Helped Chris with a home improvement project today. Now paying for it and can hardly move…my joints locked up in exhaustion and pain, my body puffy and swollen from who knows what, my heart sad for, well, it’s obvious. As I type my hands and wrists throb from doing too much and my brain is foggy and struggling for words because when my body hurts and I’m exhausted, my capacity for much else crumbles.
Tonight, I don’t care to find or acknowledge a positive opposite to my frustration. #cancersucks
*Post 1001
Fickle :: 12/27/17 :: Post 120
Fickle.
That word came to me as I was driving home from work.
—adjective
- likely to change, especially due to caprice, irresolution, or instability; casually changeable.
- not constant.
I feel like my emotions are fickle. One moment I’m sobbing. The next, I’m angry. Or sometimes it’s confusion or fear or despair. Moments of peace and comfort and resolution also come and go.
Last week I was ready to quit everything. This week, I’m not. Earlier today I felt *almost normal. Tonight, I feel awful and like I’m about to puke my guts out. Yesterday I wanted to escape. Today I was resolved to participate in every moment. No matter how hard. It’s no wonder the Lord cautions us from being on our own… from trying to navigate life alone… from making sense of the upside down, inside out and backwards circumstances solo. It’s too hard trying to go it alone. Especially with a fickle heart…….and fickle circumstances. This upheaval continues to teach me the value of steadfastness in the midst of the rollercoaster of fickle emotions or circumstances.
Steadfast.
—adjective
- fixed in direction; steadily directed.
- firm in purpose, resolution, faith, attachment, etc.
- unwavering, as resolution, faith, adherence, etc.
Grateful for a community that constantly surrounds me so I’m not alone. Grateful for a faith that is deepening despite being challenged, stretched and tested. Grateful for my God who will not leave or forsake me. Who endures when I don’t want to. Who holds me close even when I push Him away. Who is steadfastly present when I’m inconsistent and fickle.
Contrast :: 12/27/18 :: Post 471
An interesting occurrence today…
My oncologist ordered a CT scan this month so that in my January appointment with her, we could review it. We are “keeping an eye” on the spot on my lung that they saw during my diagnostic scans back in September of 2017.
So, that was this morning. Fun. A CT scan with contrast. Contrast is weird. When they push the dye through my IV, my vascular system gets really hot and it feels like I’m peeing my pants. It’s so strange.
On my way to the appointment, I wasn’t thinking too much about it. It seemed routine and non-alarming. On my way to work after the appointment, I experienced something different. What would it be like to hear, “cancer is back”? What would I do? How would I feel? Of course it’s not likely….but my reality is that it’s a possibility. And that possibility follows me. And it follows me forever.
Gut punch.
I’m grateful I’m alive. I’m grateful for a resilient body. I’m grateful for the transformation. It’s come at a high price, though…..and the realities, harsh.
Living Changed Head to Toe Day 27 :: 12/27/19 :: Post 835
Chris and I ran a few errands today…I did a lot of getting in and out of the car, a lot of walking, a lot of adjusting this bodysuit (insert eye roll here). I am so tired…just from a few errands (insert another eye roll). I got home and wanted to lay down for a bit so I came up to my room. And every step up the stairs was like a 9 out of 10 on the pain scale. My knees and ankles are the worst of all of my joint pain and that makes me anxious for what my future holds.
While Chris and I were out and about, I was talking to him about how strange it felt to be in the survivorship side of cancer at only 40. Prior to diagnosis, I remember thinking about how 40 felt so old. “You’re so young to have cancer…,” “I can’t believe you’re only 37…,” “Are you sure it doesn’t run in your family?,” “Make sure you connect with other young women diagnosed…” was all I heard and it made 40 feel so much different than before. Now I find that I’m having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that I could very well have 40+ more years ahead of me! It feels strange to battle and survive a disease that is so stereotypically connected with old age. So, if I hurt so bad now, what in heaven’s name are my next 40 years going to look like? No wonder I wrestle with anxiety over having RA. No wonder I get emotional when I consider the ramifications of surviving cancer so young. No wonder I get overwhelmed by the idea of what real survivorship is. The focus, when diagnosed, is ‘beating this thing’ and I’m all for that, believe me…but as I’ve said before, surviving cancer (and in my case, surviving cancer so young and with a new rest-of-my-life autoimmune disease) is a whole new beast.
Living changed, head to toe, day 27 – a gentle reminder to live short. I don’t have to live 40 years ahead of where I am. I will need to remind myself of this often when I feel the anxiety creep in…especially because ‘living one step at a time’ is actually a painful cliché for me.