A week ago I had the good news that Dr. D. was ending my treatments. An unexpected euphoria which lasted about 30 seconds...until he said he really felt that we should schedule a colonoscopy. So we did. And it is tomorrow. So, I'm done...but not done. Maybe after tomorrow I'll be done. I have to believe that they have scoped, scanned, x-rayed and tested every single part of me that they can now, with the possible exception of my bones. I feel like they need to either find what they're looking for or stop looking. I need and want to be done. I look around me at all of the people walking around living "normal" lives and can barely recall that I was once one of them. We all, of course, are aware that our earthly lives will one day end, but we don't all find ourselves slapped up side the head with our mortality on a daily basis. All of this testing and treating and consulting can take its toll mentally. Yet, I am actually surprised to find myself feeling this way about it today, because typically I feel that I handle it all pretty well. I'm used to this lifestyle now and it just is what it is. But not today.
Then again, I remember the little 3 year old I mentioned the other day and I remember those I know and/or know of who are going through much worse than I right now and I know that I have no cause to whine. So I'm not. It may sound like it, but I'm not. I am just tired. SOOO tired of this cancer card. But I'm not just tired of it for myself...I'm tired of it for all the rest of these people as well. My friends, your friends...I would like nothing better than for ALL of us to have our innocence back...our lives back. I want to get up tomorrow morning and go to work...not to Mercy. I really don't want to do this. But, it is comforting to just take a deep breath and realize that by this time tomorrow, it will hopefully be behind me. It is comforting to focus on this picture of the beach house we will be relaxing in, in just over a month.
Later.
You'll be in our thoughts tomorrow and we all hope and pray that the results will be good. I understand your feelings more than you know. I'd love to go back and be able to erase the event in my life that triggered 33 years of "screwed up hormones" and panic attacks. I had to give up my dreams of teaching. That was the hardest thing for me to do.
ReplyDeleteMy body turned on me and there was nothing I could do to turn it back around. The medication that started to bring my symptoms under control had the side effect of breast lumps and an increased chance of breast cancer down the road. They told me I could keep taking them and "risk it" or stop and learn to live where I was. I chose the latter. I just had to buckle in for the ride.
I'm not sure who deserves the prize for surviving 30 years of peri-menopause ( and all the "fun" that holds) - me or Rick - but I'd sure like to get back to the me I used to be. Then I realize there was some reason God entrusted me with the knowledge that has come from those 30 years. I don't know why, but I'm sure there is a reason. They tell me it may end soon and I really don't know what I'll do when my "normal" goes away. I don't remember how to be "that other normal" anymore. I do know though, that He will show me what's next - and He'll show you too.
Know what - you're entitled to a few days when you just want to stop. You've had a long, hard hill to climb and you've climbed it with a grace and strength that is amazing. Now - keep climbing. You have a light to plant on top of this hill you're climbing and you have no idea just how many people will use that light to guide themselves through dark times through the upcoming days and year.
Enough preaching - now - get to bed and hang in there tomorrow. Let the prayers of all your family and friends hold you up for a little while. - Rick & Jean