For Crying Out Loud

First, I would like to report that I am doing better, as in better living through chemistry. I no longer am going and hiding in the bedroom when there are people in the house. I am able to smile and even laugh again. I also have been looking at how I have been trying to deal with my cancer.

I know there are stages of grief and of dying. I can't remember what they are, nor have I looked into where I am in the process. I have been trying to deal with my disease head on and in a clear eyed fashion. I have come to the conclusion that that really isn't working for me at the moment, so I am going to try a new tactic. Denial. Maybe I've been here before, but it feels new to me right now.

I have been talking to my Hospice nurse and we are negotiating the waters of my release from Hospice. The challenging part is what to do next. I sort of fired my oncologist, and Daddy didn't like him anyway. I left the door open with him and I think he would take me back, but we still have different philosophies, so he doesn't feel quite right for me.

On the other hand, he has all my history and is familiar without having to read reams and reams of records. And I sort of feel like I owe him the rest of the story. This may seem sort of silly to you, but so many of his patients die due to the type of cancers he specializes in. Wouldn't it be nice for him to have a rare success story? He doesn't even know about my miraculous recovery.

Another option would be to just go with my primary care physician. I like her a lot; I feel like with both of us approach my care as a partnership. She hasn't let me down so far, but I don't think she will feel comfortable with this. We have discussed this in the past.

A third option is to start with her, and see who she recommends. The point is that I am once again at a crossroads and in the grip of uncertainty. I know, I know, we all live our lives with uncertainty, but most of us manage at most times to maintain the fascade of control. I know I have lost mine. But enough about that.

From now on, when anyone asks me how I am, I'm fine. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Posted by Maman at 1:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)

I had a dream last night. Parts of it were quite vivid and memorable. I don't quite remember how it started, but I think I was with Mendon and we had to rush off to this obscure place for an obsure reason. For another obscure reason, I left by myself on foot. That was the part of the dream that was not vivid or memorable. Now for the part that was. I was walking through a leafy neighborhood on a hilly street. There were two men and a woman arguing. The one man was shouting "Get out of my house!" over and over again. The other man was half dragging and half strangling the poor woman. I walked past them on up the hill, worrying that I should call the police. Up the hill, I came across some neighbors and asked them if they knew the people and should we call the police. (I didn't have a cell phone with me.) They didn't seem to think it was necessary as these people had been at it for years. I kept walking. And walking. As I walked, I was joined by some other people. I asked them where I was. They answered with a question of where I had been. I didn't know. They intimated that I might be suffering from senility. I felt confused, but not senile. The chaos of the first part of the trip made where I had been unimportant in a way.

I reached a crest of the hill and looked down on a valley vista. I couldn't see where the road went because of the trees and twists and turns. And the whole view seemed to twist and writhe mirage-like as I gazed at it. I was filled with an over-whelming feeling of panic because I didn't know where I was going or where the road went or what my destination was going to be, or even where I was coming from. As I stared, I became aware that though I couldn't see where the road went, I could see a segment of it. I could keep on going at least a little ways, until I came to another turn in the road, when I would have to reasses things.

Upon awakening, I realized that it was the perfect metaphor for where I am in my life right now.

Posted by Maman at 10:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)