...saying the word "Cancer". Saying "I have Breast Cancer". When I pull up my blog to do a new post, I see the pictures and I hear the music and I still want to cry, and sometimes I do. Just to make sure I feel better and don't bottle it all up. I guess I'm still in shock, maybe denial, maybe a little of both. I'm definitely still in the "why me?" and the "what the hell?" mode. I'm trying not to think about it, but it's hard. I'm trying not to talk about it, but it's hard. I'm trying not to live it, but it's impossible. I have to live it. It is me. It is right now. It is that chapter in our book and each day I turn the page hoping the chapter is over. All I want to do is spend time with the kids, but I'm so tired and worn out by 5pm, I don't like going anywhere. I'm too tired to go anywhere. I'm stuck in this vicious circle and can't escape. I am a mommy by day and a patient by night, and Chris is my nurse. (a damn good one too) I just can't imagine life any other way right now, and it's not fair. It's not fair to me, it's not fair to Chris and it's not fair to the kids.......but it is what it is and I can't change that. My mom recently was hospitalized and I couldn't go see her, and it was hard. But, I can't be around huge crowds, can't be in a germ infested hospital. Can't really go do a whole lot of stuff. Don't really want to either. I'm turning into a hermit. I just play with the kids during the day, play on the computer while they nap (if they nap) and play on my iPhone till bedtime. (because I don't want to watch TV and that's Chris' escape) So, I sit next to him on the couch, he rubs my feet or my shoulders, gets me water, makes me take my meds, and then I plug in my phone and head upstairs to bed. Repeat the next day. I'm a texter and an emailer. I'm kind of a tech dork....it runs in the family. I don't like talking on the phone, so if you've called me and I haven't returned your call, I either forgot, or just don't feel like talking. I like visitors, but I don't want to go anywhere, so you have to come to me. I'm just in a funk. Blah.......
I am just trying to take it one day at a time and not look forward too far. I can't imagine thinking anywhere past chemo or the next 21 weeks. If I've calculated right, I should be done with chemo 3 days before Christmas. I'm not sure if I'm excited about that, or if I will be clung to the bathtub puking my guts out on Christmas day. It's out of my hands, it's in God's hands, so we shall see. It would be about right though....Chemo through our 10 year anniversary and Brayden's birthday, sick and throwing up through Thanksgiving, Christmas and Chris' birthday, and starting radiation/recovery from mastectomy and lymph node removal around Kaylee's and my birthday and hopefully will have new boobs by Grayson's birthday. Afterall, he was my booby baby, so I guess it's only fitting, right? But you see why I can't really look too far. 12 months is a LONG time. Who knows if it's even going to be 12 months. It could be more, could be less. All I know is there HAS to be an end in sight. There HAS to be light at the end of the tunnel. I gave it all to God, and I know he won't fail me.
Oh, and to top things off, my memory is failing me.... I used to be on top of things, and I used to remember things, and now it's all I can do to finish a sentence by myself and use the correct words. I'm so distracted and can't handle more than one task at a time. SOOOOO not me! I can't remember what day it is, what todays date is, or what I'm even supposed to be doing. I often apply deodorant twice because I cannot remember for the life of me if I put it on to begin with. I can't remember to rinse my mouth 3x a day with saltwater, I can't remember to grab something before heading downstairs or grab a bottle of water before leaving the house, I can't remember to fax some paperwork that I've been meaning to fax for a week, I can't remember to apply bio oil to my scar twice a day. I lose my train of thought ALL the freaking time. This part sucks! I thought "pregnancy brain" or "milk brain" was bad but believe me "Chemo-brain" is WAY worse!
So, now I have to say "I have Cancer" AND "I have chemo brain" and just laugh about it....I have no other choice. It's the only thing that gets me through each day. Laughter.....
Laughter with my kids....
Laughter with my husband....
Laughter with my sister.....
Laughter with a friend....
Laughter with my parents....
Just laugh with me, not at me.
:-)
Ta-Ta for now.
Did you remember to listen to the CD that I made for you? It has 2 songs by Michael W. Smith that are so good. I listened to them in the hospital. "Healing Rain" and "Let it Rain".
ReplyDeleteMaybe you could listen to them. Anyway, I am praying for you right now.
God, let Peace, love and joy..please flow over my baby daughter, Tiffany, right now. Let her know that You are with her and You are her healer. Thank you! God, I know You love her. I do, too.
Love, your Mom
I don't know if this helps, but what you're feeling is normal. Either that, or we're both crazy! Which could be possible! ;) I know our situations are different, but there are still days when I think of it & feel like I've been punched in the gut. I still can't believe this evil thing called cancer is a part of our lives, & we're coming up on the two-year mark in a few weeks. And it sucks. It isn't ever-present in my mind like it used to be, but it is definitely in the back of my mind always. I don't plan beyond 6 months/scan time, because there's always the chance that we'll find it has metastasized. I don't think I live in extreme fear, there's just the unfortunate reality that things are uncertain in our future. Anyways, all that is to say that I think what you're feeling is completely normal, especially when you're not too far out from diagnosis & in this stage of treatment.
ReplyDeleteHey, "chemo brain"! You are strong, positive, and amazing!! The light isn't just at the end of the tunnel...the light is also in you. We all see it & watch it work magic in the world around you. Keep up the good fight.
ReplyDelete-your loyal fan :)