|Last ER visit........I was neutropenic|
Sometimes I feel like, if I just went somewhere else, this would be easier. I would be on "vacation" so things would have an easy-breezy type of feeling..........I wouldn't be dipping into the negative, I would have a drink (or 7) with a little umbrella in it and my fears would melt away. I would still have my diagnosis, but the fear would be gone---worth the plane ticket if you ask me. There have been a few days where I felt minutes away from booking a one-way ticket to anywhere but where I am. Far from realistic, you can't run from your problems.........and denial and I don't really work so well together. I can handle this, I have been handling it, but the closer I get to the end of my chemo cycle the more the fear is sneaking in..............the thought of bone scans and PET scans and waiting for the other-shoe-to-drop may drive me crazy.
Worry is the monkey on my back. We have known each other my entire life (heavy bastard), I was a worrier before cancer, I remain a worrier now, and I can only imagine the future. I know I don't have control over a vast majority of my life--hell, I worry about that too! If cancer doesn't kill me, the worrying about cancer might. This is what I will work through while I run my fat ass off on the treadmill after I regain enough feeling in my feet so I don't fall off this treadmill at the gym and make an even bigger ass of myself.
|Jessica, Me, Hiley at the Seattle Marathon this past weekend|
With the end of my chemo coming up a few thoughts have been running through my head:
1. I will never be embarrassed, scared, or shy of telling people my age. I don't care how old, 30, 40, 90.....each birthday I chalk up is a big old "fuck you" to cancer.........and I never understood that "lie about your age" business anyway............if you have wrinkles or your boobs are a bit saggy I am not going to guess 29 anyway.....
2. I have a ticking time bomb now tied to my veins.......statistics are scary, I am a survivor.........but more than likely will have to battle this again, it's realistic, it's terrifying, it's probably the truth. I will continue to worry for my friends and family.........anyone who was born with a vagina...........statistics are scary and unfortunately if you are born with one, you are probably born with boobs and BAM those statistics skyrocket. My body has turned on me, and no matter how much I try to stay ahead of it..........it has a mind of its own. But I could also get hit by a bus tomorrow........so I will do my best to keep that in the back of my mind and work on the guided imagery................of me hitting cancer with a baseball bat.
3. Scott is not only pretty fantastic, but he has held me up when I couldn't find the strength to......both literally and figuratively. I new I was lucky because he is one of the nicest people I have ever met......one of those "give you the shirt off his back" type of people--they are a rare find, I found one...... But at 26 you don't find many guys going through what this has put him through.......I bet he is the ONLY 26 year old that has ever said "you can wear my pajama pants to the movies, they look fine" (and meant every fucking word) to his wife--I didn't wear them but I know if I chose to he would have held my hand and not gave it a second thought. This may seem small, but I think it is a great example of how he looks past what this has done to me physically and remains solid in our relationship........something a lot of guys in their 20's just don't understand. We are stronger together, I am better for having him, I am not sure I could do this without him.......
4. People are amazing when you give them the chance. People jump on the bandwagon, not sure where it will take them, but they are willing to ride it out because they care.........it is truly unbelievable.
I just hope the bandwagon runs over the fear.....or at least gives me a real good head start.