We met with the radiation oncologist yesterday, a truly wonderful doctor who was straightforward, honest, and quite funny. She spent alot of time explaining radiation, short- and long-term side effects, how the radiation will happen, how they will protect my lungs and heart, and how long it will last (6 weeks, 5 times a week - yes, that's 30 treatments). We've been doing a lot of research, and I don't think neither Ken nor I were surprised by anything she said. She laughingly said that her patients often tell her that, after chemo, radiation is easy. Somehow that didn't make me feel a whole lot better.
While waiting for the doctor, however, I started to feel overwhelmed again. Every day, the reality of this situation becomes a little more clear. When first diagnosed I was shocked, but determined I would get through this with grace (and a little style). In the ensuing weeks, some of that confidence has changed. I thought surgery would "fix" everything; then we were told I would need radiation in addition to my surgery. Now I'm facing chemo - and being told that there are "recurrence rates" and "10 year predictions" and "potentiality". Excuse me, but this is not what I had planned. I have a life, you know.
I had a life before cancer, and I am determined to have a life after cancer. I am not afraid of dying, but rather of living an unfinished life. Let's forget the upstairs hallway where the wallpaper stops half-way. Nevermind the number of sewing/quilting/beading/etc. projects I've always had good intentions of completing. None of that really matters. What I think about is my husband, my children, my grandchildren. I still have school, and two jobs, and a fence to build this spring, and some 5ks to run.
That's what I think about when I'm most afraid - the life in my Life. I worry that I am not strong enough to endure all of this. I am afraid of hurting, of being cranky, of being tired. I am afraid of being selfish. I am afraid of not being able to finish this - this treatment, this course. This life.
I have a wonderfully loving support system of family and friends; I know there will be days when they do much of the work for me. But there is still so much of this I have to do on my own, and I pray every day I have the strength. One minute at a time, one hour, one day. Baby steps.
I'm just plain scared of being unfinished.
My heart goes out to you more than you know!! I cheer for you! I pray for you...and I truly hope/pray/believe that you will achieve ALL you set forth to achieve!
ReplyDeleteOur lives are never finished, hon. We finish our breakfast, finish that book, finish painting the bathroom, etc. Every day is finished when we go to bed at night, but our life starts again the next morning. You are a "finished" person, a "finished" woman, a "finished" friend. You are complete and beautiful every day, and when the day is "finished," you can rest confident in the knowledge that from start to finish, you are living the best life that anyone can. Your life is a daily inspiration to me. You inspired me before the cancer,and you will continue to inspire me after its gone. I am honored and blessed to be your friend.
ReplyDeleteNancy, I love you so much. It's wonderful having you for a sister-in-law. You make Ken so happy, and you're such a good Mom and Grandmom. For all you do and all you are, you are allowed to be cranky and tired and even selfish while you go through these treatments.
ReplyDeleteWe're all unfinished and works in progress. The way you live your life shows you don't want to be finished, but rather, someone with continuing dreams, goal, projects.