For five months I traveled along the windy chemo road, passing by picturesque side effect villages, stopping to experience the local life, and honestly not sweating the big bad cancer destination much. The majority of my brain space was occupied with just getting through this phase and thanking the goddesses for the good days. I had dark thoughts, to be sure, especially in the beginning, but my sleep wasn't disturbed much and my mind wasn't as endlessly busy as it usually is. Definitely a general fogginess and an odd kind of calm.
Now that the fog has lifted, my brain is on fucking overdrive. Let's start with the case of this blasted 38-year old woman in Toronto who was a writer and mother and blogged for Chatelaine about her HER2+ breast cancer. She lasted all of two years before the cancer attacked her lungs and eventually took her. Back in the summer I had read a little excerpt about her and cried like a baby, then forgot about her and went on my merry chemo way.
Then yesterday, while I'm drinking a mug of green tea in the final minutes before going on a spa adventure with Pete to celebrate the end of chemo, I pick up the Globe and land on the woman's obit and begin crying like a baby again, torturing myself by visiting her canceriscrap.com blog and trying to pinpoint where in her treatment it all went sideways so I'm not caught off guard by the signs with my own experience.
And the spa day? Lovely, but as Pete fought back the snores of the extremely relaxed, my mind raced the entire time, swirling around waiting for radiation and what the cancer was doing in the meantime, waiting for surgery and what the cancer would be doing in the meantime, how long a spread would take to kill me, how I could possibly prepare for that and how having a positive outlook was bullocks when the cancer was taking over your body. Oh man, the mind never stops, even when I'm otherwise busy.
If this is the end of chemo brain, gimme serenity now!
I love the sein and I love festivas for the restofus! good outlook..
ReplyDeleteI think its time for you to start reading the stories of cancer survivors, babe. Yes there are the sad ones but they are not yours, nor will they ever be. Those of us who are watching you from the sidelines know what the outcome of your battle will be. No sad tales for you. The space between battles are the most important. Relax, rest and enjoy the time between treatments - I won't let you get down on yourself!
ReplyDeleteMum's unite because I agree. There are thousands of good stories too but you don't get to read them because they don't have obits, so keep the light shining missy and make sure your festivas pole stands tall. love yer.
ReplyDeleteHi Carissa,
ReplyDeleteI always knew you were witty and smart but I'll add to that...funny, wise and brave. Write on! I send good thoughts your way. Say hi to Pete. Your friend, Leva