Relative Acceptance (June 30th, 2011)

I am currently experiencing the darkest mood I have ever encountered. It is a dangerous thing to try to communicate at a time like this, and journaling these moments has felt very off-putting in the past. I realized not long ago, that I have shared most of the more pleasant sides of what I am going through, and well, that's not exactly a true account, now is it?

I fear I am in true despair. I feel very unbalanced. My body is literally toxic right now. My urine could injure someone if it came into contact with skin. It is a hopelessly depressing fact that I am chemically charged right now. Not to mention the radiation. My God. My mouth is starting to get so sore that talking is painful. I am on day 2 of a strickly-liquid diet, as food is impossible to eat. I can take medications to numb my mouth, but they are tragically temporary- long enough to get some calories and protein down the hatch. I have been warned that I must not lose even a pound a week, as I will have a feeding tube inserted in my stomach. Naturally, I am determined in my efforts to stay out of that category. I diligently consume the 2,500 calories and 98 grams of protein recommended by my nutritionist. My nausea is supposed to subside soon, but then I have another chemotherapy cycle to begin in a week and it will all start again. The delicate inner lining of my mouth is peeling and blistering from chemotherapy or radiation, or likely both. The parts of my mouth that don't yet have sores feel sunburned and extremely sensitive, making the 4-5 times a day brushing of the teeth routine very much dreaded. I am experiencing ringing in my ears constantly, water tastes like metal (everything does, really), I'm tired, irritable, menopausal... Everything feels fairly difficult right now. Once I start complaining, I can't stop. So I don't travel this road very often... and rarely out loud.

The worst part of this has to be that in the back of my mind, I question, 'why me?'. I'm a 26 year old female. This type of cancer is an 'old man cancer'. I don't even have the more treatable oral cancer of HPV. I have your average, run of the mill, locally advanced squamous cell carcinoma that 80 year old men get because they have smoked pipes their entire lives. The only probable answer ever given to me was that it was likely caused when I was 7 and accidentally drank a cleaner on the farm. The scar tissue in my mouth and throat could cause abnormal cell development, but why it is so aggressive right now is a mystery. So, scientifically, it is indeed baffling. Spiritually, I can admit that I feel I am on a quest. I have gone very deep within myself to connect with the Universe. I find this part of the journey to be entirely profound. But that is for another day. Right now, I feel I need to address the despair in my heart.

In my 'why me?' moments -of which there are several, daily- I feel a silent envy of others. Anything could trigger it, and it is not always the same things. One day, I may genuinely only feel happiness when I see people having fun -and the next, I feel jealous that my carefree days are replaced with intense reminders of my mortality. I am on an entirely different level than most people. All I think about is living, and being alive. I have not allowed myself to look at too much on facebook these days, as hearing about everyone's summer plans nearly always evokes jealousy. While I would love to report that I am spending time in the sun, going on holidays and attending weddings, or other lovely social functions, I am really hiding from people because my white blood cell count is low, and I'm going to radiation everyday, and I'm too sick to care for my daughter. It's not that I can't be reminded of the joy in the world, but it just hurts too much. And I'm so early in to this journey that I really must protect myself from feeling so badly. It is only going to get worse from here. It's so difficult to imagine, but I see it everyday at the cancer clinic.

The people I have met there are undergoing various forms of treatment, but we are a community. The strength I see in the confines of that space is truly inspiring. It is rather difficult to witness, however. The thing I was the most afraid of when I was on the cusp of this 'battle', was that I was beginning to fade away. I will fade. My light, my spirit, my energy, my physical self, my emotional self- every part of me will fade. And I know I will brighten up eventually (I feel there is no other real possibility), but the thought of fading is frightening.

I have absolutely no energy to give to anyone right now. I am maxed out when I get up and take on my task of drinking water and starting my oral hygiene regime. My family supports me to get further on in my day, and I am so grateful that my daughter has barely noticed so far that everyone has stepped in to be her primary caregivers in my absence. We are a tight, cohesive unit. But it still pains me that I can't just be a normal mom. That I can't kiss her in fear of getting a debilitating cold.

I am just a fading light. Others keep lending me their energy all the time. I should be more grateful, but I feel a very real anger inside of me. One that I must address soon, or I fear I will hit a wall. I go through my day in such a haze, that I feel numb to most of the pain or annoyances I have just described. I am so angry that this is Boudicca's first year of life and I have to deal with missing out on being her Mom so I can take care of my own survival. None of this is fair. I have made my amends, making peace with everyone, and when I find I didn't go deep enough, I start all over again. I appreciate every little thing in this Universe. I have changed. I am becoming my true self. I forfeited most of my tongue 4 months ago, and with it, my self-confidence, ability to speak and communicate effectively. I emerged from that ordeal with a strengthened resolve to overcome my insecurities and find ways to cope. When I finally accepted that fate, I got told the cancer had spread and was impossibly large. I had a major surgery to remove all of the lymph nodes on the left side of my neck, limiting my mobility (among several other things, too numerous to mention). Then I found out that I had stage 4 cancer and would need to quickly begin treatment to save my life. I am as resilient as they come... and I am overwhelmed right now. My life is foreign on the surface. When I think about who I was 4 months ago, it is so incredibly different from who I am today. I am not saying it is all bad, and truthfully, deep down, I know I will be at peace someday again. But right now, with praise to allah... it is really bizarre. Problems that were so significant before have really taken a backseat. When you are reminded how precious life is, you really begin to pay attention to how much you crave living. I am not necessarily afraid of dying personally. But the impact my death would have on my daughter terrifies me to the core. I am not done teaching her (or learning from her). I simply have to be there for her even a little longer. It will take a miracle for me to live another 5 years. My cancer will almost definitely return in that time, I have been warned. Oh, but if it doesn't.... a more grateful person could not exist. I have a shelf life. I've been told of what will happen if the cancer spreads to any of my organs. 9-12 months is the best I could hope for at that point. 6 months if I opt not to get chemotherapy. I am still shaken by my medical oncologist's words.

So when people say, 'you'll be fine... you're strong', I silently cringe. Strength has only a little to do with this outcome. Fate, attitude, trust, faith, etc are all vital. I know I am strong. But there is a very real possibility I may not be fine. Failure to acknowledge this is spawned out of fear, and I realize why people are not comfortable addressing it. I sound judgemental, and I am not trying to be. I may have said the same thing to someone before I went through this.

Well, my incoherent rant is nearing its end. I have exhausted myself emotionally, and must rest. Saturday will be the first full day I will have without seeing my daughter. She leaves tomorrow with my Mom to go to Swift current for the weekend and I must rest up so that I may spend time with her in the morning before she goes. I am almost sick over being without her... Sweet B.

Good night. Namaste.