Thanks to all who follow the blog. It's mostly just a re-hash of what I put on Facebook, but I never think to check the comments section. I seriously JUST read the comments and want to say thanks to everyone who leaves any at all. It is nice to know I've got a cheering section.
Keeping a sense of humor is not always easy- but I think it's a.b.s.o.l.u.t.e.l.y. necessary. When the inside gets dark- keeping it light on the outside seems to seep inward. Sometimes it gets VERY dark... and to tell the truth, I want to beat this and will if it's possible, but in all reality (I can say this here because I have no relatives following this blog) the outlook isn't so great. Survival rates for the few who have been followed- suck. This is stage four cancer, not two or three. And this cancer is so rare that drug companies don't do any drug testing or research for it because it's not cost effective. This is not a popular cancer so it's abandoned and treated like a general colon cancer in the hopes that it does the trick.
I'm an optimist.... but I'm no dummy. The odds are stacked against me. I used to picture having grandchildren or touring Europe after my girls have gone to college. That is all faded. I try to live for the now. I soak up every silly thing Iris says or does, I cherish every smile I get out of Vera, I am only a little iritated when I have to get up with one or the other in the middle of the night, I stand in the doorways of their rooms and want to bawl because I am so afraid that I will be nothing but pictures in an album to them because they won't remember me. I'm afraid that they will simply refer to me as "Rachel" because they can't recall calling me "Mommy."
Iris has a hard time grasping what's going on. She knows there is something amiss, and knows that I go to the doctor a lot and that the hospital is where mommy gets better. May was bad, she and Vera were both shuffled around as I was stuck in a friggin' hospital bed- totally at the mercy of fate. Now Iris gets seperation anxiety before I leave her even just for an hour or so. I tell her "Mommy always comes back" so she knows I'm not leaving her forever. And hopefully when the day comes that I do leave her forever, she'll be old enough to understand. I know I'm not dying from cancer tomorrow or even in 6 months, but Father Time has me in a stranglehold. I've got an overwhelming sense of urgency to get my affairs in order, to get into a "real house" ASAP (I've been wanting to move for over a year) and to make sure those around me know my wishes. There is so much I want to do and see before leaving and there just aren't enough resources to do them, and even if I had the resources to do those things- would I? It is a wicked trade-off to go do something greedy when I could be spending that precious time with my daughters.
I guess I've got a lot of guilt. (yes, I do go to counseling) My sister tells me to let it go- but she's not a mom. I feel guilty because I've put everyone on edge, possibly making my 3 year old nuerotic because she's SO concerned ANY time she hears of someone being sick, I've had to shuffle my girls off NUMEROUS times to get treatment, to recover from treatment, to just sleep and so on, I've imposed on others to watch the girls, those other people in the meantime are sick with worry about me and it goes on and on.
What a mess.
I guess with the Comedy comes the Tragedy. It happens. Now I'm good for a few days. Thanks for "listening."