Cancer related things are kicking my butt at the moment.
After months of jollying along, the big ol' sad has caught up with me again. Mostly because Arimidex is *hurting* at the moment. My lower back and hip joints *hurt*. Of the 'I'm uncomfortable standing, sitting and lying down' variety. Of the ibuprofen and paracetamol are not really cutting it pain-killing-wise at the moment. Of the 'only boiling heat seems to dull the pain enough to sleep' variety. There are only so many nights and days you can go through without starting to turn into some insane, about to eff and blind at anyone and everyone type of person.
And at moments like that my brain gets locked down into panic-mode. And all I can think is that the medication isn't working; the cancer is eating away my pelvis and spine and the end is nigh - woe is me - etc, etc.
And I scare myself when I get like that. I start to worry that I'm going to accidentally kill myself by taking too many painkillers - just because I got to that point where I was so desperate to make the pain stop for just a moment that I took another dose. I'm not saying I'm about to do that - in fact I'm bloody careful not to; but I can see so clearly how you could end up there.
I know I'm going to have to call my breast care nurse and at least get some sleeping/relaxant stuff from her. But I'm just so scared that they're going to whisk me in to have tests done and I'm going to end up not being able to go out to the States to be with my mum and my brother for Christmas. And we've booked the flights. And the insurance companies either won't insure me for anything cancer-related or they won't cover cancellation and curtailment. Either way it will be money wasted. And I won't get to have old-school Christmas.
The other morning the sun was shining so brightly but it was really cold - quite a rarity here; and I was so torn. It was beautiful but it made me sad. And I thought - I don't want to love like this; here, in this life of mine. But I can't go back to my old life. And I can't change the fact I have cancer. Wherever I go; whatever I change; I can't change that. If I do something new or different then I'm just dragging cancer off to the new and different spot with me. It doesn't go. It's the cartoon/old movie irons around the ankles.
Second verse, same as the first.
The other night I got home and just ended up crying and saying 'please'. Over and over and over again. Begging. With God, with the Universe; with the wind and the cloud and the rain and the snow and the ocean - with every wave in the sea. Just 'please' - please let the last four years have been a dream. That 'worst nightmare I've ever had' that was my first thought when they said it was cancer. Please. Please let this not be. Please. Please. I don't know how to ask any more nicely. I don't know how to be any better; any more deserving.
My miracle. Please.
Or maybe - if this has to be real - could I live in the dreamworld instead. Shut down this external existence and just live in dreams.