I want off!!!!
Physically, I'm still feeling great - tons of energy, boobs haven't fallen, no bald spots, haven't developed a dowager hump....but the hormone swings are INSANE! Since the surgery, they've mostly gone away, with just the odd mild flushing now and again. But this week....holy crap! Imagine your worst pms EVER: bloaty, cranky, eating everything in sight....now add near constant severe hot flashes. Twenty four seven. Plus my job requires that I be polite and professional. My tongue biting skills have been put to the test this week! LOL! Then today - poof, nearly normal again. The human body will ALWAYS mystify me!
On a different note, as you all know, the whole sterile/infertile thing has been a pretty rough blow. The full acceptance is coming, slowly but surely, and I've reached a point where I don't start crying after I see every baby or toddler. Sometimes, though, it just hits me out of the blue. Like yesterday on the bus was a little boy (maybe 18mo?), who I suspect has some kind of cancer, given the lack of hair and eyebrows. The whole ride, I was able to just enjoy watching him wiggle around his mom's lap. Then a girl (who's mixed like me) got on with a little girl (maybe 2 1/2?) and I gave her my seat (the super late bus was uber crowded). I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, and almost started crying. But I will say that the emotional hit wasn't nearly has intense as it was just a few weeks ago. I know time heals all wounds, and I'm thankful that this one isn't the festering open gash it was after my diagnosis.
I guess with this new knowledge of where my headspace is at, I should let you all know that I've decided to adopt a foster child. For those of you that visited me in the hospital, I might have mentioned it in my lovely narcotic haze, but I'm sure none of you took it seriously. But I guess subconsciously I knew it was my plan, but hadn't really let myself in on it yet. This week I got in touch with DSHS and now have a mentor/contact to help me through the process. Now don't go all getting your panties in a bunch, I'm not planning to get a child imminently, I'm just planning ahead, finding out what I need to do, and hopefully around the end of the year/beginning of next year I'll be in a place to bring a new little one home, and realize my dream of being a mommy.
So, other than that, it was just another week of work....
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Giving the Grim Reaper a pimp slap
You know how they say time heals all wounds? I haven't figured out yet whether this is true, and those wounds heal to become various scars, or if the fear, terror, relief and all the other emotions that have come with cancer are simply going to be a part of my life.
I had a close friend who's wife passed away about a year and a half ago. One of the things I told him was that it's not a question of getting your old life back, but that it's finding a new normal. Well, I'm having a bitch of a time finding my new normal. Now, don't get me wrong, right now things in my life are going really well. Physically I feel 10 years younger. I wake up in the mornings, and not grumpy. Not even a little. I haven't had coffee since the surgery, I'm doing stairs at work, no more crazy intense cravings. I'm genuinely feeling, dare I say it, happy!
The doctor officially says I'm in remission and based on the pathology report from the surgery, he's not recommending radiation followup therapy. My consult with the geneticist let me know that I'm not at increased risk of colon cancer (the other cancer closely associated w/ uterine cancer), and I have only a slightly higher risk of breast cancer than the general population. My incisions are healed, and even the hot flashes are decreasing in frequency and intensity. The doc even said I was clear to resume all "activities" (bow chicka wow wow!) I'm even starting to feel relaxed enough to start making plans for the future.
So why do I feel like the other shoe is gonna drop?
There's a big part of me right now grasping on to any happiness - a cute purse on shopgoodwill.com ( it's like crack for shopaholics!), the warmth of the spring sun, head butts and snuggles from Tony the Terrible Tom. Simple time spent talking with my mom is suddenly the most precious thing in the world. I tell myself, enjoy it now, because if the cancer comes back, you're shit outta luck. I have to admit it. I'm scared to death that the cancer will come back. For the next 2 years, I get quarterly pap smears (and if you don't like the annual ones, try every three months!) . Then I get to jump up to every 6 months for 3 years. I've got 5 years before I can relax and feel a little more like everyone else.
I think part of why I'm feeling so on edge tonight is that I had a conversation tonight with someone who is battling cervical cancer. As we talked, she said that she chose radiation because she still wanted to have kids. It felt like a kick in the stomach. Every day I'm reminded that I'm not a normal woman. 34 year olds are not supposed to be concerned about bone density and hot flashes. Honestly, I don't even really have wrinkles yet (although I'm secretly convinced my boobs are shrinking.) Even though she and I are having different treatments (she's doing chemo & radiation), she still has hope of a pregnancy. No matter how much sexy time I make, turkey baster donations from friends, or even if I hold up a sperm bank, there's no physically possible way for me to conceive.
So here I am, physically and mostly mentally feeling the top of my game. Financially I'm doing well, and I'm surrounded by friends and family who love me. But the one thing I'll never forgive cancer for is for taking away my belief in hope (oh yeah, and for turning my world upside down.)
So to death, whom I've soundly given a bitch-wheres-my-money pimp slap to, you can't have me for a few more years. And to cancer - I'm warming up my other pimp hand for February 28th, 2016.
Ok, so maybe I'm just over tired and should really just go to bed...
