Ten days and counting…
Surgery is imminent. While a part of my logical mind knows that this is the first concrete and necessary step towards ridding my body of cancer, there is still a huge dam of denial that is about to break as the reservoir of reality breaches the safety zone. I am managing in mirco-seconds… taking care of what is before me, one step at a time. There is no way to REALLY prepare yourself for this ride. I wake up only to remember over and over what is before me. I go through the motions of what needs to be done on any average day, plus 10x that as I try to busy my body to keep the intensity of my feelings at bay. (This doesn’t really work by the way. After 2 days of exhaustion, you end up a messy puddle, the endorphins from a good cry carry you through to the next day and the cycle begins again.) I may be having a nice afternoon and someone’s well intentioned question hits me in an unexpected way… how am I? Honestly?
Proposed miracle cures that have saved others and ominous warnings about chemotherapy and the evils of the medical industrial complex are equally not helpful to me now. I know everyone means well. I recognize the desire to be helpful and to contribute in some meaningful way. Know though, that it is taking every ounce of my courage to make the choices I’ve made and that I have researched like CRAZY and know that I have to go the route that I’m going. Each time I hear someone’s well intentioned suggestion, I hurt a little inside, because I wish there were other choices for me that would end in a good outcome. Something other than surgery and chemotherapy, please. The fact is, I can not wager my future and being around to see my son graduate grade school and beyond… It is too late for doubt.
BUT, thank you for your prayers. Thank you for holding me and my family in your light. Thank you for the generosity and the care that has come to us during these trying days and for the days to come. Thank you for sharing in this experience with me.
6 thoughts on ““How are you?” and other absurdities”
Melissa, You’re an amazing woman. I know this is so scary for you and your family! I can’t imagine the reality of that fear…every day. The choices you made, and for the reasons you gave, are very important and they are the right choices.
I know that you have tremendous support and have many friends who will be there for you and your family. If there are any lists being organized for dinners after you’ve had your surgery, please post this. I’d like to help in this way, at the very least.
I hold you and your family in healing light.
I have been wanting and sometimes began to reach out only to erase my message and wait until the right words came to me though I know far too we’ll there are no right words. Having seen my father through rounds of very specific cancer with very difficult decisions and the impossible burden of trying to coordinate and keep on top of each and every detail, I remover the many well intended things we heard and of the unintended impact all those “things” people wrote and or said to my father, my mother and I. I have so been wanting to simply let you know that we love you dearly and hate like hell that you are going through this. You need anything from us that will make any moment along the way a little less heavy on you we are here. A meal, a babysitter, a coffee break, a grocery trip dropped to your door, you got it. You have some extended family here, no matter how much or little we get together the love is the same and “we got you”! I will stop writing for now, I know it’s a lot of energy just reading the many messages and having so many things to take on and tackle each day. You know in your heart of hearts what you need to do for you, they are all your decisions and we are standing with you as support. Please let me know the address you receive your mail at, additionally all our love and good vibes are already on their way 😉
Thanks for giving us updates on your surgery. I will keep an eye out today for Julian.
The funny thing about us all is we think we know right? We think we know what being an adult will be like when we are teenagers. We think we know what parenting will be like when we are considering the idea. We think we know what choices we will make when faced with our life in the balance.
But we don’t.
What we can do is, as you have, choose a path that you trust and travel on it.
The most important path to take is the one you feel is the best to take. Simple as that.
And it is important that we support you in your journey. I can’t and i won’t do anything but that.
Thank you for sharing your truth.
I wanted to wish you and Joey all the best. You are in my thoughts.
Thank you for being strong enough to blog and share your hopes and fears. I have not walked in your shoes, so each day I have added you to my prayers. May today be a day filled with less pain, less doubt, an abundance of strength and more love than most hearts can hold.