Sorry for the hardcore curse words but I am really fricking frustrated.
Right now I am in bed with Sam. She will not go to sleep. She is being unbelievably cute thus making it hard to be frustrated with her. However, I am finding myself frustrated over everything. Or as I defined it last blog: I am completely and utterly frustressed.
Cleaning house:
So I finally found a book I am totally into. It's called the The Life-Changing method of Tidying Up. Within the first few pages I learned why I am a sucky cleaner and organizer. It was like the book was personally written for me. Anyway, ever since I got my cancer diagnosis I have had such an unbearable urge to purge things in my life. I will admit it. I originally wanted to purge because I was terrified of dying and leaving so much crap for my family to deal with. And trust me, I have so much crap! Now I just feel that I am stuck home sick and the mess and the clutter swallowed me up. I don't get out much so I need the place I live in to be comfortable and relaxing and it's not. So back to the book. I immediately jumped in headfirst. I took notes I followed the rules of tidying up verbatim and even though it was emotionally trying, I felt good and it felt right. So why am I mentioning this? Because life with an illness, a baby, and a family suck up every little bit of time and energy I have. Even though I wanted to, I couldn't even finish the first stage of the tidying process. I feel like I am always falling behind, be it keeping up with friends, attempting a better diet, getting enough rest, or on some days just taking a shower. I figure this is something relatable to all of you. Well for some the cancer part might not be an issue, but for some it is,and I truly wish it wasn't.
Yesterday was chemo:
Last week I was sent home with none because I had a crappy cold and some killer laryngitis. On top of this I have had increasing abdominal pain over the last few months. This happened to me towards the end of the first 12 treatments but it wasn't as severe and it eventually faded. My belly hurts when I get out of bed, roll over, laugh, cough. Basically any time I move. I can deal with pain but I cannot deal with not having answers. And I truly don't want to think that it's spreading. I want to believe it's adhesions or lack of exercise or a hernia. I want to. But there is always that thought. Every little ache and pain whispers "it's spreading " to your anxiety-filled brain. Pure evil. And how do you stop it? Distractions are all fine and dandy, but when there is downtime, they come back. They always come back.
Fast forward:
I'm sick again. But this time they still let me get chemo. Basically I sucked it up because I don't want to have to postpone my testing. My abdominal pain has gotten worse over the last few weeks. And I have caught yet another cold that my family has been sharing. I'm getting no answers about my pain and next Monday's CT scan seems to be the only chance I will have for them to find something. I get that they can't give me any answers right now but sometimes I feel like I'm the only one trying to guess at possible sources of the pain (i.e. Surgical adhesions, a hernia, my ovaries growing back! Apparently in rare instances they can do that and if you know anything about me, I would be the freak this would happen to). My nurse practitioner and my mother also pointed out that most cancer patients aren't lugging 20 pound babies around all day long. And granted I have a lot of help, but I know they're right. There is this constant struggle between what my body can physically handle and what my mommy instinct can bear. It sucks.
I'm angry today.
I'm coughing up balls of mucus.
My abdomen is shot.
And I'm supposed to be sleeping, but I can't.
I'm trying to find the silver lining but I'm looking around my room at piles and piles of crap and it's stressing me out. I'm failing at the life-changing art of tidying up and I know people are constantly offering to help but I want to do it. And I can't.
Ggrrrr.
I need a fairy tale ending, quickly!:
I do not like the tone of this post at all. I know I need to vent but I like to end with at least one positive message or pearl of wisdom and I'm struggling.
You know what? Maybe this is my pearl of wisdom. Simply put, some days just truly suck. I think I've had a pretty long string of them lately and I'd like for them to stop now. Yes, that's it. Some days just suck. And you don't even need to have cancer to relate to that!
You're welcome, young grasshopper.
Dr. Phil ain't got shit on me.
Calgon, take me away....
Right now I am in bed with Sam. She will not go to sleep. She is being unbelievably cute thus making it hard to be frustrated with her. However, I am finding myself frustrated over everything. Or as I defined it last blog: I am completely and utterly frustressed.
Cleaning house:
So I finally found a book I am totally into. It's called the The Life-Changing method of Tidying Up. Within the first few pages I learned why I am a sucky cleaner and organizer. It was like the book was personally written for me. Anyway, ever since I got my cancer diagnosis I have had such an unbearable urge to purge things in my life. I will admit it. I originally wanted to purge because I was terrified of dying and leaving so much crap for my family to deal with. And trust me, I have so much crap! Now I just feel that I am stuck home sick and the mess and the clutter swallowed me up. I don't get out much so I need the place I live in to be comfortable and relaxing and it's not. So back to the book. I immediately jumped in headfirst. I took notes I followed the rules of tidying up verbatim and even though it was emotionally trying, I felt good and it felt right. So why am I mentioning this? Because life with an illness, a baby, and a family suck up every little bit of time and energy I have. Even though I wanted to, I couldn't even finish the first stage of the tidying process. I feel like I am always falling behind, be it keeping up with friends, attempting a better diet, getting enough rest, or on some days just taking a shower. I figure this is something relatable to all of you. Well for some the cancer part might not be an issue, but for some it is,and I truly wish it wasn't.
Yesterday was chemo:
Last week I was sent home with none because I had a crappy cold and some killer laryngitis. On top of this I have had increasing abdominal pain over the last few months. This happened to me towards the end of the first 12 treatments but it wasn't as severe and it eventually faded. My belly hurts when I get out of bed, roll over, laugh, cough. Basically any time I move. I can deal with pain but I cannot deal with not having answers. And I truly don't want to think that it's spreading. I want to believe it's adhesions or lack of exercise or a hernia. I want to. But there is always that thought. Every little ache and pain whispers "it's spreading " to your anxiety-filled brain. Pure evil. And how do you stop it? Distractions are all fine and dandy, but when there is downtime, they come back. They always come back.
Fast forward:
I'm sick again. But this time they still let me get chemo. Basically I sucked it up because I don't want to have to postpone my testing. My abdominal pain has gotten worse over the last few weeks. And I have caught yet another cold that my family has been sharing. I'm getting no answers about my pain and next Monday's CT scan seems to be the only chance I will have for them to find something. I get that they can't give me any answers right now but sometimes I feel like I'm the only one trying to guess at possible sources of the pain (i.e. Surgical adhesions, a hernia, my ovaries growing back! Apparently in rare instances they can do that and if you know anything about me, I would be the freak this would happen to). My nurse practitioner and my mother also pointed out that most cancer patients aren't lugging 20 pound babies around all day long. And granted I have a lot of help, but I know they're right. There is this constant struggle between what my body can physically handle and what my mommy instinct can bear. It sucks.
I'm angry today.
I'm coughing up balls of mucus.
My abdomen is shot.
And I'm supposed to be sleeping, but I can't.
I'm trying to find the silver lining but I'm looking around my room at piles and piles of crap and it's stressing me out. I'm failing at the life-changing art of tidying up and I know people are constantly offering to help but I want to do it. And I can't.
Ggrrrr.
I need a fairy tale ending, quickly!:
I do not like the tone of this post at all. I know I need to vent but I like to end with at least one positive message or pearl of wisdom and I'm struggling.
You know what? Maybe this is my pearl of wisdom. Simply put, some days just truly suck. I think I've had a pretty long string of them lately and I'd like for them to stop now. Yes, that's it. Some days just suck. And you don't even need to have cancer to relate to that!
You're welcome, young grasshopper.
Dr. Phil ain't got shit on me.
Calgon, take me away....