I have been mulling over this entry for a few days. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say, or if I wanted to say it.
I feel like a prisoner.
A psychological prisoner.
My psyche is dependent on the warden.
LEt me explain;
The warden is my Doctor(s), and I feel that my psychological wellbeing is dependent on news they give me. If it's good news, I feel more hopeful, more happy, more optimistic. If it's not so great news I feel less of all of those, and more like a prisoner. A prisoner of them, and of this cancer.
My Doc down here felt my tummy the other day and said it was his opinion that the "mass" in my abdomen was a bit bigger. Well, I took it hard. That day I spent all day in my room. I read, rested, read, and watched T.V.
That night I didn't sleep well at all. I tossed and turned and my back muscles started hurting really bad. From around my right shoulder blade all the way up to my neck was screaming. Then I got a headache. During the next day it got worse. Pain meds didn't really help a lot. Then the nurse rubbed some stuff on my back like icy hot, and gave me a tylenol. At about 10pm he came in and gave me something he said would help me sleep and was for pain too. At midnight I was still awake.
But let me back up here a moment to the morning...I was feeling so lousy about what the Doctor had told me, I was weepy and in total honesty, I thought maybe it's time to give up my fight so that my dear, sweet son can go on with his life. He can stop having to feel worried and afraid every day about when his mom might die. He could just grieve and move forward.
I confessed these feelings to my husband and my mom and cried a little. Then my headache grew because I really had a lot more crying to do, but I hold back here because there are always people knocking on my door. I don't want them to walk in on my weak self crying.
I spent a little time outside and it didn't do much to help my psyche.
Anyway, I will still awake at midnight. Then at some point fell asleep for a few hours at a time, till I finally made it through the night.
Awake at 6 a.m. My back is a little better, but my whole neck hurts! Just so much tension I think.
Maybe this week I will start to find my old "strong" self as I look forward to coming home soon and holding my kids, and crawling into my own bed. Seeing my mom and getting a nice, strong, loving hug from her. Unfortunately I will still have a week before seeing my John as he will have left for work already.
I have plans to follow up with my oncologist when I get home to request a PET scan to determine exactly what is going on with this "mass" in my abdomen. I also have plans to follow up with my naturopathic doc to come up with a maintenance plan. And I will still have 6 months worth of "my" vaccine to take.
Today I will look forward with more strength and try not to feel like such a prisoner. A prisoner with a life sentence. If I think about it, that's how my son could feel too. Not that he knows what a prisoner with a life sentence is, but he probably feels trapped in his fear with no way out. It's like a life sentence, without hope of parole. I know it doesn't have to be, or feel that way. My faith can make me stronger. Faith can help my family and my son get through this, moving forward every day...with or without me.
Today I pray for all who feel the way I do, that they might find their "parole" and be released from feeling like a prisoner.