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Gone for a Minute

Gone for a Minute

I picked a fight with Steve today. I pick fights when I am anxious about something. The way I pick fights is like an art form. I take the most trivial thing and make it seem like the apocalypse is coming. All in a matter of seconds. I can feel myself doing it too. I know deep down I shouldn't do it, but when you suffer from anxiety, sometimes taking it out on other people is equivalent to taking that sip of liquor for an alcoholic. 

I also realize I haven't blogged on here in a few weeks. I haven't even felt like it. Why? Am I over being a cancer advocate? Absolutely not. Has the blogging novelty worn off? Don't think so. Sometimes, I am just so sick of talking about being sick, even though I find myself always talking about it. I have been more angry about it than normal lately but haven't really talked about it. So I guess let me talk about it here. With all of y'all sipping your morning coffee and trying to find something not depressing to read. I don't blame you if you abandon this to check out the latest @fuckjerry post. No offense taken. 

So let's start with me getting the news that a very good friend of mine has a daughter who was in remission for Leukemia. Key word, was. She was 9 when she got diagnosed, and is now 15. So she was in remission for 5 years. She recently found out the cancer is back. Hearing this news affected me differently than it would before my diagnosis. I couldn't help but think- what the fuck? Does this mean I will never truly beat this? Am I fooling myself here? Will my cancer just come back no matter how much chemo/radiation and tamoxifen I take? I feel guilty even thinking of myself when she is the one who has the recurrence. Not me. My anxiety likes to take me 5 years into the future, when I really should be focused on the present. After all, the present is a gift, right? Still, I can't help but think about this girl everyday. It almost gets me less excited about finishing my treatment, because then what will I do? Sit around and wait for my cancer to come back? 

So enter I take that info and I go to my chemo treatment - round 5. I start thinking about how I have lost a few pounds since starting chemo, and have always attributed that to me not taking a bottle of Sancerre to the face my with my friends on the weekends. Now all of a sudden my mind has been going to the dark place. What if something else is wrong with me? My treatments and journey have been pretty drama free for the most part, so maybe this is the universe reminding me that it here certainly here to fuck me over and to not forget that. Again, my anxiety goes next level, and now I am weighing myself everyday in the hopes of gaining weight. Of course, my doctor doesn't seem concerned about this, but you can't tell an anxious person anything but "you are dying."

I have also had to miss 2 concerts, one that just happened and one that is upcoming. It makes me angry. I am sick of sacrificing things for cancer. I am annoyed and grumpy. I am exhausted. I am sick of pretending it is a joke gearing up for Neulasta, when it really makes me feel like shit. I keep looking at a calendar counting down the days until my last chemo thinking each time maybe it will look shorter to me. It still feels like it is years away. I am also scared to not have the chemo security blanket and let my immune system go it alone. My immune system has already let me down big time, although I do believe in second chances, I guess. 

I apologize for the word vomit this morning. But this is what life is. This is what having cancer is. Some days you are here for the fight and the inspiration and the sunset memes. Other days you are picking fights with your husband and eating lots of Nutella. Some days you are too exhausted to be all jazz hands about it. Or blog about it. I almost didn't blog about this, but I thin it is important to read about the shit days as much as the good ones. 

Tomorrow I am certain I will be back to sunset memes. I don't dwell for too long. 

Homies

Homies

O.P.C (Other People's Chemo *Routines*)

O.P.C (Other People's Chemo *Routines*)