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The Way That Dyba Responds To Summer Madness

The Way That Dyba Responds To Summer Madness

If you tell me that hearing 'Summertime' doesn't make you want to do cartwheels on a rooftop with a beer in hand, then you, my friend are just not a human being. There, I said it. 

Of course, throw cancer in there, and it sort of changes the summertime plan just a smidge. Given my up in the air chemo schedule, and mounting fatigue, I need to be very strategic on how I orchestrate my summer schedule. When people ask me to do something, I immediately have to look at my calendar and see if it is a chemo week. If it is, then that means my body is in vigilante mode, and my immune system is on lockdown. As much as I am trying not to let cancer define me, it certainly is showing up where it isn't wanted. All over my summer plans. 

There is, however; a fine line between ginger shot taking, hazmat suit wearing chemo Dyba, and Summertime Dyba. I have been working very hard to really listen to my body, and read every single one of its cues. I am already hyper focused on health, but this experience as I have shared before has made me even more focused. (#psychotic) 

This past weekend I finally got my energy back to somewhat normal, and was itching to do something "summery." We made plans with our friends to hit up one of my fave NYC summer spots, Brooklyn Crab. Aside from the menu being incredible, the ambiance is fun as well. Cornhole boards, outdoor bar, Nantucket vibes. This was exactly what I needed to feel like a normal human again. 

As I have mentioned before, I have severely cut back on alcohol consumption while in treatment. I definitely don't drink on weeks I have chemo, but even weeks when I don't, I really only allow myself 1-2 drinks. I also haven't really been craving a drink, and have become obsessed with tea. (#newdyba) 

However, the ambiance and the incredible company at Brooklyn Crab had me craving a summer beer. The weather was gorgeous, and the cornhole game was kicking off. I enjoyed 2 beers, and felt like my old self. I am not saying that booze makes me feel like myself, I am merely saying that feeling lighthearted and carefree was feeling like my old self. 

I guess moral of the story is, this is a shitty hand. Cancer is a real shitty hand. You are constantly thinking about every outcome. You are constantly thinking about everything that goes in and on your body. Worrying is a way of life. It doesn't have to be that way. I am really trying to rewrite the book on cancer. I call it "Giving a fuck while not not giving a fuck." Simply put --> I care about myself and my health, but I am also here to live my life because I only get one. Thank you, cancer for reminding me of that. 

Key takeaways- I know this message seems redundant. But I write exactly what I am feeling in the exact moment. The trip to Brooklyn Crab was more to me than just a Saturday out with friends where I allowed myself a few beers. I felt like my old self again, and that is important to me. It is easy to lose yourself in your diagnosis. You are in survival mode. I had to dig really deep to pull the old Dyba out of hiding and let her have an afternoon where she wasn't worried about anything but having a good time. So if you are reading this and you are in this shit, remember that you need your old self more than you know right now. Cheers. 

 

White Blood Cells N' Sh*t

White Blood Cells N' Sh*t

All I Do is Sleep, Sleep, Sleep No Matter What

All I Do is Sleep, Sleep, Sleep No Matter What