Inside

“6:58, are you sure where my spark is?” Tori asks, when it's really closer to a quarter-to-two. My tea is still too hot to drink, but I've got the last of the chocolate chip cookies to keep me busy while I wait...waiting, waiting, waiting...

Daryll asked me how I'm doing. It wasn't just the on-the-surface “how are you doing?”. It was much more like the serious, “what's going on inside you?” way of asking. I don't remember how I answered, exactly. It was a long string of verbal thoughts floating, dancing, spinning, and hovering, and then coming to a halt at a simple “I don't know”.

The operation went well, my hospital stay was smooth, and I'm healing without a hiccup. I'm at home now, and I'm doing my part in taking care of myself in the areas where outside help can't reach. There is so much outside information on how I'm doing, but none of it sheds enough light to see how things are on the inside. Right now, I'm living on whispers, hints, and obscurities, where the truth of how I am is concerned. Even the microscopic icicles seeping into my veins, don't really clear the fog.

I won't say there aren't emotions, because there are, but all I'm getting are fragments. There is so much happening...so much, that I can't pin it down. The mental and emotional white noise rising behind the Percoset haze has me aware that preparations must be made, but I have no idea what to prepare for. Of course, there is a very obvious element of horror to the whole situation. My breasts have been removed, along with the nipples. In their place, are a couple of dents in my chest, each one with a diagonal scar reaching from one side to the other. Over this, I am bandaged and bruised, and there are drainage tubes suchered into my armpits. At the end of each tube, is a squeezy little container that must be emptied a couple of times a day. Yes, it's a rather disturbing sight, I suppose. However, I knew this part was coming, and had been over it countless times, so I didn't go to the surgery table naive.

As I do with every major situation, I spent some time comparing it with George's death. Nothing compares to the pain of watching your baby brother die, but I handled his passing a lot better than I ever would have guessed. I've noticed for a while that I have been handling breast cancer with significantly less grace, at least where the mastectomy has been concerned. Sometimes, when having a fear moment, I've reminded myself that losing my breasts is horrible, but George lost a sixth of his brain, and then his life, the following year. It has kept me in-check, most of the time.

Perhaps the emotions are so mixed because this particular cancer story has a lot of events taking place. Every day, my daughter brings me unparalleled joy. Could it be she, who is fortifying my spirit with her indescribable beauty and unconditional love? I am surrounded by support, the likes of which I never would have imagined, and it has been unbelievably touching.

On the darker side of things, I'm having to deal with cancer for the second time, and this round is costing me body parts. Recovering from surgery, so far, has been a lot better than I anticipated, though it is definitely uncomfortable and a little gruesome to look at.

So, no...I really don't know how I feel. I don't know if I'm going to be able to keep my chin up, or if it's all going to slam in on me when I least expect it. Is it really of any importance whether I know, or not? I might be doing okay, or I might be a crumpled mess, tomorrow. Does it matter which, as long as I work actively toward getting past this? This is temporary. I know it will pass, and I will emerge from this chain of events as a stronger, happier, more determined person. In the meantime, I'll take it all as it comes, and do what I have to do in order to stay afloat. I've got a long way to go...one foot in front of the other...

Tea and Transformation

I'm pretty sure that this is the absolute best cup of Rooibos tea I've ever had. I've still got half a cup-full left, and I'm already planning a second. Though I typically drink coffee, I have long adored tea, especially when it allows for creamer and sugar. I use coffee to enhance the enjoyment of a moment, or conversation, whereas tea is more like sipping inspiration and daydreams. Tea almost creates the moment. 

While my two days in the hospital was mainly about recovering from surgery, I feel like being home is where the healing truly begins. So far, it's been both relaxing and challenging. It's nice to be able to take naps as I need them, so I can't complain, there. Allowing others to do my daily tasks for me, gets sort of frustrating, however. We never realize how much we do until we can no longer do it. Of course, in my case, this is temporary. I just need to keep that in mind. 

I'm tired, sore, and I have drainage tubes  stitched into my armpits, but amazingly, I feel worlds better than I guessed I would. Honestly, it's not so bad, and yes, I've seen myself with the bandages off. It's a little disturbing, but I try to see my empty chest as an empty canvas. It will be filled in, eventually. Another one of my dear, old friends came over and prepared dinner. It was delicious, and his company warmed the apartment. 

So, I guess this is my life, for the next little while. Another stage in the chrysalis. I must take care in sculpting my reality, through this. The thought of opening my creative self to this new world, excites me, but I don't want to get too lost. There  is much to do, and I need to keep it together for Violet. 

