I was chatting to a friend the other day and he asked me some hard questions and shared with me some harsh truths. He said my blog is great but wanted to know how I was really feeling. "Not just 'how are you?' but how does having cancer really make you feel Bronwen?" Obviously it has been running through my mind ever since, and I keep coming up with the same answer.
I am pissed off!!
Not the 'why me?' or 'I am so cursed' kinda pissed off. I'm pissed off because of how much it has affected my life, and still does. When I say my life, I mean everything and EVERYONE in it, because they are my life. The people who I love are my life. My husband! My kids! My family! My friends! Me! I am so annoyed with the fact that my children had to see me like that. That the word cancer is part of their vocab and when I say something like my boob is sore, my 10 year old says "I hope you are not getting breast cancer now too mommy." I am so very pissed off with the fact that my husband had to became my doctor. That he can never erase what he saw last year. That it took me from the wife he knew to the patient he still has to worry about. How do you go back to being husband and wife when this shit has made you doctor and patient. (I know that is what marriage is about and I would have done the same... but did it have to make me into a pasty, bald, sweating, fitting whale that my husband had to save every morning?) I am upset for my folks because no parent wants to face the prospect that their child might die before they do. It's not natural. I am pissed off because sugar lows would send me into mind altering, aggressive rages and I swore (nasty, unforgivable things) at people I love! I am so incredibly annoyed by the fact that people think I am brave and a fighter when I don't feel like that at all. Bravery is when something scares the shit out of you but you make the choice to do it anyway. I fight this disease because I have no choice... blindly throwing punches at my opponent, while keeping a positive attitude that one will strike the winning blow. I can't stand it that I feel like such a fake because most days the fear of this disease cripples me emotionally and I don't know how to get a hold of myself. I am angry because instead of grabbing every opportunity and living, I am just alive and so fearful of my given disease that I hide from everything that I could and should be doing. I hate that it makes me feel so pathetic and so very very sad.
Please don't get me wrong, I am so grateful for so many things and trust me when I say I have a wonderful life that I really do not want to give up. But today I am pissed off!
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
Monday, 11 July 2011
HANDLING THE CHANGE
Update: Docs are all on the same page, which is fantastic, but we have to find out from the manufacturers in Canada if having the therasphere beads done again is a viable option and what the side affects will be. So patiently I will wait :-)
****************************
This weekend was brilliant! Friday I had a dinner party with friends I had not seen in months and saturday was spent with friends I had not seen in years. Both evenings were filled with stories of way-back-when and hilarious memories of when we were young and invincible. The most amazing thing about it all was that as much as all of them had aged (just a little) and their lives taken different paths, none of them had really changed at all. This got me thinking about all the change I have been through over the last few years.
You cannot go through the fight of your life without it affecting you. It has to change you. It will make you stronger, perhaps wiser, definitely more spontaneous and without a doubt more aware of yourself as not so invincible after all. But those are all emotional changes. Does facing death change how you look? Ok fair enough, surgery leaves you with scars, for some chemo sheds those unwanted kilo's when you need them the most, and for others, you swell up like a balloon. I had the misfortune of getting the 'you constantly have to eat or you will die' cancer, so I was enormous... but that's a whole other story. Although I have managed to loose alot of the weight I was wondering if I look as different as I feel. I keep looking at old pictures of the young me. But they were only taken 3 years ago! Is this huge change in my psyche reflected on my face? Do I look different to people or do I look the same except for some weight gain and new, rather unruly curls on my head. Do people see the change as much as I see it. As much as I feel it?
The even bigger question is... Have I embraced this change or am I secretly hoping one day I will look like the old me again? Hm!
****************************
This weekend was brilliant! Friday I had a dinner party with friends I had not seen in months and saturday was spent with friends I had not seen in years. Both evenings were filled with stories of way-back-when and hilarious memories of when we were young and invincible. The most amazing thing about it all was that as much as all of them had aged (just a little) and their lives taken different paths, none of them had really changed at all. This got me thinking about all the change I have been through over the last few years.
