There's something about being physically vulnerable that makes me lose it emotionally. Tonight I walked out of the gym and the tears started flowing before I even made it to my car. I am exhausted physically and at the point where I'm so sick of having an excuse as to why I can't do things or why I can't do things as well as I want to do them.
I was sitting in the waiting room yesterday waiting for my turn to get my body radiated. This lady who I'm sitting with starts to tell me about how radiation is the highlight of her day. She said that she loves to be handled by those two hotties (referring to the radiation techs). So I go into the radiation room, I lay down on the table and think to myself, "who in their right mind enjoys this crap?" Okay... so this lady did disclose that she hasn't been touched by a man in over 15 years, so maybe she is a little out of her mind... I mean I did just meet her for the first time and she's sharing all this way too personal information. I just chuckled and nodded my head and then bolted out of the waiting room as soon as I got a chance.
Radiation is extremely uncomfortable for me. I am a modest person by nature and laying there on a table with my one real breast exposed and my one fake mound that protrudes from my body in a freakishly bizarre way is not my idea of a good time. The techs have to lay a bolus over my fake mound. A bolus is a material which has properties that are similar to tissue and when laid over the skin it increases the dose of radiation administered to the skin. So they lay this thing over my fake mound and then have to smooth it out to make sure there are no air bubbles. It is so far from enjoyable. I'm starting to get used to it though. Today was number 7. Only 23 more to go.
Anyhow, I was explaining earlier about walking out of the gym and immediately crying. Today I am angry. Today is the 28th day of March. I have been in Ventura for 11 months. I have been a cancer patient for 11 months and I am still not finished with my treatment. I hate this. Today I am angry that I have to deal with this. I am sick and tired of looking like crap. My hair is still barely coming in. I now have to draw on eyebrows for the first time in my life. My body is weak and can't do what I want it to. I am angry. I hate what cancer has done to me. I hate this fear that every little ache or pain might be cancer. I hate that when I meet people and they see cancer written all over me through my missing eyebrows and the new hair coming in on my head that all they want to talk about is everyone they know who has or had cancer. I hate that cancer is what people see when they see me. I AM NOT CANCER. I am angry because I can yell about not wanting cancer to consume my life but it has. That's what I do... every day... treat the cancer. I don't really talk about it much until I get on here and find my cathartic release through my blog. People ask how I am and my answer is still fine like life is normal.
My husband started coaching football at the local junior college. It's not even football season and he's at practice 4 days a week in the afternoon after he's finished working. We're buying a house. We are moving out of my parents house into a house of our own and we have no furniture. We have beds and last week I bought a dining table and a dresser from an estate sale. We have no appliances. My kids will be switching to a new school...their third school in the past year. I still have 5 weeks of radiation left. Today I am angry. I left the gym, went home, told my husband to watch the kids, grabbed my computer, drove down to the beach to watch the sunset, turned on Tchaikovsky, and now I'm venting. I'm overwhelmed. I'm exhausted. Today I'm tired of being me.