I never thought the day would come where I would be looking at my legs everyday, and praying I start to see hair again. It has been six weeks since my last chemo treatment, and yet the drugs are still having an affect on my body. I have decided that my leg hair coming back will be my first sign. Once that begins to grow, then I will know the drugs are coming out of my system. What I did not anticipate (although thinking about it, it makes sense), is the breakout I am having on my face. As those harsh chemicals begin to flush out of my system, my pores are screaming out. My face no longer resembles a moon, now it is more like a tomato. Again, just another fun thing I have to put aside in the “at least I am alive” pile. I am beginning to hate that saying. Well, maybe hate is a strong word. Either way it is getting annoying – as I feel it is becoming everyone else’s excuse, however it is not mine. I am not one to make excuses for anything.
“I hate that my pants do not fit” – Well at least you are alive.
“My stupid face is all broken out” – Well at least you are alive.
“Beach ready in my extra large, full piece, bathing suit” – Well at least you are alive.
“Do these heels match my tracksuit?” – Well at least you are alive.
Obviously I am thankful and grateful to be alive. That is not the point. I should still be aloud to speak like a regular young female who went from a size 4 to a size 14. It is an uncomfortable feeling. I look at old pictures of myself, and do not recognize that girl. Yet when I look in the mirror, the person staring back at me is also a stranger. So who am I really and who do I want to become? For now, I want to be the girl with hairy legs – that will be a great accomplishment.