Thursday, May 13, 2010

Priorities

I need to get my priorities straight.
Here I am. midnight.
chemo begins in T minus nine hours. and counting.
and here I am. whining.
complaining.
cracking snarky jokes about fallin' off the wagon,
but they're trying to save my life.
Have I gotten SO adapted to having cancer that it's become an annoyance??
I've gotten so good at being a patient that I have forgotten I am actually under attack?
All day long, every minute of every day my cells are at war. They are fighting for their (or rather, MY) life, and here I am complaining.
How can I remind myself that I have a terminal disease which can (and chances are will) kill me, when I'm feeling so good?
Its been a nice couple months. I've been off chemo since february. And although I've been plenty busy with many many trips to hospitals, it was such a change of pace...the whole cyberknife thing...that I guess I just got too comfortable.
I got to accustomed to having my skin back to what I remember. To having my hair actually have a shine to it again, instead of the dull look from all the various chemicals coursing through me. I got way to comfortable not having any taste issues, and being able to eat and drink ANYthing at ANYtime I wanted. I was too spoiled to actually have fridays OFF.
Trivialities really.
Really.
Because in the grand scheme of things, why should I be so concerned with these trivial things when my actual existance is at stake?
I could die. very easily. very quickly. and with no notice. specifically FROM this cancer. any given moment or instance, this tumor growing inside me (or ones they don't see currently) can wrap around some key artery, or impede an organ's function, or anything. and next thing you know, no more Becca. I'm not exaggerating over overreacting.
But because I feeeeeeel good and healthy at this very moment in time, I seem to feel it appropriate to bitch and moan about the inconvenience of chemo.
Really.
Its an inconvenience. It gets in the way. It cramps my style. I have too much living to do to be bothered with sitting in an infusion room.
GAH I just want to SCREAAAAAM. Fuckin' chemo. I thought I was done with you! How did I ever manage to convince myself of that?
And so Here I am.
Here I sit.
at my desk. at midnight. trying to get my head right. And trying to organize my priorities.
It seems somethings never change.

12 comments:

  1. My heart goes out to you. That is so much to deal with and it made me so sad to read. Keep fighting girl.

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  2. Sounds like your priorities are straighter than you think they are.... good luck.

    Dan

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  3. As always you are in my thoughts. I wish there was something more I could say.

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  4. My Dad is starting round 5 this week and it's tough. We will keep you in our thoughts!!

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  5. You have every right and reason to whine. Chemo SUCKS, no matter what, and having to do it even once, let alone twice or more is devastating.

    Chemo is not for sissies. And you, my dear, are certainly no sissy. I hope it wasn't too hard on you. Keeping you in my thoughts and prayers.

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  6. Hey Becca, I just linked to your blog from Carcinista's page. I have Hodgkins Lymphoma and am also in the process of going BACK into treatment. This post could have been written by me (actually I will probably like to it from my blog at www.dangennari.com), because it echo's how I have felt for the past few months being off chemo. I feel good, I have lots of energy, I never have to turn down food because I know it will taste like drippings from the garbage truck, but, in 7 days I will be hooked up to the drip drip drip... I have lots of questions for you, but I will go through your older posts and learn more before I start asking questions. Are you going to OMG!?

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  7. pirates love you becca. so do gypsies. and pilots. reading you is always a grand experience. chemo is the most annoying friend that you wish would move to a different town for good. for all my hopes it will.

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  8. I love you very much. I wish I could rub my hands together like Karate Kid and heal you like "that"!

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  9. Becca, you have expressed the very thoughts and feelings that my husband and I have at this very moment. He was diagnosed with Stage 3C colorectal cancer in 2005, which has metastasized to lungs (early 2008), brain (June 2008) and most recently to the bones. Aside from the bone pain, be feels quite fine. And to sit and look at him, no one would guess how sick he was, if they could even guess he was sick! Cruel disease...

    Please take care, keep your chin up, and beat this thing!!

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  10. Thank you Lorna. It never ceases to sadden me to hear about ANYone having to go through ANY of this b.s. Give my best to your husband, we both are gonna kick-ass!

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  11. Hi Becca,

    If you ever have time and are bored....check out my blog at calupdate.blogspot.com

    Thanks for sharing your experience - it really sucks that so many people are affected by this dastardly disease, but you are able to show how you just have to keeping kicking ass! Keep up the great work!

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