This post is a tribute to my Gus puppy. Today is his birthday. This day last year we discovered that he didn't have diabetes like I had thought. No, he had an aggressive cancer that was ravaging his body. My beautiful, loyal, goofy, wonderful soul pup was very sick and there was nothing I could do about it.
Last years memories of the holiday festivities are weighing heavy on my heart. My emotional state being a mix of feeling like someone has scrubbed everything on an old-fashioned washboard, and wrung me out; combined with the frantic frenzy of "I'M FINE, IT'S FINE"
Turning back time is something we can do in writing. Let's hop in a time machine and look at December 23, 2019...
Life this year has been a ride - water rapids on a rollercoaster through fire sort of ride. At first it seemed like there were too many people on the boat. You can't quite remember who all is there and what they do but they are all super important. Onco, breast surgeon, radiation onco, nurses, chemo, gynecologist... They feel like buoys to help keep the boat balanced and safe.
I have had a swack of appointments in the last couple of weeks along with a very exciting - yet nerve wracking - surprise phone call.
I do NOT have time for this. I am raising small children, working, being a (good?) wife, and living life. I need to organize, schedule, clean, cook, drive, manage, pay bills, and do all the things every. single. day. I don't have time for cancer! You know what? CANCER DOESN'T CARE
All of this process has me thinking of so many things. It's so challenging to be real and truthful about the entire journey because a large chunk of what makes me, me, is just the 'getting it done-ness'. Things need doing? I do them. People need help? I help them. Someone needs support or a listening ear? I am that person... It is so challenging to now feel inadequate and weak and to accept help from family and friends as a "doer".
What I think many people and providers forget is the impact that the diagnosis, treatment and procedures have on my little people. Em is 6 and D is 3.
It comes in waves. The loathing, disgust, and desperation for what was. This absolutely was the best decision - to have a double mastectomy - for a number of reasons for me. BUT. That doesn't mean it's not hard mentally and emotionally.