You cannot go through the fight of your life without it affecting you. It has to change you. It will make you stronger, perhaps wiser, definitely more spontaneous and without a doubt more aware of yourself as not so invincible after all. But those are all emotional changes. Does facing death change how you look? Ok fair enough, surgery leaves you with scars, for some chemo sheds those unwanted kilo's when you need them the most, and for others, you swell up like a balloon. I had the misfortune of getting the 'you constantly have to eat or you will die' cancer, so I was enormous... but that's a whole other story. Although I have managed to loose alot of the weight I was wondering if I look as different as I feel. I keep looking at old pictures of the young me. But they were only taken 3 years ago! Is this huge change in my psyche reflected on my face? Do I look different to people or do I look the same except for some weight gain and new, rather unruly curls on my head. Do people see the change as much as I see it. As much as I feel it?
The even bigger question is... Have I embraced this change or am I secretly hoping one day I will look like the old me again? Hm!
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
Hoping for Combat
I find when ever I have a big day at the doctor coming up, I tend to keep to myself. Minimal people contact and phone calls, then I don't have to talk about it. I have one of those days tomorrow...
On the 11th of December 2010 I had radioactive beads inserted into my liver. Those beads pretty much saved my life. Last year I couldn't drive. My husband had to save my life every morning and sometimes several times a day. I couldn't be left alone in case I went into an insulin coma. I couldn't walk up the stair case at home without going into a complete sweat and needing to sit down and rest. It was definitely a version of living hell, especially for my family (and very brave kids) who had to witness it all. We had spent many months trying different medical options. Surgery, injections, sugar drips, chemo and any other weird and wonderful option that was put in front of us. Finally, after what seemed like forever, and thanks to the constant pushing and research of my surgeon, we were given a viable option. After having been given only a year to live, those tiny microscopic glass beads filled with radiation gave me life again. I can drive. I can do small amounts of exercise. I can be left alone. Everything is so very different to last year and so very wonderful! I love being alive!
Here's where the big day comes in. The tumors on my liver have reduced by nearly 50%, and I have exceeded everyone's expectations but the little shits are starting to wake up again. Tomorrow I go see my Radiation Oncologist to find out if it is possible and viable to do the procedure again. Tomorrow I find out if my liver and body can handle another dose of radiation so soon. Tomorrow I find out if I can nuke the bastards some more and reduce them again. Tomorrow I find out if I can declare war on the unwelcome once more.
My biggest fear is that he says I can't, that I need to wait a while. I don't want to wait, I want to fight!
Roll on Wednesday because no matter the reason, the waiting is ALWAYS excruciating!
On the 11th of December 2010 I had radioactive beads inserted into my liver. Those beads pretty much saved my life. Last year I couldn't drive. My husband had to save my life every morning and sometimes several times a day. I couldn't be left alone in case I went into an insulin coma. I couldn't walk up the stair case at home without going into a complete sweat and needing to sit down and rest. It was definitely a version of living hell, especially for my family (and very brave kids) who had to witness it all. We had spent many months trying different medical options. Surgery, injections, sugar drips, chemo and any other weird and wonderful option that was put in front of us. Finally, after what seemed like forever, and thanks to the constant pushing and research of my surgeon, we were given a viable option. After having been given only a year to live, those tiny microscopic glass beads filled with radiation gave me life again. I can drive. I can do small amounts of exercise. I can be left alone. Everything is so very different to last year and so very wonderful! I love being alive!
Here's where the big day comes in. The tumors on my liver have reduced by nearly 50%, and I have exceeded everyone's expectations but the little shits are starting to wake up again. Tomorrow I go see my Radiation Oncologist to find out if it is possible and viable to do the procedure again. Tomorrow I find out if my liver and body can handle another dose of radiation so soon. Tomorrow I find out if I can nuke the bastards some more and reduce them again. Tomorrow I find out if I can declare war on the unwelcome once more.
My biggest fear is that he says I can't, that I need to wait a while. I don't want to wait, I want to fight!
Roll on Wednesday because no matter the reason, the waiting is ALWAYS excruciating!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)