Wednesday, March 9, 2016

The Roller Coaster

Life has often left me feeling defeated.  Then I remember that I am in control of my life.  I might not be able to control the circumstances of my life but I can control how I handle those circumstances.  

Yesterday was one of those days. I went in for my one week post-op check up after having my ovaries removed.  Some random doctor was filling in for my doctor.  He walked in, sat down, and said, "They found cancer in your ovaries. I'm very sorry".  I responded, "Such is my life".  

Shock set in.  I felt nothing. Then my mind started spinning.  What does this mean?  The fact that my cancer had only metastasized to my bones was what gave me hope for still having a long life. Am I going to die before my children grow up?  I am going to die. What now?  How will they treat this?  Will I have to lose my hair again?  How long do I have?  

I called and left a message for my oncologist.  "Please call me back about the pathology results."  

I went home, climbed into bed, and fought back tears. Trying to be okay for the sake of my children who were sitting on my bedroom floor watching a movie. 

A couple hours passed by and I finally got a call back from my oncologist.  This changes nothing.  What they actually found were just microscopic metastatic breast cancer cells in one ovary. The ovaries looked normal and there were no masses or tumors. Apparently this is very common.  My treatment and prognosis remain the same. He still expects me to live for a very long time.  

I cried from relief. Then I was both physically and emotionally exhausted. The emotional roller coaster, even though only a couple hours long, is traumatic. It left me feeling fragile. It left me feeling alone.  

I woke up this morning feeling heavy hearted...feeling down.  I went to workout with my sisters. I walked in and my sister asked if I was feeling relieved.  My eyes began to fill with tears. I am emotional. My facade has been broken.  The fear left me emotional and vulnerable.  At any moment I might break down.  At any moment the tears might begin to flow.  

Working out helped. Today was a boxing day. I was hitting that bag hard and it felt good.  This shit can't knock me down and keep me down.  

Tonight, after I drop my kids off at their dad's, I will go down to my beach. I will sit and watch the waves and drink a beer.  I will sit there alone and let myself process the roller coaster of emotions.  I will be good.  

1 comment:

  1. You are on a tough journey...unimaginable. My best friend lives in Ventura, and she was diagosed with Glioblastoma Metaforma in June, 2014, with a prognosis of 6 months to 1 year. She's going strong...which is great...but it does change one's sense of mortality. You don't know me, but I wanted to let you know that I do care. Kathy (Oxnard)