September 4th — I’m falling apart. Each round gets worse and worse. My back ached on and off all night prompting me to ask Greg this morning if I had a fever. My insides feel like they are turning to mush as the poison burns through me. My eyes burn, my intestines burn, my mucus membranes burn. My infusion nurse read some of my blog and was surprised by my shocking honesty at revealing my emotional and physical states. Hello, I’m Amy, have we met? So, I pull myself together, take some drugs, take a shower and get on with it. I don’t have time to fall apart. If I have to hold myself together with spit and gristle, I’ll do it. Yesterday’s chemo buddy Janet brought me an article from Psychology Today about the resiliency of cancer survivors. How the mental and physical challenges create an emotional hardiness that lasts throughout the rest of their lives. But that this growth isn’t usually seen until after the chemo is through because when you’re in the middle of a war, each minute is just survival. I’m in the heart of the battle and all I see is blood around me.
Wow, how scary….Good luck with it…. I think the scariest thing about your post is the phrase “5 of 12″. Somehow, I have the feeling that that the next 7 won’t exactly be a walk in the park….
Isn’t that the truth! I’m sending you prayers of strength and peace along with my love.
Hey Amy – I think of you a lot and pray for your strenth. I’m constantly amazed at how you push through it all and am learning so much from you in the process.
I’m so sorry you have to suffer like this! We are prayiing for your escape from cancer!
Praying for you tonight… Robin
I think of you often and am so grateful you think of your children in this fight of yours. I don’t think I ever had the chance to tell you that I was 30 when my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer……way back in 1979. Christina was a year old and I was pregnant with Kassie. It never occurred to me that she wouldn’t fight …….. but she didn’t. She couldn’t stand the chemo, and couldn’t drive by the hospital without being sick. She was 54 when diagnosed and actually lived to 63. Every other year the cancer had spread to a new place. Finally, as I was giving her last bath and making promises to her about taking care of my much younger sister…… I found that I was so sad because we didn’t really have to be in this place. If only she had FOUGHT for herself and for us. To this day, at 61, I miss her terribly and want her with me. I feel cheated and let down….though I can’t blame her. I JUST WANTED HER TO FIGHT TO BE WITH US. Thank you for fighting to be with your children. It doesn’t matter how old you are… you always want your mother with you.
Fondly,
Susan Young
Susan, I really appreciated your meaningful comment about your mom and her lack of fight in facing her cancer. I am grateful I have my children because without them, I’m not sure I could find the strength to battle this. I have said to many people, and I truly believe it, this is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. The emotional, mental and physical battles are brutal. I stand on the shoulders of the women who have come before me and made my drug treatments and the side effect treatments possible, and on the days I barely stand, I’m held by the wonderful support of my friends and family around me. Hugs to you, Susan. Next time I’m at Meridith’s, I’m going to walk down and give you a big hug.
Hang in there, Amy! Your kids *DO* need you, and they (and the rest of us) will be grateful that you fought back.