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Ahhh...the warm afterglow of recovery...
It's hard to believe that a month ago I was dying, and today I'm back to work, and physically almost completely recovered (except for this last, and biggest, pesky little incision that sits right where ALL of my pants sit and rub it.)
In reality though, even while my deep desire to get my life back is coming true, the emotional wounds aren't healing quite as quickly and easily as the surgery incisions are. I wouldn't say it's depression, because honestly, I haven't felt this good in a long time. In some ways, it's a bit like riding a roller coaster, one moment I'm flying high feeling wonderfully content with where things are, and then in an instant I'm completely overwhelmed by the littlest thing. Last week, at a family breakfast, everything was going great. Then a couple was seated next to us who had a little one (maybe 5-6mo old?). It took everything in me to avoid watching them. When the baby started to get fussy and cry, my sister (who was sitting across from me) and I couldn't help but look over. We made eye contact with each other, and while her face read "Omg, HOW CUTE!", I crumpled and started crying. In the middle of a busy restaurant, with everyone there. My sis came over and wrapped me in a warm hug until I was able to pull it together, but I realized that the emotional trauma of this was finally catching up to me. (On a side note, it's amazing how we unconsciously and naturally repress emotions until we're ready to cope with them.)
Afterwards, I was completely confused and had no idea why just seeing a random baby would turn me in to a puddle of despair. There's no rational reason why just thinking about babies is making my otherwise mostly sunny world and turning it into a hot flash ridden shadowland. Mom and I talked about it, and she simply said, "Honey, you're grieving." By her saying that, the puzzle pieces clicked into place and I realized that what I thought was completely nutty, is actually totally normal. Who wouldn't grieve having to give up something and primal and fundamental as the ability to reproduce? Yeah, yeah, yeah, adoption, surrogates, blah blah blah. And yes, I'm most definitely going to do it in the next year or two, but there's a big difference between choosing to adopt and having to. Even though the physical scars are healing, I know that I still have a LONG road ahead of me before I'm recovered.
Since that talk with mom, I've tried my best to acknowledge these feelings when they come up. I think the thing that scares me the most is that I completely see how a woman could do something crazy, like kidnap a baby. Now don't go getting all freaked out and clutch your children, you all KNOW I haven't totally cracked, but I can see now, more than ever before, how the despair and grief could make someone snap. I haven't been around any of my friends kids yet, and I haven't held a baby at all since the diagnosis. I'm pretty sure the first time will be hard, and I'll probably start crying, but you know, deep down inside, I feel strong. I've had to give myself permission to feel all the things that are going to come up (even if they don't make sense) Honestly, it's the only way I can see to ever grow past it.
In reality though, even while my deep desire to get my life back is coming true, the emotional wounds aren't healing quite as quickly and easily as the surgery incisions are. I wouldn't say it's depression, because honestly, I haven't felt this good in a long time. In some ways, it's a bit like riding a roller coaster, one moment I'm flying high feeling wonderfully content with where things are, and then in an instant I'm completely overwhelmed by the littlest thing. Last week, at a family breakfast, everything was going great. Then a couple was seated next to us who had a little one (maybe 5-6mo old?). It took everything in me to avoid watching them. When the baby started to get fussy and cry, my sister (who was sitting across from me) and I couldn't help but look over. We made eye contact with each other, and while her face read "Omg, HOW CUTE!", I crumpled and started crying. In the middle of a busy restaurant, with everyone there. My sis came over and wrapped me in a warm hug until I was able to pull it together, but I realized that the emotional trauma of this was finally catching up to me. (On a side note, it's amazing how we unconsciously and naturally repress emotions until we're ready to cope with them.)
Afterwards, I was completely confused and had no idea why just seeing a random baby would turn me in to a puddle of despair. There's no rational reason why just thinking about babies is making my otherwise mostly sunny world and turning it into a hot flash ridden shadowland. Mom and I talked about it, and she simply said, "Honey, you're grieving." By her saying that, the puzzle pieces clicked into place and I realized that what I thought was completely nutty, is actually totally normal. Who wouldn't grieve having to give up something and primal and fundamental as the ability to reproduce? Yeah, yeah, yeah, adoption, surrogates, blah blah blah. And yes, I'm most definitely going to do it in the next year or two, but there's a big difference between choosing to adopt and having to. Even though the physical scars are healing, I know that I still have a LONG road ahead of me before I'm recovered.
Since that talk with mom, I've tried my best to acknowledge these feelings when they come up. I think the thing that scares me the most is that I completely see how a woman could do something crazy, like kidnap a baby. Now don't go getting all freaked out and clutch your children, you all KNOW I haven't totally cracked, but I can see now, more than ever before, how the despair and grief could make someone snap. I haven't been around any of my friends kids yet, and I haven't held a baby at all since the diagnosis. I'm pretty sure the first time will be hard, and I'll probably start crying, but you know, deep down inside, I feel strong. I've had to give myself permission to feel all the things that are going to come up (even if they don't make sense) Honestly, it's the only way I can see to ever grow past it.
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