Each time I get thoroughly distracted, so distracted that all I can do is focus on the moment, I call that a win. That is one minute that I am not thinking about cancer, or surgery, or what the protocols are for when you are 'supposed' to tell someone (when you first meet? After you share a bonding moment? A week later?) that you're living with cancer, or if I can talk about it as freely as I want or if I'll give my kids complex.
Every moment is a success. Sometimes, after several moments in a row, I think, "Wow, I didn't think about cancer for 3 minutes and 45 seconds", because that's how long a song I was singing at the top of my lungs ran. Or, "I didn't think about cancer for 2 hours in a row," because I had a steady stream of lovely customers wanting henna.
Oh henna, you are a great friend- everything disappears when that line lands on skin and turns into something beautiful. I want my body henna'd, my chest and neck especially, and I am too afraid to ask my friends which I know is perfectly silly. I can't help it. I'm not ready to need anyone yet, and maybe having cancer is a lesson in needing others, but I feel like I get so much, any more is 'too much' and that I'll owe, and owe, and owe.
My sweet friend gave me a spa in a box with some gorgeous botanicals with which to scrub and cleanse and moisturize and nurture my body. I stare at them feeling guilty for the money she spent, all the while chastising myself for being SO ridiculous. I know it's ridiculous. I need to give myself permission to have those ridiculous thoughts, but just turn them WAY down.
I don't want to feel so guilty receiving that I don't let myself get cared for as I go through this. I want to let the lesson that I should ask for what I need, claim it, to arrive and land as easily as possible but it's one of the hardest lessons I've ever faced, I'm sure of it.
So what do I need right now?
- I need time with my husband, alone. I can easily get this. My aunt stands at the ready, I just need a time with no commitments when I can make it happen.
- I need to get through this week. I think I need someone to watch Eidie on Thursday for my endo appointment. LOL
- I need to cry. I am not there yet but it's coming.
- I need people to just check in with me, and tell me how YOU are doing. I am okay right now, as okay as okay ever is- I love you all and I want to hear your questions and worries and thoughts and celebrations and especially your GALLOWS HUMOR.
- I need to remember that I can't learn from this if my heart isn't open to grieve that my life will never be the same. I'll never be able to set aside that chance that I have cancer, ever again. It's a part of my story now, but woven into my future rather than my past. I need to let that wash over me. I don't know how, but I'm sure it will happen.
- I need the blessings, prayers and love of those who love me.
- Presents: always welcome. ;)
I'm not ready yet for treatment opinions, for suggestions or books I should read about what to eat, think, believe, change, eliminate or pray for. I'm too scared to get support in that way yet- to belong to an online group of people with cancer, or to read a book about it. I'm too scared for that - not because I think I'll die, but because that means saying I REALLY HAVE CANCER, no doubts, no shit, no mucking around- it's really here, inside me. I'm still dancing with this concept, like a girl trying on a new dress she isn't sure is the right one - looking at it from different facets, just not sure I'm ready to commit to this idea yet.
I do not feel sorry for myself. I do not feel upset by this, or in ANY way, that it 'shouldn't' have happen to me. Of COURSE it should happen to me - it DID happen to me! There is nothing to deny here, there's nothing to bargain for- the cancer arrived and I say, "Thank you, teacher. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but I know we'll do a lot of work together." Maybe that doesn't make sense to anyone but me, but it does make sense to me. This is in some way, Divine Perfection at work. This too, my friends, is God's Hand.
Just ask me questions, it helps me to write it out, to 'talk' about it in this way. It gives me few of those minutes where, even though I AM thinking about cancer, I'm able to avoid thinking about it inside my body, and even that is a welcome respite.