I was texting Gina last night and told her my hair is starting to fall out. Her response was so pure and honest, “I don’t know what to say.”
I don’t know what to say – what a great thing to say when in fact you don’t know what to say. Instead of saying something that makes you feel better, you say the truth – when it might be hard to admit that in fact you don’t have all the answers and don’t know what to say.

Why is it so hard for us, as people, as friends, as family to be 100% honest with each other? Hey, I am 100% guilty of this as well. I will tell 98% of the truth when asked how I feel, when asked personnel things – I don’t know why. I think we are scared to be judged by others (of course we are, we all love to judge each other) or more so, we are scared if we tell the whole truth then when our situation changes, the person we told the whole truth to will still remember the whole truth and be in the past moment instead of in the present with what is happening now.

I honestly had a horrible day today. I sat in my car and cried – cried for me, cried for the fact that Eric and Ian are going to shave my head tonight, cried because we now really have to tell Ian something (or why in the hell or I let him help shave my head?), I cried because my stomach hurts from the laxatives I have to take, I cried because chemo is already shutting down my ovaries and with that brings much heartache…no hormones means NO hormones and NO of a lot that a healthy 32 year old woman should be, I cried because my mom and Gina’s husband both told me how beautiful I am bald, I just cried. All of this happened before I willed myself to walk up the two flights of stairs to get a shot that I didn’t want and while I sat in the waiting area I ate a nasty cup of soup from Whole Foods because I needed comfort and I didn’t want to call anyone because I honestly didn’t want to talk about it.

Laurie had even texted me to ask if I was okay because I had been on her mind – yes, I believe God was sending me an angel at that moment but I wasn’t ready to except His helping hand.

Even if I didn’t take God’s bate with Laurie, He sent me Sarah while I was waiting for my shot. Oh how I needed Sarah. She has been through this sh*t twice BUT they (her hubby and her) just had a baby from a sergeant with their own embryo – AWESOME! I needed her, I needed someone who understood why my bones hurt and just how they feel when they do hurt, I needed to talk to her, to see her sweet baby, to give her a hug of friendship and survivorship – I needed her.

I have no wise closing, no clever saying I just have honesty from me to you on this day.

3 Thoughts to “Honestly”

  1. Sweet Renee,

    I have been thinking about you daily and we pray for you and your sweet boys every night. Empower the baldness because it means that you are a STRONG survivor!! Beautiful is what you are … absolutely beautiful!

  2. Paula Rigling


    I have a photo of Janet, my college roommate, that was taken on the night her family shaved her head when her breast cancer came back as Stage 4. She is radiantly beautiful and I keep this photo displayed where I can see it several times a day and keep her in my prayers. I've seen photos of you when you were bald and I have no doubt your radiance will shine through again this time as well.

    Love You!

  3. Deborah Carroll


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