Smack with a frying pan

Hey y'all...it's me....
 
It has been way too long and I am sorry for that.  I don't know why there has been a lag in my writing, some of it is simply life moving way too fast and some of it is a little bit of a reality bite in the ass.  Nonetheless, here I am ready to pour it out, dust my self off, and allow the prayer warriors, energy givers, and faith believers to do their magic for me.  I know, I know, that is egocentric, slightly narcissistic, and selfish but please believe me when I say, I think of all of you, pray for your kindness and pay it forward in every way possible.  Hand to Bible, I do! 

Life has been moving at the speed of light.  I woke up and it is July, half the summer is over, there were Christmas ornaments and decorations in the store I was in last week.  What the hell man, the witches and goblins haven't even graced my doorstep and you are dancing Santa Claus in my face.  Slow the fuck down world....I guarantee the  powers that be who run the stores, merchandising, and marketing are not staring down an expiration date as people like me face daily.  They are not thinking of living mindfully, embracing the moment, and singing Kunbaya in the rain.  It is just another mind fuck for me....slow down but oh wait let's plan our Christmas table decorations before we even carve a pumpkin.

So what's the skinny in my world these days.  I woke up last week and was smacked in the head with a cast iron frying pan. If you recall, and its totally cool if you don't but I never shared the actual number Dr. K gave me back when I was given my treatment protocol.  There were a couple of reasons for that.  One, I didn't want my kids to dwell on it and two, I wasn't ready to think of the progression of metastatic disease.  I wasn't living in a bubble, I just think my brain was still protecting me from a kick in the ass of reality.  I mean, I knew what metastatic meant but again the mind fuck was that once I started my chemotherapy pill, I was feeling better not 100% great but definitely better than the bone pain, fever and lack of appetite I was experiencing prior to my diagnosis.  For the past 2 months and through the first 2 round of chemo, I was working hard at staying in the now, being mindful, doing healthy activities, finding the egocentric place a cancer patient has to live in at times in order to survive the healthiest possible life they can.  

We all know that during those 2 rounds, I battled head to head with the cancer bitch and often feel I was the victor in many of those rounds.  I may have periods of being low but I always told the cancer bitch to stop, sometimes out loud, talking to myself in the car, on a walk, or standing in the middle of the store.  So if you are hearing gossip around town about a short, red headed lady babbling to herself...it's me...I am the crazy one talking to the imaginary ghost standing next to me.  I don't think twice when people look at me funny or take a step back, if I have to say STOP out loud to quiet the bitch down, then that's what I do...again that egocentric place I have to be in in order to survive.   

One of the first things doctors and nurses tell someone who is diagnosed with a terminal disease is NOT to look it up on the internet.   I have been a model patient and followed these rules.  The internet is a great source of information however with something like this, it will be information overload and you often see the worse case of scenarios.  It is like listening to a prescription drug commercial where they run through the list of side effects everything from headaches, vomiting, constipation to turning green, growing an antler out of your ass, and randomly singing Brittany Spears songs throughout the day and night.   Where I have faltered is the grand world of Facebook.  In our Big Brother is watching world, Facebook magically knows just by the search of something innocent that you say....want to buy Birkenstocks or are looking for a metastatic virtual support group.  Then I began getting "suggested groups I may like" and this is where the trouble began.  I would look at these groups and start reading and absorbing and hearing about this persons death or this issue or how this protocol or that protocol stopped working.  I began to watch videos and seeing things about the median statistical length of prognosis from onset.  It went sliding down the ski hill at that point.

The one piece of information that stuck out for me is this "median statistic" for length of life....are you ready for this.  Take a moment to stop reading and listen to me.  My kids and family know this so I am not blowing up a state secret.  John has talked to them about this impact and how it is just a statistic and I NEED Y'ALL TO REMEMBER THIS.....THIS IS ONLY A STATISTIC.  I am not yelling by the way, this is my version of an Italian waving their hands around.  If it wasn't for my fingers flying over the keys my hands would be waving in the air.  OK....here it is....the statistic is 3 years.  That was the frying pan that hit me in the face and just when I thought I had my shit together and was doing so damn well.   

I fell down the sink hole and not even Lassie could help me.  I was doing so good, working on my NOT BUCKET LIST and trying to enjoy the mindful moments of each day and then I saw this.  So what did I do....I had to talk to Dr. K.  Luckily I had an appointment to draw my labs, check on my chemotherapy side effects and schedule my first 3 month scan....which by the way is July 24th.  YIKES.....there is that frying pan just smacking me over and over again like a cartoon.  If you look at me closely, you might even see the stars swirling around my head.  Dr. K in his kind, pragmatic way confirmed that yes, that is the statistic BUT he said that in order to get an average statistic you have to have people who perform above and below average.  Duh, I know that but somehow my brain cells are short circuiting and I am not thinking so clearly.  He also said that with my reduction in pain and fever that he is hopeful this treatment is performing well and that I would be able to fall into the above average group.   He said he believes I should live longer than the statistic.  

I lived in the hole all last week.  I kept seeing that number in my head and I became numb with fear.  Rationally I know that my disease will progress, it will not simply stay in my bones, hanging out smoking a cigar and drinking a vodka tonic.  Rationally I know there will be many different types of treatment in my future.  Rationally I know all of this.  Rationally I know that my expiration date is sooner than the norm.  Irrationally I think I blocked all of this out.  I mean, who wants to think of this shit...right? 

I have begun to claw my way out of the hole, dirt dropping on my face, sweat, tears, LOTS of profanity.  I am still climbing and think I always will be to some degree.  I move an inch or two forward and may slip a little back.  I have taken some things into my own hands, looking into other programs at Wellness House in Hinsdale, seeking a therapist to talk with, looking at my NOT BUCKET LIST and checking things off, praying more.  But here is a sad reality.  If this was a movie, everything would stop and I would travel the city and world knocking off everything I have ever wanted to do.  I would be languishing time with my family and friends.  I would do everything because I don't want to miss anything.  I am a toddler in Chuckie Cheese, wide eyed and crazy wanting to do everything all at once.  But my life is not a movie script and simply life, real life prevents some of this from happening.  I still have laundry and chores, swim meets and water polo tournaments, bills and clients.  

I know what you want to say....it can wait.  But that is the thing, some of it cannot wait.  Some is just life being life.  For example, I want to see my son in his games and meets.  I have to do laundry unless I plan on living my remaining years as a nudist and who the hell would want to see that (not to mention my family would have to become nudists as well).  We would likely get thrown in jail as I don't think the police would buy my reasoning of "see officer, I am metastatic and I just want to live and enjoy everything I can before I expire so I gave up laundry"....yeah, I don't think that is a good idea.  I have to do the business of life but find the balance of living everyday to it's fullest.  That is the ultimate mind fuck!

So what now, you say.  This is a start....getting it out of my head.  Next, I try....that is all I can do.  I do not know how people facing trauma do not hide under the covers and play invisible - that is what I want to do when I am in the hole.  But I have to try....my strength is shaken....this is hard and very real right now.  I pray my scan is good as Dr. K hopes.  I pray that I don't expire too soon.  I pray for strength and humility and hope and faith and healing peace.  I pray there will be a breakthrough in this metastatic breast cancer war.

I simply pray....

Peace  ✌
Jo