Bad blogger...

Well, how long has it been since I've posted? I've had so much going on but no motivation to record any of it. DH teases me every day..."So you still haven't blogged? How am I supposed to know what you're thinking?" Ha! The jokes on you...there's no thinking going on in this head...

We made it to St. Louis this evening and my surgery is tomorrow morning. I have to be there at the ass crack of dawn. Thank goodness DH is with me and gets up early every day so he can drag me out of bed. I'm usually awake by 7:30 without an alarm but to be somewhere at 5:30 is gonna be just a little difficult. I'm by no means a night owl either. My best hours are from about 8 am to noon. OK maybe 11.

I admit I'm a little nervous. I've been having these mini-freak-outs all day. I just don't know what to do with all my nervous energy. I start getting these palpitations and short of breath. And then I close my eyes and take a deep breath...and try to remember it could be so much worse than what it is. It's easy to dwell on what sucks in your own life but when you think about others...someone always has it worse. For instance, I know a lady who's not much older than me who's also battling breast cancer, only hers is a rare type and she's been on chemo for nearly nine months and will be having surgery when she's recovered from that. And she's working full time. Another friend just had a baby with problems, I'm not really sure what, I don't know that they're really sure yet but how devastating! Months of anticipation of a new life and addition to your family and then boom, no warning, just a sick baby and worries and sadness during what should be a happy time.

Everywhere you turn, there are people who are worse off than you. So what do you do? Do you sit and feel sorry for everyone, think the world is a horrible thankless place, curse God or the devil for bringing tribulations to us, wonder why one person gets cancer and another doesn't? I'm sure there are some people who will do just that...lay down and die or stand up and curse...but I just can't do it. I don't know why God gave me this. I don't understand why he thinks I can handle it. I don't know why God gave my friend a sick child, but I firmly believe everything happens for a reason. Sometimes what you think could be the worse thing to happen to you ends up being a blessing...and sometimes what you think is perfect is not what it seems.

I know I'm rambling and quasi-philosophical and certainly not very funny tonight, but I've just had some things on my heart today. I'm kind of scared, not just for what I'm facing tomorrow but for what I know will happen over the next few months. I hate the thought of my kids having a sick mom. I don't like people looking at us and feeling sorry for us. I really don't want to lose my hair. I joke about the Dolly Parton wig (ok, it's not a joke, I've always wanted Dolly hair!) but I like my new haircut so much I don't want to lose it!

For the past 10 years, except for when I've had my babies and a couple of outpatient surgeries, I've been on the caregiver side of the bed. The one who's in control, the one doling out the drugs and information, the one doing the procedures. Not the one who has no control, the one getting the procedure done to her. Each time I walked in to work, I always had in the back of my mind that the patients and families did not want to be there and I needed to make things as pleasant as I could while still doing what needed to be done for them to get better. So I'd cajole them to cough and deep breathe, to get out of bed, to walk, to eat, to let me put this medical device in, etc. If they refused I'd wheedle and bargain, I'd try to figure out whatever they needed psychologically to do what I'd want them to do. I'd manipulate the situation when necessary, out of concern for the patient to get better. I saw it as my job, and I was pretty good at it. Now I get to be on the other side, I'll be facing having to have medical devices place, having to cough and deep breathe and sit in the chair and take this pill...and I'll have a nurse asking, telling, cajoling, wheedling, bargaining, manipulating, whatever's necessary to get me to do what I'm supposed to do. I want to be a good patient, I really do, not for the sake of not being a pain in the ass nurse patient (ask anyone, nurses and doctors make the worse patients!!) but because I really do want to get better. I don't want to be sick, I want this cancer gone from my body. I'm willing to do what it takes, even if that means cutting off what, to many people, makes me a woman. Even if it means dripping poison into my body to kill whatever tiny dormant cells that are lurking, waiting to come back and invade my body again.

So say a little prayer for me today please. I'm doing the best I can, which is not really that great right now. But it's all I've got today. And if you're lucky, they'll have wi-fi at the hospital and DH will talk me into blogging while under the influence of narcotics! Who knows, maybe I'll have something funny or profound to say.