we are all grieving.

you sent a lot of messages and notes of support following my admission of fog. what was so beautiful about them was what you communicated: we are all human. cancer is one type of scar, but there are oodles of others that you are wearing, hiding, healing from, going through. and will continue going through because like you said, you just don’t stop even if the outside world feels as though “it’s time.”  unemployment, job satisfaction, death, fertility, chronic illness and chronic health conditions, eating issues, addiction, divorce, and family relationships. you’ve given me a tiny snapshot of what you are all going through and that’s only a handful of you. 

shit. 

and i agree, i don’t know what it’s like to be you, just as you don’t know what it’s like to be me. but i can appreciate that it’s difficult for you, and you can appreciate that it’s difficult for me. and the both of us can see the common threads of the human condition are there, in the beautifully messy tapestry that is our lives. 

during the worst of chemo this winter, mike and i blew through the tv series parenthood. in one season, the patriarch gets schooled in being more respectful to his wife and with therapy, works on trying to communicate to her: “i hear you, i see you.”  it’s become our code for just what it is. and for you all too, “i hear you, i see you.” and i know you hear and see me too. 

i know support is done out of love and wanting me to actually be better and to actually be back (well, at least i hope it is). and like one person who responded, i think you all will play a significant role in helping pull me through, fake it until i make it, do the best i can with what i have. and one day, i’ll wake up and the genuine feelings, the feelings of me, will be there. 

the pet/ct on friday was ok. i did pass out shortly after receiving the IV (vaso-vagal response won that time), but it was likely because i had to fast for 6 hours and my blood sugar was 70. mike wasn’t particularly thrilled with my hangry, exhausted inability to make decisions afterwards, but we all survived. the crazy warm pee-pants sensation from the dye was still the same during the test, and i walked around the city in a radioactive state for a few hours afterwards, with advice to not be near or holding small children. will let you know the results when i know them.

xom

This entry was posted in The story. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s