Our wedding anniversary is in 15 days. No one is banking on us being able to do much, as I will be one day closer to my last round of chemo infusions, and I have gotten more sick with each one. Kayla's mom is here again, just like last year, to help. This time she's not making pies, helping sew finishing touches on our wedding clothes and preparing for family and friends to be here for our magical weekend. She's cleaning our house and maintaining our yard. She is touching things we haven't been able to reach for lack of time, money, energy. It's nice to have her here. It's comforting to feel like someone is taking care of Kayla. It hasn't been easy. For me, that's a given. As for Kayla, I've seen her coping right before my eyes. Like an extension of my brain and like clockwork she makes the world still go round. She works constantly. Sometimes I think I am disappearing. She often reminds me that I'm not. For me it takes a lot of reminding. This cancer is like quicksand. It's difficult to muddle through. I reckon I will find a way to keep afloat, and that I will reach a place of normalcy in my life. Maybe even joy. I hope so...
Because, I am suddenly consumed with worry about my prognosis. I have managed to get this far into this cancer journey without asking too many questions about my chances of survival or recurrence. When I asked my oncologist at our last appointment, "So, how do we know that all this worked?" He kind of chuckled and shook his head. "We will know in time. There aren't any blood tests that are going to show us. We just have to wait and see." Without getting into too much detail about the cancer itself, I will just say here that there are two characteristics of it that exist simultaneously and are also slightly opposing and that make my cancer slightly rare and more aggressive. I think it's something like 35% of breast cancers have both of these characteristics. This means that there are two different ways of looking at my survival rate, but those two percentages have to be considered in lieu of the other. I find it confusing so I realize that as a reader this might not make a lick of sense of it at all. Due to this sudden lack of certainty I feel a little trapped in this state of mind that is a whirlwind of what ifs, and why even bothers. I will find a way to tie all of this confusion into a neat little bow eventually. It's just that right now I'm in pain. I'm sick. Im sore. Im stiff. Im lonely. I hardly recognize my own face. Im scared. And there is a little taste of bitterness in my mouth.
Sometimes the effortlessness of existence that people crank out around us astonishes me. It's just that when Kayla and I managed to pull out our wedding from scratch last year, it symbolized the building of a foundation from what we were determined to build upon. We were hunting for an ease, a bite of that effortlessness. We spent so many of our efforts rapidly weaving our safety nets and our home into a happy nest. We built. But then the diagnosis. I just look around at the ease and effortlessness that I imagine in the lives around me and wonder if I will ever feel a part of that momentum. Like I'm not expecting to be denied or to lose or to die, even. These are the things I'm supposed to be learning not to fear. Loss, denial, death. These are just some of the things.
I tell my son this and I remind myself--things look easy for others because you don't see what it took to get them where they are or what they are doing to put forth that appearance of ease. The universe knows I do my best to put my best self out there. I do that to keep certain folks from giving me annoying pep talks and I do that so that I don't have to comfort people who are worried.
ReplyDeleteI haven't asked about my survival chances either lately. They were very good a while ago, but things have changed. I want to ask tomorrow when I see my oncologist again.
It's terrifying. I don't know what to say. Even though i'm going through a similar thing, I don't know what to say to others. We've all got our own path. But you seem loved and you seem strong--even when you don't feel that way.
Thinking of you and wishing you many good things.
Totally, mapelda. I believe you're right en pointe about there being a backstory of effort to put forth that appearance. I think I needed to express that I recognize a bitterness, a slight jealousy even, in myself when I feel like everyone around me is getting what they want, living the dream and I'm sitting here in my own sweat, feeling like shit and suffering. I need to acknowledge that bitterness so it doesn't consume me. And so that you can reply and others may reply or that no one will reply at all, but At least i have done the duty of confession. Shed the bitterness and move on to gratitude. It's a constant excercise, no doubt that you can relate to.
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