I feel like people are getting tired of me having cancer.  Like as tired as every little girl’s mom is of the Frozen soundtrack.  But, you know, it’s on non-stop repeat around here, and that may be too much for people to handle.  It’s too much for me to handle, really.  I wish I could mute it, but I can’t.  So instead, I’m trying to learn how to truly Let It Go without going cah-razy.

I mean, I get it.  I really do.  This stuff is heavy.  Five months and going is a long time to be so emotionally invested.  Heavy burdens and stuff.  Buuuut, I only have one more chemo left  (after I make it through this next week or so of yucks)!  And this bad boy below and those sweet smiles are keeping me going.

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Josh and I NEEDED a visual representation that this would end.  I also NEEDED something to keep the kids busy on an afternoon when I wasn’t feeling so great.  Double score.  Seriously, you guys, this pink posterboard countdown is doing its part in keeping me sane.  With such irrational JOY, I cross off another day.  And although Penny really wants to draw the “X” at bedtime, I’m a mean mommy.  This fight is definitely all for the family, but those little pink boxes are mine.

Anyway, Monday was chemo 5 of 6, and I always think it will be just fine if I go it alone.  I mean, it’s just a little blood work, doctor’s appointment, and infusion.  However, my standard answer to, “How are you feeling?” right now is “Physically, I feel like an 82 year old, and emotionally, I’m 14,” so I should always know that Josh needs to be there.  I tell him not to miss work, but he knows better.  I mean, you don’t let a 14 year old go to the doctor alone, right?

Usually, before I see my oncologist, a resident or an NP assesses me, and last time, I saw the resident.  Upon seeing some fresh bruises, he told me that my blood counts are low (duh!) and to try not to hit my head on anything (mmmkthanks,duh!).

I smirk.  “That’s kind of how I live my life anyway.  You know, not hitting my head.”

He half smiled, half looked at me like I was an idiot.

For real though.  Do I really need instructions not to hit my head?  I’m pretty sure I’ve always tried to avoid concussions, subdural hematomas, and brain bleeds in general.  I’m a nurse, you know.  And my GPA has always been higher than most.  I’m not an idiot.

Except, after three weeks, I HAVE taken greater care not to hit my head.  Who am I?  And why was there room to improve my head protection abilities?  I am now questioning my whole life (because the cancer wasn’t enough to spur this new train of though.  jk. jk.)  Just, wow, is all.

Anway, THIS time going into my appointment, I silently prayed that I would see the nurse practitioner.  You see, I’ve been, uhh, emotional lately, and I knew that Mary was the only one I would actually discuss this with.  I’d guess she’s about the same age as me.  She has two daughters the same age as mine.  She feels a little like a girlfriend at the doctor’s office.  Her background is nursing, and I can feel it.  She’s much more organized and listens to my concerns.  At the risk of sounding dramatic, she sees me.

When Mary walked in, I immediately felt more cared for.  For the first five minutes, we didn’t even discuss my health or the cancer.  We talked about our kids and caught up.  That’s as long as my oncologist is usually in the room.  When she finally asked, “Well, how are you doing?” I looked her straight in the eye and said, “I’m crazy.”

“I’m crazy.  Or I feel like I’m going crazy, you know?  I’m not usually like this.  I’m emotional,” and tears form as if on cue, “irritable, moody.  Sometimes, I get a lot of anxiety about the future.  Fear.  I just feel so emotional and crazy right now.”

She tilts her head.  “I don’t know if this will make you feel any better or not, but I have had this same conversation probably ten times today.  This really is normal.  It’s not only your hormones but also chemo does a lot to your body.”

This conversation came an hour after an echocardiogram (ultrasound of my heart) that I cried through because the lady had to use contrast dye.  In all fairness, at the beginning she noted that she was happy that my port was accessed in case she did, in fact, need to use contrast dye.  When I said, “Well, that wouldn’t be good.  Let’s hope not,” she agreed.  Thirty minutes later, she looked at me shirtless and in the dark and said, “It looks like we do need a little contrast, honey.”

Glass-Case-of-Emotion

It turned out fine, but geez, I don’t like being this girl.  And I’m pretty sure I know how Josh feels about my “mood swings.”  It’s not all day every day, but it’s enough to drive me crazy.

