Normalcy

It’s crazy how just one little word can have such an effect on someone. For me, that one little word is normalcy. The word is actually triggering for me, but I’m working on it.

Why? Well, let me tell you a little story…

Back in the spring of 2019 I was nearing the end of my 16 rounds, or 5 months rather, of chemotherapy treatments and I was starting to look for a plastic surgeon for the next phase of my journey. Beaten and broken from chemo, no hair on my head, fatigued as all hell, my insides feeling as if they’d been torn to shreds and I’m literally just clawing my way to the end of each day, minute by minute. Second by second sometimes.

Going to see plastic surgeons was no easy feat for me either, as I struggled with being examined and poked and prodded and looked at by random doctors, but it needed to be done. I was almost at the point of my double mastectomy procedure where I was literally having parts of my body removed because something inside of those parts of my body was in fact trying to kill me. So my life at this point in time, as it had been for months up until now, consisted of doing everything I could to not let this cancer win. Every minute, every second of every day I was fighting this gd awful evil disease. Instead of spending my down time with my husband, with my family, with my children - playing with Matthew and holding and feeding and playing with my baby Ryan, I was trying to fight cancer.

On this very afternoon, I was on my way home from my first plastic surgeon appointment in which I absolutely struggled with before I went in, while in the room and after I was done. I was by myself because I just needed to be by myself for this. After the appointment was over I spent about 15 minutes or so in my car, pretty emotional while I tried to process and work through what was happening. I got myself together, opened my windows, blasted my music and started driving home. It’s now a gorgeous afternoon. The sun is shining, it’s about 65 degrees out, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. My sunroof is open, my hat is off and the air feels amazing on my hairless head. My music is blasting and I’m finally okay. Then, I have to pass through the town that I work in. As I pass by the street where the middle school is, I see 2 colleagues walking to their cars. I hadn’t been working for months and would’ve loved to pull over to say hi but the very moment I thought of it, was the very moment I started to cry. I cried so hard that I did have to pull over, but I did so where no one would see me. And then it dawned on me - it’s Monday, it’s around 4pm and these colleagues that I see walking to their cars, they are coming out of a staff meeting. They are walking to their cars to go home to make dinner and to play with their young kids, to spend the rest of this beautiful afternoon and evening with their families, in their normalcy just as I once did. As I once did. I don’t do that now. Normalcy for me has changed. Now my life consists of doctors and plastic surgeons and chemo and cancer and being tired and feeling sick and trying not to die. I used to be them, happily walking to my car on a beautiful, sunny day after a day of work. Now I go home to sleep, to take medicine, to see my kids but can’t do anything with them or for them. My normal has changed. And once this is over, my normal will never be the same normal that it once was.

I watched these colleagues walk to their cars and then I watched them drive off. I then was eventually able to pull myself together and drive home myself. Home I went to my kids, to my husband, to call my parents, to talk about my plastic surgeon visit instead of whatever else we used to talk about, to try to eat some food for dinner, to take medicine and to hopefully stay awake to see my kids and maybe hold my almost 1 year old son for awhile. Holding him was still hard because I was weak.

So what does the word normalcy do to people like me? It reminds us that we will never fully return to what life was like before cancer. What we are living now, IS our new normal. And there is nothing wrong with a new normal. My kids normalcy is different today than it was before I got sick. I can no longer do a lot of the things I used to be able to do without struggling… laundry, putting away dishes, lifting something heavy, cutting food, stamina and keeping up with my kids. I used to run around with Matthew all of the time before I got sick. Now, it’s hard for me to do that. I can’t do what was once normal for us. We all had to adapt and we are okay.

And with the pandemic happening, we were all keeping germ free over here well before it became the “new norm” for everyone. I remember having Ryan’s 1st birthday party at my house in May of 2019 and it having to be inside and I had hand sanitizer bottles everywhere. And signs saying that we weren’t kissing or hugging anyone as I was in the midst of chemo treatments and had to be super careful. So everyone’s new normal that they all had such a hard time with during this pandemic, was our every day normal. Matthew could never understand why it was so hard for kids to wear a mask and be careful because he always had to be careful before the pandemic even started. And he knows that some of us will never go back to what everyone considers to be their own “sense of normalcy”. In my family, we still have to be careful sometimes.

So now as everyone prepares to return to their “sense of normalcy” just keep in mind that some of us will always live in this “un-normal” land. Even our kids. And we will all continue to be okay. There’s nothing wrong with a new normal sometimes. Some of us have no choice.