So, I've been sitting at the computer all night long, not really panicked, but definitely disturbed at the thought of what the months to come will entail.
The port-a-cath was "installed" (surgically) on Monday, and that was tough. Somehow the lumpectomy last month and even finding out that there was lymph node involvement was okay. Scary, but okay. The surgeon was took out the bad stuff that day and a plan began to unfold to get me well again.
To the contrary, on Monday I felt as though I was ennabling the subsequent attacks on my blood and immune system that the chemicals will engender. I keep trying to think of chemotherapy as a GOOD thing, ensuring that the cancer is "vacuumed" out of my body, but it's just no good. Instead, I think of how invasive the entire process will be and it just sucks.
I am trusting my gut and am fortunate to have found an oncologist who is mindful of the special situation my family history brings to bear on my treatment. She is working with me to do an unconventional, technically "incomplete," treatment protocol, and I'm still sitting here having my very own pity-party!!!!
Perhaps it's the not knowing how my body is actually going to react to today's chemotherapy. I don't know. I DO know that the hair loss aspect is also weighing on me. Although I've bought not one, but two, wigs already, and tomorrow I will order some scarves and turbans--I just don't have the confidence to pull off Sinead's bald look.
I went away last week to Sedona, AZ and it was lovely--stunning countryside, very peaceful! I got the sense that I needed to remember how things have been working in miraculous ways since April and that I WILL come out of this okay on the other side of chemo and radiation. A year can go by quickly and I've surely wasted more than one year in my life (think all those years of belonging to JWdom! lol). Yet, I'm still distraught. And in tears. And asking the inevitable, but ultimately pointless, "Why me?"
I can't sleep, but the minutes tick inexorably on until daylight, a shower, and waking Lena so she can drive me to my appointment. As I supported her earlier this year with her brain surgery, she is supporting me with my fight against breast cancer. I am lucky. I am blessed in many ways. So why do I feel so utterly alone depsite the love and prayers and actions of so many?