Monday, May 07, 2007

Thank God it's Doomsday

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.

-MM

10 comments:

Peter said...

Lori / Wonderwoman

Good to read your blog. Sorry I have not been as regular, need to make time for it.

Keep your head up and enjoy what you are doing.

Peter

Carver said...

Hi Lori,

I am glad you will get another scan. Always good to have as much information as you can before you make a decision.

Your honesty is, as always, a breath of fresh hair. I think it's a measure of your strength and mental health to acknowledge how you feel. To me that makes you wonder woman.

So many time "we", we as in homo sapiens, push away our honest reactions and try to feel the way we think we should feel. I don't think that's ever good because then we are not only fighting the cancer but also fighting ourselves. I am glad you are able to honestly experience what you are feeling.

I am wishing you all the best, Carver

Kim said...

Those biggo 'ugly cries' are miraculous, aren't they?
Marianne Williamson always defines a miracle as a shift in perception.
I just kinda like that one.

Love to you, my Sweet Girl.

PS It took a baseball bat to finally get at Mel, the pinata. But we got him. Tough old bird, but not too tough for determined folks loaded up on margaritas!

Anonymous said...

Miss M...
Try not to make any decisions about your summer plans just yet.
Once you decide what you are going to do regarding treatment, then you can revise, postpone, cancel your summer plans. Right now you need them to hold on to. They are what helps you feel normal. And, you may decide feeling normal before you have treatment is the perfect thing to do.
I read an article once that said the American culture makes us swallow our tears. The result - few if any of us ever just cry about what we think we are crying about because we've never really allowed ourselves to cry all we need to for any given reason. So, each time we cry, especially when we cry a good one, there's a little bit of past hurts that get mixed up with the present. Keep crying...get it all out. You can't drown in your tears - you'll float in them even when they feel like you are in a tempest. Tears are healing and you are a healer, sister.
Love, Faith

Snobby Bobby said...

Ok, Faith, you too good for words person you. Your words of wisdom are so deep it makes me feel inadequate when I offer things like "it'll be okay", crap like that.

Basically Lori my love, ditto to what Faith said. :-)

Thanks to Peter, Carver, Kim, Faith, Candi and the whole gang who comment here.

faye said...

Well, I've got nothin' to touch that, either. God bless Gilda's club! To echo Bobby's thoughts..."it'll be okay." Unfortunately, that's all I've got (and a bottle of wine)...and time and love!!!

Feel better? I thought so.

Love ya and always thinking of you!! Sending you peace...

Love, Candi

Shannon said...

Lori, I know exactly how you feel! Actively fighting this disease is in some strange and warped way, so much more of a relief than that anxiety ridden ramped up way we feel as we sit, just contemplating all the possibilities, those hateful "what ifs"; waiting for the other shoe to drop...Always hard.
And a good cry...Now that is truly and wholly cleansing; at least for an immediate time frame anyway. And those lock yourself in your room type hissy fits, I hadn't had one of those since high school either...but I have them more often than I would like to admit now ;)
AS for fun, trips and summer vacactions...These are the hopes and dreams that get us by--keep our spirits up. Necessary. Whenever possible, squeeze fun into every second, every minute, every hour...even day, into any moment that opens up. Instead of looking into the future that could possibly be filled with prospects of treatments and God only knows what else, for that opportunity...just as soon as you get the chance, run with it...Fill your live with the moments that are simply unforgettable.

Keep your chin up, and stay strong and feisty!

Wishing you only the best of luck~
Shannon

Anonymous said...

We love you.
Katherine, Paul and Tommy

faye said...

Good luck today, Lori. Thinking of you. Sending you peaceful thoughts...

Anonymous said...

Hi Lori,

Hang in there! I got melanoma on my back from a tanning bed, and you are right on about how dangerous they are. I treated it naturally (hard for most to believe) and have been cancer free for over 2 years. This is my story :) Keep a positive attitude,you have a great site that is inspiring many!

http://curezone.com/blogs/f.asp?f=878

i2y

I'm Too Young For This!