After the past three days of taking steroids and flying high, today I started the post steroid crash. On Monday the nurse reassured me that a mental low was common coming off steroids and to be gentle with myself if I was feel down. In addition to the steroids, my parents left yesterday. That was a hard goodbye, only made easier by the chance I will see then again in three weeks at my brother's wedding! Today aside, I have been working hard on my mental attitude these past three weeks. I was feeling so pessimistic. The five year survival stats are so grim; I was feeling hopeless and that I will not live to see my 50th birthday. I still don't know if that will happen but I am working hard to not worry about it. I'm feeling greedy, but not guilty, about living large and having big wonderful days, whenever I feel well enough. There are lessons to learn when you feel death sneaking up on you. While I wouldn't wish a "premature" terminal illness on anyone -- life is terminal, we are all mortal. And it's not fun to think about, but doing so makes life so much richer. I hope you all make the most of today!
Here are some of the tools I have developed to feel empowered these past few weeks:
I have a mantra card that I recite a few times a day: "I am not dying today." I am Alive and Living!! I find that helpful.
Sarah Fangman send me wishing prayer papers that the whole family wrote prayers on (no pressure on what to pick as a prayer) and set them on fire to fly into the sky. (It's so wet here that we didn't even worry about setting Port Meadow ablaze)
Then there is the great card Sarah also sent....mI won't retype the message, you can read it in the picture.
Jenn sent me a beautiful bracelet the fits nicely with my FitBit, and it reminds me every day that I can do this.
But I need all of your help too. A few weeks back Bruce bought me a cancer cell toy at Blackwells bookstore. "Porlock" (if you're not up to date, that's what I named my tumor) came with me to chemo on Monday. I want to think of fun ways to torture it for the next four chemo cycles. Blowtorch? Getting chewed up by a pack of dogs? Drowning in the Thames? BBQed? Bathed in acid? Be creative! I promise to take pictures of all the torture. Maybe I should turn Porlock's torture into a picture book? On my five year cancer free anniversary we will burn Porlock in a blazing bonfire. You are all invited.
Hugs to all of you and tell someone you appreciate them,