Another Day

I am grateful to be alive another day. I hurt today. I felt better yesterday. I had more energy but today my heels hurt and my hands hurt. It is hard to think positive and be optimistic when you hurt. It would be so easy to feel sorry for myself.

I have quite drinking alcohol, I quit smoking, I lost 60 pounds, I survived a crappy childhood and now that I have a wonderful husband, two beautiful children I am diagnosed with cancer. Life sucks.

I have yet to tell a lot of people about the cancer because of the one or two I have told, they act odd now. In one case the person has begun avoiding me and in the other case the person has chosen to be mad at me. I understand both. On the one hand no one wants sick to rub off. I know that sounds silly but it is true. The aura of a sick person can have an affect. On the other hand I understand wanting distace when someone you care about becomes ill. It is survival of the fittest and I am no longer fit so be mad at me so you can go on living and not have fear that it might happen to you. I understand. I am even getting this from my husband. The world is against him because I am sick and if I don’t agree with all his conspiracy theories I am not loyal and he is disappointed in me. I understand. I really do understand.

Alive Another Day

My husband has taken it upon himself to champion my war against cancer. He has removed the microwave, all the pots and pans with Teflon, purchased books about fighting cancer and set his jaw to make sure I fight too.

I will do whatever he tells me. Right now I am taking all the vitamin c in the form of Ascorbic acid my body can handle. Its called to bowel tolerance which means when I get diarrhea I have had enough. I am somewhere between 4 and 5 grams before I make the run to the bathroom to pee out my butt.

We are changing our diets. Much less meat. I am using up we have have as flavoring for bean based meals. Lots of beans. I am buying organic salad and fruit when I can can, eggs and I am a regular at our local health food store. I bring my recycled bags and fill them up once a week. We will make other changes too. I don’t know what but I am sure my husband will let me know.

Day 7

I have been researching words like cancer, cervical cancer, Endocervical Adenocarcinoma. I feel thrust into a new world. When I go back to my school work and figure advanced algebra equations, I have a hard time focusing. When I read philosophy, I read about myself. I read into the theories, how they apply to me and my situation. I am seeing my life pass before my eyes all around me all day long.

 I had to make the decision of whether I was going to throw in the towel and eat red meat, smoke cigarettes and drink brown liquor or look into alternatives lifestyles to cure my cancer. I can’t be so selfish as to do the former. I love my husband, and my two beautiful young sons so I will do the latter. I have over come other troubles I am confident I can over come this as well.

The first day of the rest of my life

Life is funny in a sick freaky, disturbing sort of way. Here I have been asking the big questions about life. What is the meaning of it and why can’t I seem to cope without fear? Questioning the existence of God. And low and behold the answer comes.

I have been diagnosed with cancer. I called my husband to make sure our youngest son had been picked up from school, as I had taken our oldest son to his regular Orthodontist appointment and wouldn’t make it back in time to do both. 

My husband assured me that he had been picked up but I could hear fear in his voice. I know the sound of it and especially in him. He told me the health department had called about my pap and that I needed to call them right away. Of course I knew what it was. This is not my first abnormal pap but it has been years. Before kids and life and dreams and plans for the future. I had forgotten about it. I called. I am lousy with cancer.  Now I begin the round of appointments. I am not looking forward to it. Being the pragmatic person I am I am already planning on how to go out gracefully. My husband is shaken and wants to fight. I will fight. I will put on a brave face and I will do everything I can to be the best mom to my sons during the process.

Both my parents died of cancer, no one should be surprised. My mom died at 57 or 58 and my dad hung on till 75 but it was an ugly 75. I was hoping I would last longer then them. I am going to be 40 in the spring.

Day 6

Discuss and reflect upon the idea that “I have no control when it comes to fear” I don’t agree. I am not powerless or I would just give up. Ya, know I don’t think therapy is going to work. The idealist philosophy is clashing with my own philosophy that is I do have free will and I don’t blame God nor do I give God all the credit. I haven’t figured out he God thing so to answer the question-Discuss and reflect upon the idea that “I have no control when it comes to fear” I will discuss and reflect on the idea that this line of questioning is quickly becoming absurd and if I had no control would I be looking for help through this process? I know the answer from the therapy point of view- you must turn over your idea of control, which you don’t really have anyway, to a higher power. I know this routine, I have been through 12 step programs but for me there is nothing to hand it over to. Give me a question I can use.

Day 5

Discuss and reflect upon the idea that your discipline or lack of it has played an important part in your life.

