I’ve been a HOT mess today. Sobbing every time I turn around. My head is pounding, my eyes are all crusty. I am having trouble dealing today.
When you have to sign a form saying basically we are only treating you to go into remission, not to cure, and that there is a risk of death by chemo….it’s just one more time, another punch to the gut and the wind gets knocked out of you as you realize the seriousness of everything.
I know people live long lives in remission, but it’s also one of those things that our lives will NEVER ever be the same. Every single time something comes up with him, that fear it is cancer is the first place our minds will go. And it’s extremely likely that he will get cancer again after this.
Cancer robs you of everything. Peace, sanity, health, finances, sleep, security. I haven’t been sleeping. I’ve developed GERD, I’m a fucking wreck all the time and I’m just trying to do my best, but fuck. It’s been one thing after another that has completely stolen every shred of any thought I had that life was good and we were going to be okay.
This is what I’ve looked like 95% of today. Yesterday sucked but today was apparently my day to process everything from yesterday. I feel like I’ve definitely been doing ok, like just trying to feel what I feel and move on, gotta walk through it can’t go around it, but today was bad.
Sean had his first CT after surgery, he had his port placed that they’ll use to give him chemo so it won’t be an iv in his arm that’ll blow his veins, this way it’ll go straight to his heart to pump through his system faster. Anyway then we had chemo class in the afternoon. That was overwhelming to say the least. Then you get a stack of papers that list the most common side effects of each of the chemo drugs he’ll be getting. Then they tell you don’t worry there are grants and programs to help you pay for all this but we’ll get to that later. Then they take you on a tour of the chemo treatment room where there’s just dozens of chairs with all the medical equipment lined up and patients receiving their treatment and they tell you to bring a blanket or your tablet or a book because you’ll spend hours and hours there each time you have to get treatment.
I didn’t have time to process any of this yesterday. But boy did it hit me today. Also I am pretty certain I’ve got some PTSD from caring for his mom at the end of her life from cancer. Because when people tell me “he’ll be ok, he’s gonna beat this” I just want to scream nothing is ever going to be ok again! I know how this ends. I know what this looks like when it comes for him again and again. I am just not ok today.