Thursday, October 10, 2013

Low

 

 

Sunday was a very rough day. I woke up feeling incredibly fragile and completely overwhelmed with the enormity of having cancer.

That seems strange doesn't it...feeling that way after the worst of the treatment is over.

I grieved the loss of my right breast and the future loss of the left. Not just for myself, but for my husband. He loved my boobs and always had his hands on them but can't bring himself to touch my reconstructed breast. It doesn't feel real or nice to either of us, just plastic, hard and unrelenting to the touch. Perhaps in time we'll adjust to my reconstructed self as the implants settle into my body...I hope so, I miss his hands on that part of me.

I felt so angry and resentful that the Tamoxifen has caused such rapid weight gain. At 72kgs, I've never been so heavy or uncomfortable with my weight before and despite a healthy diet and exercise I'm getting bigger. I feel trapped between not taking Tamoxifen (therefore increasing the risk of cancer returning), and taking it for the next ten years with the constant battle of keeping obesity at bay. A self pitying voice kept whining in my head that I'd been through so much already without this insult to injury. Losing so much of my feminity already not enough for you Universe...sure...smack down what's left why don't you!!!

I didn't want to go out in public because I loathed the way I looked with such short hair. It felt like it was going to take a tortuously long time for my hair to grow to the length I'm comfortable with. I just wanted to look and feel like myself again, instead of looking like a cancer patient...or a truckie.

I was in such low spirits that the insidious fear of cancer showing up elsewhere in my body made me feel panicky and anxious. Most of the time I forget, or choose not to think, about the fact that cancer could come back in more treacherous forms, and next time I might not be so lucky. On Sunday the thought of leaving my boys behind was suffocating.

And on top of all that I was exhausted. So physically and emotionally spent that I went to bed just after lunch and didn't wake up until 5pm.

 

I really struggled with all those monstrous feelings on Sunday because I KNOW just how lucky I am. I am grateful that we've caught the cancer early and I have a pretty positive prognosis. I am grateful for a good medical team, the support and encouragement of family & friends and the immense kindness of strangers. I feel so lucky...I have a husband who loves me and two beautiful little boys to nurture. I am recovering well and have so much to live for. All the annoyances and challenges that lie ahead can be dealt with, if I face it with a kickass attitude. Don't let the bastards get me down right!

I'm fine now. Monday dawned bright, the weight of those emotions lifted and its been a wonderful week. My beautiful boys have made my heart sing.

I have loved watching them play together with their Daddy's old matchbox cars and a makeshift ramp on the back deck.

 

 
 
 
 
 

 

Loved listening to their infectious giggles as they bounced like lunatics on the trampoline and raced bikes up and down the path. And I loved watching them sitting on the back step together after dinner, eating their frozen yoghurt pops for dessert.

 

 
 
 
 
 

 

I guess there are bound to be days when it all feels too much. I'm just glad that that those days are few and far between.



 

 

11 comments:

  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  2. Words, where are they for comfort from over here? I wish I could do something to help. The fact that you have this outlet to be raw I think is great therapy. I see photos of you and I just think to myself - pure beauty right there people. I can't say I am in your shoes, but as a woman I totally get it on many levels. So hard enough as is, top it off with the "c" word. Virtual hugs, and high fives for kicking this things ass!

    .:Marta:.

    p.s I deleted the comment above, I was signed into a different email account that left my "m-train" nickname - my apologies!

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    1. Thanks Lovely...as ever, your encouragement and sense of humour boost my morale. xxx

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  3. I can't say I completely understand because I don't suffer from your same affliction. But when I was 36 I was diagnosed with a rare neurological birth defect that had gone undiagnosed until then. My condition is incurable, it's just a game of trying to manage the symptoms which included brain surgery. I completely understand that everything you thought you knew about your life is now gone, in its place some strange new 'reality' where everything feels different. There's this odd sense that you should be relieved but it's too soon to feel anything except confused and broken. I can offer no words to ease your pain but know that my heart grieves for you because having 'normal' so brutally stripped away is difficult. I am sending you tons of warm fuzzies and lots of pixie dust. Hopefully you'll adjust to your new normal quickly. Thank you for sharing this, sometimes it helps to feel not so alone. <3

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    1. Thank you so much Shalunya, I'm sending tons of warm fuzzies and pixie dust back to you. xxx

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  4. Your post is so honest and transparent. I admire your courage. I happened to find this post. Family is indeed a greate encouragement and a reason to go on. A very expression of what loves looks like and a beacon to shed light in darkness. I will keep you in my prayers. Blessings and healing.

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  5. Oh Em, how hard days like that must be - I can only imagine. You are so open and transparent with us all and I get the feeling that because of this, because of your willingness to face your feelings head on, that you beautiful Em, will move forward. You may not be the same Em you were before this happened but in actual fact you will be an even better one, because you my cyber friend have kicked cancer to the curb and have refused to let go of your love of family and life. I honour you today because most of us will never know just how hard it really has been. Gaye xx

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  6. I don't know what to write because I can't truly emphathise - I'm so lucky to have not been affected by cancer and luckily, so far, nor has anybody who is very close to me. All I can say Em is that you're an inspiring woman and I admire your tenacity and determination. I'm angry for you that cancer has stolen what you consider to be 'feminine', and I know that I would wholeheartedly feel the same way too. Nothing would knock my confidence as much but truly, I haven't met you but reading your blog and reading what you write about your husband and your boys and conquering the world one month at a time is the strongest, most feminine, most womanly thing I can think of. There are things my mum hates about herself that I truly love because it is my mother and I honestly love and admire every inch of her, whether she is comfortable with herself or not. I admire you too Em - I don't think your any less feminine or womanly or powerful than any other woman.

    Flora
    |Two With Seven Blog|

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