Well, it's beginning t feel like sleep and medication are taking over, and it's time for bed. I shall have to lose myself in the steam of my tea, a little bit later.

Captains Log, Supplemental:

Yes, I know...I'm a gigantic nerd!!! I'm also not in the hospital. I was just feet away from the car, and Daryll was putting my bags in the trunk, when my surgeon's office called to cancel. In a word: GAH!!! I was SO revved up to go in and face this!!! I had decided to face my fear, I had packed my bags, and I had tearfully kissed my baby girl goodbye. Then, my charge forward was abruptly halted. A friend of mine used the term "emotional whiplash". Yep. That's exactly what it felt like. After coming back upstairs, and announcing that surgery was off, I sat with Daryll, not knowing what to say or how to feel. Shortly thereafter, the adrenaline I had built up wore off, and we crashed until about 1:00 in the afternoon. I'm glad my mom is here to help with Violet. We needed the sleep!

Of course I'm not mad at my surgeon. She apparently has the flu, and she did what she had to do for her health and mine. Fortunately (or unfortunately, as the case may be), they called back and rescheduled for this Saturday. I'm still not thrilled about losing my breasts, but it has to be done, and the journey can't continue without this step. I'm not sure if I'll have a build-up of the same emotions. I feel strangely at peace. Maybe it's because I have a few more days. Maybe I found a way to be ready for this. I won't know for certain, until it happens. Either way, I still plan to join a support group, and I still plan to move forward, while learning all that I can from my time in limbo.

Chaos, Fear, and Tai Chi

I should be sleeping, but I'm still getting things together for the hospital. Check-in is at 7am. Right now, I'm somewhere between chaos and peace. The time has come to really face this.

Severing the Dread

So much for taking a nap.

It's been about a week and a half since I had my very last chemotherapy treatment. Just as I was coming out of feeling like crap, I was blessed with a stomach bug. Blech. Finally, I'm beginning to feel human, again. I know there is still a long way to go, and more frightening things are in store for me before this is all over, but being done with chemo was beginning to feel pretty good.

I had just settled down for a power-snooze, not too long ago, when my surgeon's office called. I now have a pre-op appointment scheduled, and a tentative date for surgery. This is really happening. They are going to take my breasts. I know that's not the end of it, and I know that I'll be getting new ones after radiation, but still...it's sitting like an ominous silence in my gut. I don't want to do this. I don't want to go without breasts. I know the ones I have are small, and believe me, I've heard all the jokes. I could try to play it off like there's not much there to lose, but there is. They're MY breasts and they're a part of me...even though they tried to kill me.

I guess it's like ending a bad relationship. Just because it's for the best, doesn't mean it won't be traumatic and painful to sever. Sever...that is suddenly such a frightening word. I know I'll get past this, and I know that I'll be able to choose the boobs I want as my reward for making it through all this shit, but right now, I just want to run and hide from it.

I spent a few minutes sitting in the patio garden, after I hung up the phone. The pre-fall breeze felt good, even as the tingling of dread began to rise in my thighs, and my head began to swim. There is no running and there is no hiding. This is going to happen.

How do I sever the dread?

Blessed by Friends

Wow. What a day. It started by getting up much later than I'd intended...but that happens a lot, these days. I hadn't even had my coffee yet, when a man in a yellow hat pounded on our door, and handed Daryll a slip of paper informing us that he was here to shut off our power. Nice. For those who wonder, during the summer, there is no law to protect you from such a thing. He tried to talk the guy out of it, but to no avail. He had a couple other places to shut off first, so that bought me enough time to call the power company. Now, I'm not keen on delivering sob stories and I HATE using my situation to reason with people, especially when I rightfully owe them money. However, things being what they are, I had no choice but to explain my situation as the mother of a ten-month-old baby who lost half our income when I came down with cancer. As if that wasn't bad enough, I broke down crying as I did so. Ugh. I felt utterly pathetic! And of course, all it got me was two extra hours before they shut us off, anyway. I wanted to be angry with the woman on the phone, but deep down, I know she couldn't do anything, anyway. I wanted to yell, but all I could do was sob so uncontrollably, that she had trouble understanding me. Call this an all-time low for yours truly. There was nothing I could do. Frantically, I began to devise ways in my mind to just snatch up my little family and run away somewhere...anywhere. Logical, right? Yeah, no.