Mary and I talked all about it, and she ultimately suggested an anti-depressant, which makes me feel weird.  My doctor then came in and pretty much threw a script at me, no questions asked.

I haven’t started it yet.  I just never saw myself headed here.  I probably will, but I’m just not sure.  I don’t feel depressed.  Just unstable.  lololololol.  For the most part, I am happy.  Punctuated with moments of extreme sorrow, anxiety, fear, annoyance.  And those hot flashes.

That’s probably pretty much an ad for an anti-depressant, right?  Well, I am all for sharing with you guys, and I don’t want to sugarcoat this journey too much.  So this is probably happening.

On another note, I bet you didn’t know this happens at chemo.

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Yeah, those jerks (just kidding, lovely nurses!) ice my fingers and toes during one of the hour long meds so my nails don’t turn black and fall off and stuff.  Blah, blah, blah.  In turn, I get to feel like Olaf while trying out my Elsa powers.  Tooooo muuuuch Diiiiiisney.

Also of note, I am trying to figure out what to be for Halloween.  I think it would be fun to incorporate my bald head.  Like, I could be Britney Spears, circa 2007, which would also accurately represent my mental state AND make me laugh a lot.  Or Dr. Evil.  I’ve had suggestions of Charlie Brown, Daddy Warbucks, Mr. Clean, GI Jane.  What do you guys think?

So that’s about it.  Chemo countdown.  My craziness.  Heather Ice Hands.  Frighteningly similar to Brit Brit.  Yeah.

1 comment on “My Glass Case of Emotion.”

  1. as a 14 yr bc surv flat and faboulas reconsrtive surgey was never once discussed with us, but thats ok cause rven though i had a double mast i felt and still feel strong enough spiritual enough to handle not having a chest, never second questioned myself about getting re constrive surgey done, and i have never tried to hide my chest area in my choice of clothing i wear ! as far as depressuon ya at times thru out this journey thats still going on yes i felt like i had enough of eniugh and thought i was going crazy at times, for days on end especially at the beginning i sat and cried and cried, thought no body understood my moods of devastintion even though i had and still have great support thru husband and a set of grown triplets i started to become almost hermit like, didnt want to do anything but cry and. sit displaying hissy fits, be bitter, rude, and even gave up in keeping up my apperance was prescibed paxil not just for depression but battle ocd and still live in 24/7 severe chroic pain due to my sugeon slicing or touching a main nerve of the central neverius system leaving me with a disorder called alloydynia, i still live in a world of opoiads but they r loosing there effect, more depression as i know there is no fix to this and is spreading right thru my body, the anti depreesant helped with my ocd but actually made me more anxious and more deoressed switched to many different anti depressants like ciprlex, efforor etc, then by a very long emotional confuntration by the triplets pleading to have their ole mom back something clicked in my brain about the impact i was having towards my loved ones and realized that i was throwing my own pity parties and used my chronic pain as an excuse not to do things, etc. that was about 2 yrs after finishing 18 rounds if chemo and being told constantly that i had only a 20-25 % chance of survival from the get go and used this as well with my pity party by always saying i shouldnt even be alive etc and to be honest at times i wasnt sure i wanted to be alive, as the grandkids started really happening on the 2 nd birth of another grandson ( now at 7 grandsons ) and a true heart to heart almost like an intervention i snapped iut if it all accepted the journey, accepted the pain, accepted the. knowledge the pain will remain with me for the rest if my life and will only get worse. i went against all my drs advice wiened myself off the anti depressants, faced reality within myself and brought back my spirituality ( nothing to do with religion ) and for the past 11 yrs have never gone back to my behavior i displayed the first 3 yrs and got into yoga and inner peace, and live by IT IS WHAT IT IS, and CHANGE DEPENDS ON YOU ALONE, and IM DRIVING MY OWN BUS !!! i refuse to ever allow myself back to those days, found my old ways of being a strong, spiritual, educated happy woman without any anti depressants not even for my severe ocd, and embrace every day FOR WHAT IT IS.personally i think anti depressants r just a bandage and over prescibed. it all is your mind set of what each of us make it to be, i remain to live a happy. content healthy peaceful lifestyle as im truely alive, fought many battles and won the wars!!!! acceptance moderation of anything and inner peace is my way as IT IS WHAT IT IS and IM DRIVING MY OWN BUS not a lifestyle given out in a pill to make me happy….

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