It is obvious to anyone now that I have cancer, or that I am having Chemo. The cancer doesn't cause you to look this way. It is the cure that does this. You know the look, not just the hair loss. If you see someone wearing a hat that is obviously bald that is not a sure sign but I am at the point where the lashes are gone and there are circles under my eyes. Most of the time there is not much color to me, I am a ghost. My skin is dry and flaky and I look a little like an alien. My face is puffy, as are my hands. Yes, I now look like a Cancer patient. I stare at this strange person in the mirror. I wonder who she is. I don't see me there.
The way I look on the outside is not who I feel like and so each time I see myself it sort of shocks me.
I'm a little blue tonight. And I can't sleep. I went to sleep earlier, too early really and now I'm wide awake. I'm tired. I'm weary. I'll be ok. I'm tough you know. I search in the mirror beyond the puffy face, into my eyes. I search for a spark, a light, but even my eyes stare back at me empty. I don't like that. I need to see something in my eyes. I need to see a tiny piece of me left, that piece that has faith and hope and desire. And passion. But nothing is there. Where have I hidden that part of me? When will I be back and who will I be? And then I see something. It is compassion. Compassion to my own self. Compassion to all those who've walked this path before me and after me and with me. Those eyes, dark and lashless and empty show compassion to my own soul and others, for all the hurt and fear and unknowns. My Spirit is still right there if I stare long enough and then I smile and there is light there too.So I must remember to smile, keep smiling. And I know it will be alright.