Wednesday, July 27, 2011

March 24th 2011 - Xanax is my best friend right now

I want to thank everyone that's commented on Facebook and sent me messages of love and support. It's funny, but if you had told me a few months ago that a person would be diagnosed with skin cancer and it had a severe impact on them, I would have laughed. Regrettable, but true. If the doctor had told me yes, it's skin cancer, but we removed it and you're fine, then I would have shrugged it off and gotten on with life. It's the part where the doctor said "I hate to give you bad news..but...", then proceeded to tell me I'll need more surgery and I'll need to meet with an oncologist. That just rams home the truth.... I have cancer.

Cancer. Cancer.

Mom keeps telling me the more I say it, the less shocking it is and the less power it has over me.

My mom had it, ovarian cancer, they did surgery and she was fine. Deni had it, skin cancer, several times, they removed it, and she's fine. I have it, but I have to have more surgery, and a lymph node biopsy. I'm sure the oncologist will want to discuss treatment options with me next week. Of the words I'm sure I'll hear are "Chemo", "radiation therapy", and other words that make your blood turn to ice.

Yes, I know. Let's not jump to worst case scenarios. They don't even know if there's any cancer left inside me yet, that's why they're doing more surgery and checking my lymph nodes. But don't you think they should ascertain that fact BEFORE they send me to the oncologist and get the holy living shit scared out of me? Seems like putting the cart before the horse.

I have two nurses in my family now and both of them think my incision is on the edge of becoming infected, so I'll need to call the dermatologist tomorrow. She'll probably put me on antibiotics, but I'm due to have my stitches out on Monday. Not sure how that's gonna go. When the incision is still red and sensitive, the thought of someone tugging out the stitches willy nilly... not so appealing.

I think I've spent every day since the doctor called me in tears. I'm not a weepy person, at least I don't think I am. But I've cried to mom, to my niece, to both my sisters, I've cried alone in the car. I don't like what this is turning me into. And I feel guilty as well. The last thing my family needs is another person to worry about. I'm the care taker, the caregiver, the person that helps, not the person that needs help. When I have my surgery, who's going to take care of Deni? What if the surgeons get bad news and tell my family before I'm even awake? I have to go grocery shopping tomorrow with my parents. I'm not allowed to lift anything or carry anything heavy. My parents are going to do that, and they're in their 70's. How pathetic is that? I should be taking care of THEM, not the other way around.

To top it all off, work has not only picked up, it's nonstop. I wanted more work, but this is ridiculous, and I've had a constant migraine all week. I get up, work a few hours until my head hurts so bad I want to cry, go back to bed for a few hours, get up later, do more work, go back to bed... wash, rinse, repeat. It's kinda hard to concentrate on work right now when I feel like all my energy is needed on other things. Some people say work can help, getting your mind off things, but right now I just can't concentrate the way I should.

Once I meet with the surgeon next Wednesday I'll either be completely frantic, or I'll feel better after getting some of my questions answered. Let's hope it's the latter.

And thanks again for the love. It's a little thing to comment and say "I'm thinking of you", but damn... it DOES help. It's like getting a virtual hug. And I need those hugs right now. God, do I need them.

No comments:

Post a Comment