Fun day

Presented for your consideration… one tiny dictator who decided to bring his empty bowl into the bedroom to complain that he was being starved.  For the record, he dumped out the dry dog food that was in the bowl onto the floor before running around the house with it.  He then jumped into bed and put the bowl on my tummy.  It seems that he really didn’t like the dog food!  Don is slightly better today, which is a bit of relief.     

I was really tired last night, but woke up for no real reason around 1am; took a while before I went back to sleep.  Today I met up with some of my girlfriends for dim sum.  It’s been over 2 years since we were able to meet for this, as the last time was just before the world shut down with the plague.  It was lovely being able to get together in person and share a meal together.  I am really happy that we’re able to meet; and today we were celebrating my stable results which is a reason we all like.  Stable is good.

There are times when I don’t realize just how much is on my mind or how much I’m juggling, or perhaps I don’t want to admit it.  I had that revelation in the middle of the night when I had a moment of worry about my potential scan results.  When I got the message that things were stable, I felt a huge sense of relief and felt almost light headed.  It happened that I spoke with my social worker and she asked me if that affected my day, and I admitted that it had.  If my results weren’t what they are, I’m not sure how I would have reacted.  After my reaction to chemo, I was worried that things were worsening, and it didn’t help that others shared stories of patients who had died from complications of cancer.  That just caused me some anxiety, although I found ways of coping with it — or at least of suppressing the worst of it.  I worked through the various techniques provided by the therapist for dealing with uncertainty.  I tried triaging my feelings and reactions, and dealt with the things that were in my control, did the “worst possible case” scenario exercise, did my deep breathing, — all of the steps to be able to cope.  I was able to create a veneer of managing, and I could distract myself when things got a little overwhelming.  

I feel a bit frustrated with how things are.  The ongoing ups and downs and the waves of worry that go with everything.  There’s no way to eliminate them completely; the best I can manage is to occupy myself with other things so I don’t have spare energy to worry until it’s the middle of the night and there’s nowhere to go.  You’ll probably tell me that you’re unsurprised that I have this difficulty, and are wondering what’s taken so long to admit to this, but it’s taken me a while to recognize what’s going on.  Yes, I can be slow on the uptake.  I feel like I’m “spinning top in mud” where I get to a comfortable point, where I can focus on living and maximizing my enjoyment of life, then something pops up — a scan, a bad reaction to a drug, illness in someone close to me, a friend going through stress, the death of someone — and then I start feeling non-specific anxiety which then leads to other points of stress and *boom* I’m working my way through the exercises again!  There really isn’t a way to “break” the cycle as I see it.  I’m incurable, although there are still possible treatments, and we’re working to ensure my best possible quality of life.  Can I confess that sometimes I stress about what I’m doing?  I do try to find the best in any situations that I face.  I have done the work on coping with uncertainty, and I’ve done my best to keep in contact with friends and ensure that I have a few layers of support.  There a several people who have offered to help if I need it, and I believe them; I just find it very difficult to ask for assistance.  It’s challenging enough to have a support worker to help me with tasks around the house, and I’m often reluctant to ask her to do things for me, even though she’s great and accommodating.  

Where do we go from here?  If I could set out a perfect world scenario, it would be that my tumours shrink to nothing, confounding my medical team with my complete healing.  My other issues — the metastases to my pelvis and spine; the other things that we’re monitoring — would all vanish and I’d be perfectly healthy again.  I’m sure that my doctors would be thrilled to be confounded.  And what would I do with my newfound health?  I’d return to being involved in volunteering in a few community groups; I’d travel to visit friends and family and I’d do my best to support and encourage people to fulfil their dreams.  Of course, I’d also win a a large lottery jackpot to be able to support my volunteer activities.  And I’d give occasional talks about remaining focussed on the positives in the midst of uncertainty.  I don’t know how good I could be at that, but I think it might be worth trying.

You’ve probably guessed that I’m working on remaining optimistic.  Just because I’m stable doesn’t mean that it’s gone, nor does it mean that treatment is finished, but for the moment I would like to think about the joy of spending a few hours with some beautiful, supportive people who came out to celebrate with me at the drop of a hat.   Please forgive my odd mood; I should be happier, and not wondering what other stuff I have to deal with…   Jerry spent quite some time insisting that he had to go out, TWICE in the space of 2 hours, to sniff every blade of grass and kick up dirt with his back paws instead of anything else.  I’m in a  bit of pain from doing too much tonight, so I’m going to now end this and head in hopefully to get some sleep.  Good night!