maldreathezora:

Welp, it’s August. Where the hell did June and July go?



Well, I spent them getting absolutely wrecked by recovering from my brain radiation: side effects from steroids, intense brain pain that opiates barely touched, nightmares, hallucinations, memory loss, ER visits, dehydration problems, infections, chemo and plenty of other crap. (Hell, I didn’t sleep for most of June.) My husband and I found ourselves utterly overwhelmed, we both fell into depression, and I had to move back to my parents’ for care. (We’re both doing better now and learning coping mechanisms, and unlearning an unhealthy habit of not asking for help.)



I haven’t been taking selfies because I am now a dumpling. I have come to accept this fact. I am a mean, cancer fighting dumpling.



If someone had told me how bad the last two months were going to be, I would have never done brain radiation. I would have frozen in fear. That said, I did it, I got through the worst of it, and I’m still alive, much to my surprise.



Recovery is so slow. Every day is two steps forward, one step back. I’m still weak, tired, my limbs tremble, I get crazy anxious and I still feel brain pain (nothing like it was before). I’m lucky if I can shower, or do anything besides sleep. But it is getting better. Gradually. Slowly. So effing slowly.



There are good things coming from this. I’ve forgiven people I was holding grudges against and let a lot of that negative energy go. I empathize more with others’ emotions. And I’m not afraid of anything other than radiation. Nothing can touch me. I am titanium. I may cry every single day but it’s not a sign of weakness. The fact that I’m still here means I’m strong.



Anyway, I’m drawing again, which means I’m truly alive. It might only be a drawing or two per week for now, but I’ll keep healing. For me, to live is to draw.



Aug. 1, 2020

