Picture Perfect

I had a good friend here visiting from Japan this past week and we only took one picture.
Sad, right.
I am not sure if it is because we were having such a good time doing nothing really extravagant that we didn't think about taking pictures or because we are getting old and taking pictures wasn't our priority.

Either way, I wish we had at least a few more to document our time together.

When we realized our folly of not taking pictures, we started taking about pictures and that led to a conversation about how you "picture" a cancer patient.

*Sickly
*Bald
*Really fragile
*Sunken cheeks
*wearing a mask to keep germs away
*In bed
*Unable to function

At least that was the picture that we had in our heads. It is the picture I had when I was first diagnosed.

I don't actually fit that picture. (bits and pieces of it sometimes) but....
For all intents and purposes I am pretty much picture perfect.

I mean, I have always been photogenic (right Uncle Jeff?) and only have good pictures of myself.
Take for instance the time that I shaved off part of my eyebrows before school pictures.
Still adorable.

 Or maybe the time that I wore a pink sweatsuit and fake glasses and hideous blue velcro shoes.
Still cute.

 Or maybe the time that I decided plastic pants over my cloth diaper was enough to wear in order to be in a picture with my dad and brother (I still don't know why they are in the trunk of the car, but who am I to judge).
Still pretty darling.

 Which brings us to today.
I don't actually look like a cancer patient.

I am pretty much Picture Perfect -- you look at me and you don't see cancer. 
Super cute hair....yes, that you do see. 

You can't take a picture of worry or stress, although I am sure it shows on my face.
You can't take a picture of cancer cells inside my body (well technically you can, it's just really expensive and you have to drink something nasty or get some sort of an injection and then have a scan -- which I guess we will get a picture of next week!).
You can't take a picture of hurt.
You can't take a picture of fear of the unknown.
You can't take a picture of tired.  (Well, here is a picture of tired, but even this doesn't fully show how tired I really am, every. single. day).

I am not really that strong or physically fit anymore. You don't want a picture of that.
I sleep a lot more than I used to. You've seen plenty of pictures of that.
I throw up and feel nauseous at the first smell that sets me off. Again, don't want a picture of that.
I forget a lot of things and blame it on chemo brain (totally legit). Can't really take a picture of that.
I love stronger and feel more. But those things can't really be pictured.

Cancer has changed me. It's changed the picture of me.  Both literally and figuratively.  

I look at the pictures of what I "used to be" and sometimes I am sad.

That isn't me anymore.
I am much stronger, even though I am physically weak.

I am much more emotional sensitive (Eric may not actually love this about me)
I am much more aware of every moment we have.
I am much closer to my Heavenly Father.  Or at least getting there.

I am sure your picture of life, and yourself changes often also.

I would like to think that right now, today is picture perfect.  Cancer and all.  I don't really want to go back to the picture of me 4 or 5 or 10 or 20 years ago. I just want enjoy the picture of now, as hard as it is.  And really, I sorta just love this picture...almost as much as the one on our wedding day when we had no idea what we would be up against. 

He loves me cancer and all.