Thoughts

So much going through my head today,
where do I begin?

I wanted to write an entry about my
actual Day 5 before it got too far
away, and I forgot things.

I suppose I could start there, after
all, things that happened that day
still linger in other thoughts that
I am having.

For starters I met someone in the
morning that was quite happy.  He
was told his cancer was gone.
Quite frankly, given how I was
feeling, his enthusiasm and wide
smile was a bit much for me.

He wanted to talk.  I wasn't so
sure I wanted to.

I was really happy for him.  He
seemed to be a great person, and
I wanted to be more open.  After
all, this was GOOD news that I
could embrace.

We spoke a bit, and then went our
separate ways until a little while
later we ran into each other again.
We spoke a bit more, and I got a
nice compliment.  He thought I was
considerably younger than I am.

That usually does a woman's ego
good.  It was good to hear, given
I have wondered how I will be
affected by the surgery I had,
and everything else that my body
is going through.

Age is just a number people say.
Interestingly he told me his age,
and I couldn't believe it.  The
way he seemed to be was also
younger than what the number
would indicate.  It would seem
his enthusiasm and smile were
carrying him far.

While I wasn't anywhere near
where he seemed to be mentally,
I was taking notes.  There had to
be a reason why we had met, and
not only that, the fact that we
met more than once.

As my day progressed, I met with
a nurse for an assessment.  Without
it, I am not cleared for chemo.
As we spoke I mentioned how my mind
seems to have some issues at times.
I was pretty much chalking it up to
"chemo brain," and had said I had
said something to the doctor the
previous week.

I also mentioned how I was
considering a PICC.  She basically
tried to tell me how wrong I was
to be considering it, and told me
how difficult it would be to manage
one, and how dangerous it could be
for my health if it wasn't
maintained properly.

She wouldn't let up.

By the time I was done with her,
I felt lousy (actually sh*tty more
fits) and had an appointment for
an MRI of my brain and needed to
get a consult regarding the PICC
and port, as well as talking to a
speech pathologist.

That's what I get for being honest
about what is going on with me.

I know you may be thinking that it
is a good thing that I am being
honest, and may not understand why
I would feel like I do about these
things.

I was told the doctor was just being
cautious by ordering these things.
Cautious?  What was there to be
cautious about?  I didn't have the
issues I have in regard to my thinking
until I began chemo.  It has to be
the chemo, right?  Well apparently
they need an MRI to be sure.

Do they really?

I was kinda stunned.  I didn't say
much, but I made the appointment.

Monday I want to ask some questions.

Before all of this, I rarely ever
even took an aspirin for anything.
There have been times in my life
where I have done a bit more, but
they have been rare.

Me and doctors have had non-existent,
to distant relationships.  I have
taken as little medicine as possible.

In the last several months, I was
pumped with medicine, had major surgery,
a number of x-rays, and 3 cat scans
with dye, and now they want to add
an MRI.  This, all in the interest
of seeing how I am?  At the same time,
I know that the tests that they do can
have their own effects on my body.

They must feel the trade off worth it.
At the same time, just the suggestion
of there being something to check out
and consider bothers me to no end.

I am sure I must be fine.  But they
seem to think they need to be sure
that I am.  Part of me says take the
test and know, and another part of me
wants to say NO THANK YOU.

I don't know which part will "win,"
but I will have a better sense after
I get a chance to ask questions and
get answers on Monday.

Then there is the whole speech person
thing.  What the heck is me talking to
them going to tell them?

I have been struggling lately with the
idea that I am headed in a direction
that I don't want to go in.  It seems
in my limited awareness of people's
experiences with cancer that people
get worse before they get better.  It
is a conversation and experience that
I don't really want I want for myself.
I want everything to proceed as "normal,"
without these fright inducing detours.

I have heard that where your attention
goes - even if it is to avoid something,
as that is still attention - that is
your experience.  Just in case it is
"true" I feel the need to work this out
so I can get it out of my field of
possibilities.  It is likely in my
best interest any way, as the fear I
feel sucks.

At the same time, I am trying to
balance my lack of desire to know
things that scare me with being
responsible to myself as a patient.
That is turning out to be one of the
most difficult things to do.

However in the course of being responsible
to myself, I did find out that there are
some people who have gotten their ports
in their arm.  The doctor who told me
about the port never mentioned that as
a possibility.  Some people online said
it was not an option given them, but they
did not say why.  Others told of issues
some had with the port in their arm.

Apparently you can have all kinds of
issues with anything you do, and the
installation of a port can even kill
you, if the doctor does the "wrong"
thing.

