Saying goodbye to my mama was heart breaking but at the same time I was so happy and blessed to have spent 4 amazing weeks with her. I had met new people, reconnected with old friends and really had the best vacation ever. Most of them knew about my battle but did not treat me like a sick person. I kept hearing “Mbona hukai mgonjwa” and my reply was always “nani mgonjwa!!”
My second chemo session had been a walk in the park. Maybe it was the sun or my mama or the splendiferous(yeeeees it’s a word) food or the company. Whatever it was I was feeling better than I had in months.
At the airport I hugged my mama and told her I loved her. She was not going to see me cry, I was not going to. I checked in, waved goodbye and saw her fade away. Then I felt this sharp piercing pain in my heart. I did not want to leave, I was not ready to leave, but I had to. In Kenya I had not had time to think about being sick, life there did not let me think. But now I was going back, back to chemo, back to medicines, back to the cold. When it’s cold, it gets dark quickly and people are less happy. I did not want to go back to that.
Once I was seated I made a few calls and said goodbye to my mama and my friends.
It was time to leave. I said a prayer an asked Jehovah to take care of my mama.
The moment the plane took off I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I was leaving my home, The place were my mama was. I was
And then we landed………..
It was winter. Every thing looked cold, dark and gloomy. The trip back home was almost as long as the flight. I got home 6 hours after landing(usually the train trip is 2 hours 20 minutes). Now I am a very peaceful person but that day my alter ego came out. Woe unto anyone that dared cross me.
I was back home on the 30th of March and my next chemo session was going to be on the 3rd of April. I had a few days to settle in and go through my mail. You would think these people will leave you alone but Nooooooo…….. bills after bills. I wanted to board the next flight back to Kenya.
Normally I write a whole post and dedicate it to my treatment. Like I did about the first session. 2nd session I was super woman travelling and being merry. My mind was in denial. Denial because I thought that the first session is always the worst. Denial because the second session was a walk in the park. I had those two sessions in mind when I was in front of the mirrior contouring(it takes alot of work to look flawless) my face as I got ready for my third session.
When I got to the hospital I was shown into my room. The nurse had a hard time finding a vain to insert the drip. I was taken to the anastheologist’s wing. The anesthesiologist kept wiggling the needlle back and forth. She made me feel like I was a turkey that was being basted. She also kept telling me that “Your skin is different, we are not used to it”. She finally got the vain and I was wheeled back to my room.
So,,,, eeeuuuhhmmm. What or how do I describe my third session?? Actually I can decribe it in one sentence… Just one!!!!!!. It will sum up how the session went the minute the drip started.
I CRIED THE WHOLE TIME.
The pain was out of this world. I cried till I couldn’t cry anymore. And when I was done crying, I cried some more. In between the sobs was the nausea. They gave me medicine against the nausea but they could not help me with the pain. 4 hours of non stop crying.
Eeeehhhh wacha tu!!!!! The make up I wasted that day, I looked like a clown. Mascara running down my face,,,,all the make up around my eyes gone,,concealer stopped concealing. They should have tear proof make up because Tufiakya if you are caught in the rain after 2 hours of applying make up that makes you look like you are in a witness protection programme. Walking down the street and even the people looking for you have no idea it’s you yet you are standing right next to them.
After a day in the hospital I still had two weeks of chemo drugs. The first week was spent elegantly throwing up… ok as much as that was my intention, there is no way to elegantly throw up. But a girl can try!!
There is no shame in crying,,,, none at all.
“It’s my party and i’ll cry if I want to, cry if I want to. You would cry tooo if it happened to you”. Remember that song???? If you have never watched problem child you should. Anyway it was my party and I cried my heart out.
That was my third session in a nutshell. I cried. Did I feel better? No I did not. It was still cold. I was still in pain. I was not going to host a dinner party or travel.
I cried. That’s all I did. They say crying is good for the soul. I cried. 3 hours. Who cries for 3 hours????? That much crying has to be good for the soul.
It has to be.