Saturday, October 2, 2010

Hurry up and wait

It's that "in-between" time right now.  I'm not still in pain from surgery (well, not much anyway) and I haven't started chemo yet.  You think that this would all be real to me already, but I'm not sure if it is.  I keep making jokes about it.  The last brownie is mine.  I've got cancer.  It's the cancer card.  I haven't pulled it for real, but I kinda joke about it.  Every time I make a comment, every time I make a joke, I feel like it's me running the thought by my subconscious.  I am asking "Do you believe it now?" and I'm still not sure if I do.  It isn't real.  The scar on my stomach is pretty much healed up, though its still painful to push on.  (I know... so don't push it.)  It's healed, and even that doesn't seem real any more. 

I was watching a movie with John tonight, and after the credits rolled, I just said it out loud again.  "I've got cancer".  Yup.  Still nothing.  It still sounds like some line from a soap opera, and I hate soap operas.  John says he feels the same way, that it is all kinda surreal.  But as he said, "Let's revel in the surreal while we can.  It will be real soon enough."  And it sure will be.  Wednesday.  T minus 3 days and 12 hours. 

I've got half of me that feels nothing, and the other half... I don't know.  Every now and then I think about being hooked up to machines and having crazy chemicals running through my veins, and my stomach does a flip flop, like I'm about to give a public speech or go on stage to perform.  I started this blog to keep people informed about the facts, but I also wanted to put my thoughts down.  Up until now, I've kept it as much factual only.  But there is a catharsis in writing.  I don't know if is interesting to anyone else, or if it is just for my own release.  How does one feel nothing, and scared, and peaceful all at the same time?

2 comments:

  1. You are the bravest person I know. I don't have cancer so I can't imagine. But my husband has just be diagnosed with Bladder cancer. It is so scary. I can relate to how John must feel. Tell him I am thinking of him. You can make it through this. You are an amazing person with more strength than you know. Go Hillary. We need a banner. Love you. Jan Fisher

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  2. "Every now and then I think about being hooked up to machines and having crazy chemicals running through my veins, and my stomach does a flip flop"

    I am not very good at this, and trying to get better about it, but (this may sound total cheese but go with me) visualizing the chemo killing the cancer cells. When I feel terrible afterward, I try to accept the chemo and say thank you for killing my cancer cells. My father-in-law calls them "chemical warriors."

    Oh, the most practical tip: go easy on the hospital food. Better to have something bland whose smell you don't associate with the hospital. I seriously have post traumatic flashbacks thinking about hospital food. I'm sure it's a biological response--there's not really a way for your brain to identify the chemo tangibly since you can't smell or taste it, so your brain goes into survival mode and reminds you over and over not to eat that food, even though it's not the food but the chemo that made you sick. Does that make sense? Even if my theory is totally wrong (which i think it has merit, it makes sense from a survival standpoint why can't stomach a food that has made you sick), just skip the hospital food, unless it's just a piece of fruit or something.

    OK, that was long, thinking about you all the time!

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