I don't want to know these things.
And yet, I need to ask questions.
I need to know what my options are.

I am not going to be able to get chemo
through IVs any more, and if I am going
to continue with chemo, I have other
choices I must make.

In the mind/body world constipation is
a result of not letting go, and not
"going with the flow."  Whether or not
these types of things are "true," I
find they often can fit where I am in
relation to my life.  I don't always
know what I am supposed to do with it,
or what the true source of the feeling
is, but it gives me a little bit to
go on.

What is the "flow" here?  Just because
the doctor says "go" doesn't mean it
is the right thing.  After all, the
GI doctor made me do an unnecessary
colonoscopy when I came to him with
my symptoms.  He never once indicated
it could be anything but a GI issue.
Although I would have to think that
because ovarian cancer can masquerade
as a GI issue, he would know there
was a possibility (even if it was
considered "slight").

I have been adamant that I do not want
a port.  I feel the tide might be
changing, a bit.  I also feel part of
my reluctance may indeed be psychological.

I have scars on my stomach and abdomen,
but they do not bother me.  I am barely
aware of them, and they are often
covered by clothes.  The idea of having
a scar on my chest that can, and will, be
seen every time I look in the mirror
bothers me.  I think I could deal with
it a lot better if it was on my arm.

As I write that, it occurs to me that
it could also be a positive reminder
of something good, if I allow it to be.
It COULD be.  If I let it.  If it turns
out that is the direction I am going in,
I will need to see what I can do to
create that for myself.  I almost think
it might be more powerful than avoiding
it all together by it being on my arm.

Maybe.

Today I saw a couple of hairs that may
be from my eyebrows or eyelashes.  I
couldn't tell.  Either way, that was
disheartening, too.  So far they seem
to be holding on, and I am hopeful that
they will stick around, but seeing that
makes me wonder if I will soon have to
learn how to draw eyebrows.

Recently I have been looking at a lot
of women's eyebrows.  I am surprised
how many actually draw their brows,
seemingly because they WANT to.

This slightly heads back in the direction
of the longer conversation I wasn't ready
for in my last entry.

I am still not ready for it.

I do, however, feel a bit better getting
the mess of words and worry out of my head
and onto this virtual paper.

The days that follow my treatments are
pretty sucky.  Thanks to a C-Band on my
wrist, it seems the nausea stays away.
But I am still left feeling not so great
physically which in turn leaves me not
so great emotionally.

All I want to do is sleep.

At some point I likely will give into that
feeling.  I am guessing my body probably
needs it, given what it is going through.
But I also have things I want to do and
need to do that aren't getting done.

I need to find a way to manage the details
that are overwhelming me.  I recently
received a bill for $300 for anesthesia
for my colonoscopy which I am not sure
what to do about it, and I got my first
bill for my current treatments that I
need to figure out how to proceed with
that, as my bank account is only going
in one direction - down, and I really
can't afford to start paying much for
what has been done.

Conversations need to be had.

Every day this situation becomes more
"real," and I can only hope that I have
it in me to get through this.  There
are times I have my doubts about things.

Lately I have heard more than once
"whatever doesn't kill you, makes you
stronger." I heard it before my diagnosis,
but it has a whole different feeling
when the thing you are dealing
with literally has the potential to
kill you.

And then there are times that I am
not so sure these sayings really mean
something in all cases.  I think
sometimes we make up sayings in an
attempt to fix things and make us
feel better about things.

Being human encompasses a range of
experiences, and some of them really
suck.  There is no way to get around
it.  Sugar coating it to make ourselves
feel better is not likely to be the
worst thing, but then again, it might
give us the idea that something is
wrong about the sucky part of life.

And when we feel something is wrong
we don't feel good about it, or ourselves.

We often try to fix things in our
life, and I think often without
great success.  It is probably
because not everything (and maybe
very few things?) is meant to be
fixed, or can be fixed.

Maybe things just are what they are,
and we do our best to interact with
them at whatever level we are capable.
Maybe the idea of the need to "fix"
things is what causes us grief.

Maybe.

I have never really had this
conversation quite like this before.
It is just coming to me as I write.

As I think about life in general, and
how people seem to be in regard to
life, it seems that there are many
who are unhappy because of some ideal
that they haven't met, and maybe never
will meet.  At the same time, they
are told that this product, or this
thing, or this thought will make
everything right with the world.

Often it leaves them still wanting,
and nothing has changed.

My head hurts a bit.

I think this is more than I can
fully write about now.  I do feel
like there is something to it,
though.

I guess time will tell
me if I am right,
or maybe I
will get lucky
and it will
atleast give me a hint.