I Am Linda

Die! Die!

There is so much to get caught up on here, but tonight I am tired so I'll just share a story that should help you understand my state of mind during one of my radiation treatments.It was just one of those days when I was feeling feisty. 

I was set up on the table and the techs scooted out of the room.  As I lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to the clicks and hums and whirls of the machine, the "beam on" light began to flash as the machine started to buzz.

All I remember of that moment is shouting "Die, you rat bastard cancer cells.  Die!"

Everyone had a good laugh.

It is finished

Today, August 30th, I had my last radiation treatment.

That's what I started writing four months ago.  I stopped writing because the exhaustion from the treatment and its aftermath became too much too handle.  I also stopped because every time I visited this page it was all I could do to hold back the tears.

On August 30th my mother accompanied me to the 'Cancer Center'  for my final radiation treatment.  She was treated like royalty and was given a tour of the treatment room and an explanation of the process.  She seemed to take it well. I asked her to wait for me outside, in the waiting room, since I did not want her to see her daughter on that table and I suspected it might be difficult for me knowing this was "the end."  I know myself pretty well.

It was all I could do to keep from collapsing to the floor in tears when I walked out of the treatment room.  But for my mother's sake, I held it together, somewhat, just long enough to get home and dash off to my bedroom where I could let the tears flow.  It was as much a catharsis as anything else.

Over the course of the next couple of days I found myself hiding out for a teary moment or two while my parents remained with me.  I had read that the period after treatment can be the most difficult.  Up until that time every day was full of decision making or reading, studying and assessing my options. 

Now what would I do?

L

A Post Cancer Christmas

It feels good and strangely odd to be writing again.  As I review my previous posts I see that the last entry I made was the last decision I had to make.  So much has happened since then.

This past Christmas was very interesting.  Typically my favorite time of year, this holiday season took on new meaning as the thought crossed my mind several times that it could have been my last.  Then it occured to me that even without cancer, it could be my last.  THAT was sobering and enough to snap me out of it!

This year, somehow the sounds, smells, sights, tastes and textures were all enhanced.  This year,   there were several times when I had to hold back the tears if I (mistakenly) allowed my mind to wander into places it should not go.  This year, I was somewhat surprised that no one in my family asked me how I was doing.  Don't get me wrong, I'm glad there was some semblance of normalcy in our get together this time, but I couldn't help realize how good my family is at making sure our physical needs are met and how we avoid anything that might come close to emotional and psychological support.  We're there for each other, but we don't talk about it.

We support each other in our own ways --- the calls from my sister or brother just to say "hey."  Or the hugs from my Mom and Dad and their brief "how are you?"  For some reason we are quick to hide our feelings if they are 'soft' or make us appear vulnerable (love, compassion, empathy, tenderness, fear, disappointment), but we seem to share, freely, if are feelings are 'hard' and make us feel righteous or strong (anger, frustration, pride).  Weird. Or is it that I am quick to hide my feelings if they make ME appear vulnerable?

I recall that it has been this way for most of my life.  Perhaps because of this I find solace in solitude.  I wonder if other people cry alone as much as I do.

This year I made sure I connected with my closest friends.  I reached out to old friends and made some new ones.  I take more pleasure in these relationships than these people may ever know and I also realize they are the greatest gifts I have ever received.  This year I truly understood that this holiday is not about the gifts or the decorations or the food or even the hospitality.  It's about the companionship. 

I'm sad to see the holidays go.  But I know that things are as they should be.  Things are moving on and friends and family are moving on from the scare I gave them this year.   It's just that sometimes,  it feels like everything and everyone is moving on without me.