Please forgive any errors; I don't feel well enough to read through and proofread this:
On this date 11 years ago is the day I got the news. I don't really have anything profound to say about it. There was shock, disbelief, all the stages of grief. The median life span for a metastatic breast cancer patient is approximately three years. I've lived with it for 11 so far. I have met wonderful people, some of whom have died. I'm one of the "lucky" ones, still on my first line treatment. I remember one wonderful woman -- we chatted in the facebook suport groups, and finally met in person on summer on a trip sponsored by Leslie's Week to Gatlinberg, Tennessee. It was so very nice meeting her in person. All of our symptoms were the same, but she was already on her 14th line treatment. She died the following year. Why did none of the treatments work for her like they did for me? Why did she die and I haven't yet? Survivor's guilt is very real, my friends.

Also today I have been out of work sick for four days, and tomorrow isn't looking so great. I feel guilty for that, too. I have officially run out of my front-loaded sick leave and am eating into my personal leave. I need to be very careful for the rest of the school year. Additionally, I am really worried about what the higher-ups think about all of my time off. Even though I have FMLA, apparently if someone in HR decides that I've taken too much time, I can be either fired or relocated. But what's the criteria? What's the line? How many hours? How many days? I'm frankly scared to ask. I just want to get back to work and stay in my lane. Teach my kids and help my co-workers.
Today is Wednesday. This past Thursday night I had a really rough night, so could not go into work on Friday. I was able to make it to treatment on Saturday and it was a bit rough; over the next few days that morphed into a really bad cold (I think it's a cold anyway). I've been in bed sleeping all week. Today I felt a bit more human but am still getting dizzy when I stand up. Cue a few hours ago and I feel even worse! This brings to mind something that happened while I was undergoing the harsh chemo. "Is this what it feels like to die?" I felt so bad today that that thought crossed my mind again. When it happened 11 years ago, I recalled sitting at my sister's bedside for 9 days as she lay dying (cervical cancer) and wondered if that's what she felt like. A few weeks ago, I was having a conversation with someone who had the same thought in the aftermath of her fourth chemo. So, I told her my story and we commisserated; I let her know that it's normal and that she's not alone. I really don't know what the point of this is, but I needed to get it down and out. How am I typing, you ask, when I feel so horrible? Sometimes it's necessary to push through and get things done even if you don't feel like it. I'm going to try to do that in the morning when I wake up and try to get to work; we'll see. Oh, and the fact that I can type with my eyes closed helps a bunch. 😉
So here's a big one. My husband has Parkinson's, and it has progressed. You know what, that can be a whole 'nother post on it's own. I think the NyQuil is finally working. Goodnight, my friends.
Comments
Post a Comment