Thank God for my job. I say that because lately it's been the only time I don't obsess about whether we'll do radiation or surgery. Not that it matters, really. Why am I so concerned about this? In a way it feels silly. I mean, it's not like I'm sitting around waiting to find out if I have cancer or not. The truth is, I know it's there. And I feel like we'll do whatever it takes right now to get rid of this, and then continue to be vigilant and fight it whenever (did I say whenever, I meant IF ever) it comes back. When I say it like that, it seems like no big deal. And yet it's eating up my thoughts, always there in the back of my mind, nagging me. Like a big, "What IF?" The crazy thing is I've never felt like the what-ifs in life were worth pondering. Why waste that energy? Now, it feels like it's all I do. What if..... That's different for me, as a person who has lived her life fairly fearlessly up until now. I've never been much for limiting any activity due to fear, including things that I probably should've been more afraid of. Maybe I've been in denial this whole time, acting like I'm immortal, acting like nothing can hurt me, diving into the moment despite the little fear that was there. It's worked, though! I've always felt very alive, and now, here I am, realizing just how human and fragile I can be. And it's overwhelming, of course. I try to just be myself and at the same time grasp these new feelings. Sometimes I'm a basketcase. I cry at the drop of a hat. I cry in the bathroom at work. I've had the same headache for 3, 4 weeks now- the type of headache I have to take Vicodin to get relief from. But, it's a process. I'm working through it. I'm a healer, I'm healing. I'm a freakin' machine. A healing machine.
Bobby and I had an argument yesterday- ok, more like a disagreement- about vacationing this summer, and I swear I thought I was losing my mind. We had essentially decided that plans we've been making all year are not going to happen. I felt like we don't even know what we'll be doing in the next 5 years, how many times we'll be fighting cancer, when I'll have to be in the hospital, when we'll have another chance to just go and do. I threw a fit. Do you know how long it's been since I pulled a "I'm locking myself in my room" fit? High school at least, maybe even jr. high. Good God. I really did come near to a break down. And I finally just let myself cry and lose it and feel sorry for myself, and after about an hour of that, I felt better. Like way better. I don't know why I fight being so human like that, but it's ridiculous. If I would just accept my feelings for what they are, it'd be a whole lot easier to move on from there. Just a bit of advice for the rest of you Wonder women out there.
Thank God for Gilda's Club. I come full out on Thursday and say I'm happy my cancer is back- o.k., not happy, but you know, relieved- and almost everyone in the room said they knew how I felt! Where else can you get that? I don't think I could even pay a room of people to be that convincing.
Thank God for all of you. I really don't know what I would've done if I hadn't had so many of you writing me, calling me, posting comments. Emails full of advice. Emails that brought tears to my eyes. Emails from complete strangers that offered their home to me and old me their own stories that are so similar to mine. Beautiful stories of hope. I sincerely can not thank all of you enough. I can't list all 109 of you right now, but just know that you're loved.
More scans have been ordered. I'll let you know what they say. Thank you again for all that y'all do.