I resent the question. All this fault finding. Don’t you think I have blamed myself enough? I know that I have created my life for what it is and only I can get myself out of it. Whether I ask for help or turn to a higher power or change my mind or change my life it starts and ends with me. But calling it my “lack of discipline” isn’t helping. Fear (as discussed in my last post) has done a lot for my discipline. When you live in fear it keeps you between the lines. Keeping life between the lines is something. Isn’t it?

Discipline to what end? to conform? To play nice with the other children? To fit what others believe is the ‘right’ way?

I have tried all my life to fit and I now have a family where I fit perfectly. It’s the rest of the world that has me afraid and confused. I don’t understand the world I live in. I don’t seem to know the rules to success. Are there rules? I wish I knew them, but I am afraid I wouldn’t want to play by some of them so I would be right where I am today, but at least I would know why.

Day 4

Discuss and reflect upon the effect this emotion has had upon you over the years. Are you kidding me? The effect of fear? It is my primary emotion. It is how I have preserved myself alive these past 39 years. I am afraid of drugs therefore I never did any serious drugs and managed to escape drug addiction,(with the exception of the innocent alcohol and food habits I have . Alcohol is a lousy coping mechanism for fear. I tried it. I had my first blackout at 10 years old and it never helped my fear. Food has only contributed to physical ailments including an extra 15 to 20 pounds of unwanted weight.

Fear has taught me to keep my head down. I am not the one who will speak up if I think I will get knocked back down. I prefer to seethe with revenge and talk about how someone is wrong but I end up doing little if nothing.

I did recently speak up regarding the issue of racism. I was at a party over the holidays where reference was made that a certain race is known to have bitchy older women. What race doesn’t I asked. I let it be known that I thought the statement was racist and that every race has bitchy old ladies and everyone conquered with my statement. I felt safe in this crowd and I felt confident in my belief so I was able to speak up.

Fear has taught me to brown nose when necessary. I can see the hammer coming a mile a way and I have leaned to protect myself from being under said hammer when it falls. I have had to draw the line in this regard. When the hammer is being wielded by scum I just can’t suck up anymore. I do have some core principles that I can not deny. When I am confronted with scum in the form of a bad boss and cheater, a liar a whatever kind of scum you can imagine, even if I am going to lose I will do the right thing. It hasn’t gotten me further along other than I am glad I don’t have to tolerate scum in my life. I can be grateful for that.

I am afraid of…being lied to. I hate being lied to and I keep finding that I have been lied to over and over again. The older I get the bigger the lies I keep uncovering. This is very disappointing. Ignorance is bliss sometimes. Life was easier with Santa and the Easter bunny. More and more I discover I am alone and that too is scary. There is no Santa, no Easter bunny and  for today there is no God. I wish I could believe. I want to believe. I want blind faith, but it doesn’t come to me. I can’t close my eyes and accept words in books. I feel so different than what I have been taught and so I get confused and this confusion causes fear. I am afraid because I am confused.

Day 3

I have all these questions I am supposed to answer to get right with my higher power, which as of 6:03pm EST I have yet to be intrduced to so, my question is to write about my first vivid meory of emotion. I remember it well. The emotion was fear.

On the side of the house there was a ladder. I climbed the ladder and was playing around and fell off. It knocked the wind out of me and maybe even knocked me out but whatever it did when I came to I remember thinking I better be all right, put the ladder back against the house and hope my mom didn’t hear or I am in trouble for playing on that ladder. I was 4.

No, I did not have a loving relationship with my mother. I was her last child and could have juggled knives if I had wanted to. As long as I didn’t get hurt or in trouble I could do pretty much anything I wanted to as long as it didn’t disturb her.  Mom wa a hypocondriac and she prefered to keep the attention on her ailments. She would be the person who was sure to bring up their latestsurgury in the check out line at the local grocery store and if you didn’t listen you were being rude.

So, my first vivid memory of emotion is fear. What do I do with this?

Day 2

I don’t think it has anything to do with what I did yesterday. In fact I don’t think it’s anything I did period. I think I have been lied to since forever and it just isn’t making sense anymore and I am struggling to not want to rip my skin clean off and confess that I just can’t believe the lies we are told anymore. I just can’t beleive that its all my fault. I am not wrong. I have certainly made my share of mistakes, but I am not wrong. I am… I am. I don’t even think and therefore I am, I just am. How can I confess that? How can I take a moral inventory of that? How can I supress, deny, abstain or sober up from that? I am tired, but I am not sorry I am. I am tired of being told I should be ashamed and I should make amends. I am tired of being told anything. Yes, I have a lot to learn but can I at least ask a question? Can I get the answer to a question that I want to ask instead of being told everyting I am supposed to know, that I am supposed to feel? Can I ask…why have I been lied to?