Absurdities!

Early this morning I couldn't sleep. Having trouble sleeping has become routine in my life. Fighting sleep is agonizing to me. I prefer to just get up & put my mind to use. This morning I browsed through the CaringBridge Journal of a new friend I met the other day. She has documented much of her journey as a breast cancer patient so she won't forget her feelings. If you have breast cancer, you know that the mind is effected. I did a little research & discovered that breast cancer patients who receive chemo actually have larger spaces of inactivity in their brain. That explains so much!

As I was looking through her CaringBridge sight, I couldn't help but notice her mentioning my absurdities, only they were hers. When you are newly diagnosed, you are hit with an overwhelming overload of life-changing information. You are in shock. You are numb. You are horrified. All at the same time!

As the days pass, & you force yourself to put one foot in front of the other; it is surreal. You feel as though you are looking in on someone else. You look in the mirror & wonder if that reflection is yours. You know the feelings inside of that person, but you are no longer sure if others do. You know that person has the same heart & soul she's always had, but something has changed. Words can't really do it justice.

You have frantically researched your own case even though your doctors & loved ones advised you NOT  to do that. You have been bombarded with so many terms. Problem is... they are foreign to you, & they seem absurd! You are faced with processing all of this information because your life is at stake. However, you are so behind! You've been totally caught off guard, & you have no choice but to get yourself up to speed quickly if you hope to understand this new language & participate in your own health decisions.

For days, I couldn't even converse with friends. All I could do was melt. One absurdity after another kept coming my way, & it hasn't stopped. Words are added to your vocabulary like Her2nu+, invasive ductal carcinoma, hormone receptive, Herceptin, chemo, radiation, tamoxifen, reconstruction, implants, drains, & the list continues... These are big words with big meaning! Strange things begin to happen.

For me, the changes began with my fear. It didn't even take a day for meltdowns to begin. I was facing an unprecedented level of anxiety in my life. Watching my family suffer for me was the most touching & the hardest. Their sense of security was immediately ripped out from under their feet. Next on the list: my hair. The Oncologist said, "Shave it off! Get rid of it." So I did. I bought a wig & some hats. One of my most difficult tasks has been regulating my body temperature. Hair makes a difference!

My most difficult decision was deciding on my own surgery. I chose to do straight up whatever gave me the best odds (regardless if it was seemingly insignificant).  WAITING has never been my gift. I have spent more time WAITING in the last few months than I have in my lifetime. I have always feared results, even more than the procedure. The UNKNOWN disrupts my peace.

My daughter asked me yesterday how I was doing. My response... I just have to continue to do what will straight up be the best for my outcome. Never mind that my fingernails are turning strange colors & inevitably falling off from the chemo. Never mind that the skin on my left side may delay my radiation (that I was recently told  I will now likely need). Originally I was told radiation would be unlikely if I had a mastectomy. Minor detail, I guess.

Never mind that my emotions are up & down like a roller coaster. I am fragile, & it takes very little to spiral into a meltdown. My prognosis (for all I've been through) Is HOPEFUL! I am so disturbed by the fights of others I meet on this journey. I cry for them. I grieve for them. If they have young children & their life hangs more in the balance than mine, I  would trade places with them if I could.