Yesterday I bit the head off of one of my friends. No....I'm not even talking about that kinda cool, preying mantis kind of way......More like that amazing-frog-swallows-a-fly kind of way. I was so annoyed and it happened so quickly I almost missed his, gentle, insistent apology that immediately followed. His transgression? He asked if radiation therapy was better than chemotherapy. Innocent question for someone who hasn't ever undergone treatment for cancer. But for me....the cancer patient....it's like asking which is preferred: Waterboarding or electrocution. The right answer- despite the commercials telling you otherwise- is that all cancer treatment sucks. And as I've warned you before, I am weary, weary, weary of it all....
I'm 14 treatments into my 17 treatment radiation therapy regime....That's right...three more to go. I finish up on December 19. And, yep I cannot wait. But wait....there's also something sad about that too. This stuff has taken up a huge presence in my life. And it's all coming to an end. No- I won't miss the indigestion, the bloated stomach or the scratchy throat. Duh! But I will miss the wonderful people who I see on a daily basis....The breast cancer patient who is really committed to getting that jigsaw puzzle put together. The kind elderly man who was learning how to text on his cell phone. And that really old dude who ALWAYS flirts with me. Love that guy.....And let's not forget about the amazing group of professionals who have been there, cared and joked with me; and also kicked me into the right frame of mind when my spirit dared to lag. The rhythm of my life is about to change again. And apparently the timing couldn't be better according to the Mayan calendar.
Many people have asked me what is next. And the one thing that comes to mind is that cancer ain't like a cold. No....A cold makes you feel like shit for 3-5 days. And once it's all over you get back to taste buds, clear nasal passages...back to your life.
With cancer, it's not the same thing. Sure, the front line treatment part is coming to an end. But like a dreaded monkey on my back, I have to look out for a blown thyroid, busted up lungs and an infected heart- all on the horizon in about eight to twelve weeks. And really...despite my blogging and blah, blah, blah-ing about this....it really isn't taking a up a lot of space in my life. Really.
But what is taking up a lot of space is the realization that coming out of this, I am not the same chick I was going into this thing. What I want, more than anything, is to regain a sense of normal. But I'm far from that, now aren't I? And really....when was I EVER normal?
Another friend pointed out to me that I'm angry. He's right; but, not the same raging way that he may think. Sure, I'll bite a head off from time to time. But I did that even before cancer. What I'm mad about is simple: I didn't ask for this detour. And I certainly didn't ask for it as a single lady with two young kids. But obviously this happened. I rallied. I got rewarded a "golden ticket." And now I'm left trying to put shit back together again- with the awareness that it can all fall apart again just as easily. And I'm puzzled and frustrated in the same way I get when putting Ikea furniture together. The nice thing about Ikea furniture is that I can actually HIRE people to do it for me. Unfortunately this isn't an option for my actual life. Stupid torvig.........
So, what to do? Another friend pointed out that I am in a state of "involution" a rolling up or folding in upon itself - (that's the scientific definition, which makes sense because she's a doctor...)My reply to that was: "Oh, there's a fancy word for being a selfish, self absorbed a**hole? Nice!" So, I'm gonna make good use it.
I'm rolling it up, folks. Folding it in. And figuring it out. And to make the transition that much better, I'm going to go platinum and bought a nice white bikini to go with the new do. Hopefully all of this will be well received on the beaches of Maui.....That's right...I think better on the beach. Don't you?
The blog WILL continue- and no the title won't change. When I started it- I used the word "got" in the sense of "have." Like I HAVE cancer.....Now I'm deploying the slang iteration of the word "got" in that, "UH-huh, I kicked yer ass- I GOT you, kinda way." So let's roll with it, shall we?
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