Well you’ve certainly gotten to see a not-so-nice side of me over the past few days. I don’t know what to say. I started this project as an honest look at myself and well this is an honest look at me warts and all. I’m not proud of my recent behavior but it is what it is.
The prevailing wisdom has been just to let go of the finish line and just plod along one day at a time. For me that’s like letting go of the life preserver that’s been keeping me afloat since the ship wrecked. I can’t swim (metaphorically and actually) and letting go of the one thing that’s kept me afloat terrifies me. I can’t swim so it’s tread water or sink. In my experience it takes a lot of energy to tread water. This plodding along just biding my time ’til they release me depresses me.
The first time I had to have an MRI I was terrified. I had built the machine up in to something resembling a hyperbaric chamber and a submarine. When I finally walked into the room and saw the machine I was like, “Oh I can do this. I got this” and I did. After the 2nd sim appointment when the radiation therapist handed me my schedule I put it in my head that I could do it, 30 treatments with an end date of June 21. Unfortunately the machine broke on my second day of treatments, which pushed me back to June 22. I sulked, I bitched, I readjusted and I soldiered on with my entire family by my side. Then came Friday when I was informed that there were actually 32 treatments and that I would indeed need to complete 7 full weeks of radiation therapy. Hearing that news was like a punch to the gut. I sulked, I got teary-eyed, I ranted and raved and I felt sorry for myself. Along came Sunday and I did my best to realign and readjust and comforted myself with the idea that I’d still be ending on the same week. Then came Tuesday, which brought yet another machine breakdown and another delay. Tuesday’s breakdown means I’ll start an 8th week of treatments.
I know there are many far sicker than myself and those go through a year’s worth of chemo only to have to turn around and do it all again. I realize that my carryings on make me seem immature, bratty, bitchy and very much like a sore loser, but as someone commented here earlier, no one can or should be expected to go through life’s troubles with a smile on their face. I showed up for my treatment today and I suppose I’ll do the same tomorrow, but I cannot greet each day with my former enthusiasm and spirit, that’s gone. I’ll plod along because I love Chuck and he wants me to because he’s afraid I’ll die a horrible death if I don’t see these treatments through but I can’t in good conscience tell you it’s because I dug deep and decided to tough it out, nothing could be further from the truth.
Thank you for stopping by every day. Your encouraging kind words mean the world to me. I wish I could be a better cancer patient and a better sport so you’d have something better to read each day. I love you all.
~ Carol Anne