be here on this island with this new language and follow these new rules. It's all about acceptance; not surrender. I am not giving up. I still hope every day that I am going to wake up and I am going to be in remission forever and that life is going to be back to what it was when I could stay out all night and run 20 miles the next day but I realize that I am 30-years old now and probably couldn't do that anyway. It's okay. I can definitely accept that.

The funniest mantra of my father's was when he'd tell me over and over again that the secret to success and prosperity was to be the 'long distance runner.' And look what I did; I became a long distance runner. Go figure.