Not knowing what to do, I decided that I should take a shower while we still had light in the bathroom. It was during this time that Daryll let a few people know what was going on...not to ask for money, but to blow off some pent-up anger. Well, what we didn't ask for came to us, anyway. Some friends we've come to adore, who we haven't even met in person yet, came to our rescue. I can't even begin to describe how humbled, how grateful, and how incredibly blessed I feel to know these people. They're not wealthy, they didn't want anything in return, and they did it with such grace, love, and understanding, that I didn't even experience the typical shame and embarrassment I feel when someone has to bail my sorry ass out of a bad situation. These people, who live literally on the other side of the continent, cared enough to make sure our power stayed on.

When things like this happen, it's hard not to feel like a colossal failure. It's hard not to beat myself up for screwing up my life. A lifetime battling low self-esteem will do that to you. It's taken a lot of years and a lot of work to learn how to love myself, and I still fall short more often than I should. I was reminded today, by these wonderful friends, that too often, bad things happen to good people. I've been doing all I can, and so has my wonderful husband. I realized how ridiculous my demands on myself can be at times. Everything I do is with the intention to better myself and life for my family. Everything I do is to provide a future for my daughter. Rather than settle for a miserable job that doesn't pay the bills, I went back to school. I began to fight for a future, instead of settling in the present. Sometimes I get angry with myself for not being farther along in life than I am, but then I remember that beating myself up with the mistakes of the past is fruitless and destructive. It took me longer than some others to choose a path, but I did choose it, and I chose it with conviction. Cancer had other plans, but then...I have plans for cancer, and it won't like them. Does knowing these things solve all my problems? No. However, I will keep doing my best. I will keep looking for ways out of this financial catastrophe that my illness has created, while trying my hardest to keep my chin up. Breakdowns will happen, and I have to allow for that. Hopefully, I will find a way to bring in some income. I've got my online jewelry store, and I'm working out plans to cut costs on as many things as I possibly can. Hopefully, it will help. The good thing is that in a few months, I'll be able to get a part-time job, and work my way back into school. Things are hard, but I'm tough, I'm stubborn, and I'm surrounded by people who love me. That alone makes me one lucky mama.

“I will not feed your hunger.

Instead, I bite the pain.

Looking not back, but forward,

I bite down”

~Chuck Schuldiner

Breathe

The thing about insomnia, is that you are not awake because you're not tired. You can be absolutely exhausted, but your mind is so determined to keep you up, that no matter what you do, sleep refuses to come. At least tonight/this morning, I actually have enough energy to be out of bed so that I can do something to occupy myself, instead of just tossing and turning. So here it is, just after 5am. Dead Can Dance is playing, and I'm supposed to be up and getting ready to go somewhere in just a couple of hours. Yep. Today is going to be a real treat! **insert sarcastic eye-roll**

I have been an insomniac for virtually my entire life. What can I say, I have a busy mind...and currently, there is a lot for it to get caught up in. Of course, there's the cancer. Right now, there's always the cancer. There's my daughter. There's the time off I'm taking from school to deal with all of this, and the financial fallout it has caused. The land line and cable are shut off, with internet soon to follow...possibly the cell phones, too. I think about my darling husband and the burden of having to take care of a sick wife, the apartment, the dogs, the baby. I do what I can on my good days, but as treatment progresses, there aren't as many of them.

I know it looks bleak, and often times it feels bleak. To be honest, cancer is the least of my worries, right now. I've said several times that if all I had to worry about was that and my daughter, I'd be fine. I know what this is, I know it has a cure, and I know what it's going to take to get there. I know Cancer. We've met before. Last time, all I had to worry about was getting better. This time, I have to worry about how we're going to pay for things while I'm in treatment. That and...it hurts to know that after my mastectomy, I won't be able to hold my baby girl.

So, what's a Cancer Mommy to do? As Ann, my dearly departed Women's Studies teacher and hero often said, “remember to breathe”. It's amazing how frequently and how easily such a simple, yet important thing is forgotten. I must remember to breathe. I must remember to take it as it comes, knowing that some things are out of my control. This has never been an easy practice for me, as I tend to fret about everything all at once. Then I freeze. Then I forget to breathe. There's no time for that, now. I have healing to do and obstacles to overcome...one at a time.

Remember to breathe.

Last week, I was surprised with this bouquet of flowers. They were just sitting outside my door. The card did not indicate a sender. It read, "If there was a flower for everyone who loves you the room would be filled with pink roses". Sometimes, things like these come along just in time to keep me from breaking.