Finding Beautiful Days

I started therapy while I was in the thick of cancer treatment and on the Lanreotide shot. The Lanreotide was killing me, and my depression/anxiety was off the charts. When I tell you therapy is one of the best things I ever did, I mean it with my whole chest. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say that loudly enough.

We grow up thinking we’re supposed to be superheroes— even when life is falling apart around us.

Back then, I’d sit in sessions crying because I couldn’t even take my kids out without getting sick. I had to carry disposable throw-up bags everywhere because I never knew when the nausea would hit. And “when it would hit” really meant constantly, because I couldn’t stop vomiting bile.

At the time, I was still under care with a team I trusted, even when they told me this was just my new normal. I tried to accept that. I really did. I tried to make peace with the idea that this was just my life now.

But today?
Today is different.

After my reconstructed Whipple through East Jefferson Cancer Center, I finally feel better. Better enough to take my kids out. Better enough to laugh without bracing for sickness. Better enough to live in moments that once felt stolen from me.

And I cherish that more than I can put into words.

Last Thursday, Ellie and I planned a sweet little Valentine’s outing at the salon where my adopted niece works. Hair, lunch, laughs. Ellie loves being part of anything with the girls and having fun, so we were excited for our day.

We had our hair done. We shopped the boutique next door. We giggled like best friends instead of mother and daughter. We met up with my husband for lunch while he was on break. Then Ellie and I lingered over our own meal, talking and laughing like time wasn’t real.

Just the best dang day.

For most people, a day like that is simple. Ordinary. Forgettable even.

But for me— on this side of everything— it’s sacred.

I see the beauty in it now.
I hold it tight.
I give thanks for it.

Yes, part of me is still scared it could all be taken away again because of my body. That fear doesn’t fully disappear after any stage/treatment for cancer.
But what has changed is this:
I fight for these days now.
I savor them.
I live them wide open.

Because beautiful days aren’t promised. They’re given.

And when they show up— I receive them with both hands.

When I tried on the Mardi Gras sunglasses, Ellie didn’t think I would buy them. I had to! So festive and fun. Our hair was done by Michaela at Xpression’s Salon in Ponchatoula. And, even though I am losing my hair again, this time it is due to medication I have started for Lupus/Sjogren’s. Drop any tips below to help with hair loss! :)

Our meal was from Tope’ La, one of our favorite places in Hammond, LA. I got the Chicken Fried Steak, and Ellie got the Chicken Pasta bake.