Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Emotional Wealth.

These days, thanks to the wonders of Al-Anon, I have great emotional wealth. My dictionary defines
"wealth" as an abundance of valuable resources, and I certainly have been granted that. I have the valuable resource of program wisdom, and I have been truly blessed with an abundance of friends to walk this path with me.

I have friends with whom I keep in touch, who live in cities many miles away, but I am able to get together with them for lunch and a visit every few months. In between visits, we exchange regular emails, and I smile to see their names in my email inbox. They are a richness in my life. Some are in program, some are not, it doesn't matter, we are close, and they add greatly to my joy.

One of the unexpected blessings of this cancer journey is that I have been allowed to realise how I am loved, by the way my friends have responded, with support, encouragement, humour and anything else I've needed, whether I knew I needed it, or only they knew.

I have a sponsor with whom I can speak with utter honesty. Last week before the meeting, she hugged me and asked how I was - I wasn't doing well last week, and when she gazed at me, concern and humour and affection in her eyes, I was completely undone, and began to weep. She stood up, came to me, and held me in her arms while I wept. I felt so safe and cared for. It was exactly what I needed, and it gave me the release of tears and the comfort of her arms around me. Of such relatively small but important things are friendships forged and solidified.

We make each other laugh like crazy, and can talk about anything - what an enormous gift.

Before Al-Anon, I didn't know how to be a good friend. I used what I jokingly call "The Mafia solution" when I was angry or disappointed in someone - "You are dead to me from this moment!"
- I'd just cut them off, and never speak to them again. I couldn't deal with conflict, so I just avoided it by avoiding them.

Al-Anon has taught me how to give, and how to receive love. Never, before Robert, had I ever thought I would love a man the way I love him. And never did I think a man would love me the way he loves me.

I have great emotional wealth, and it sustains me through whatever it is that's happening. I know I have people who love me, and I know I have plenty of people I love and adore. I am a truly lucky woman.

Thanks so much to all who have written their support and encouragement on this blog, it means a lot to me, and I'm grateful that you have taken the time and effort.

Update

I had three biopsies in total, on 3 new lumps, and will get the results in a week or so - more waiting. Robert is feeling devastated that it wasn't an abscess - I think, in retrospect, I knew it wasn't, but was trying to be hopeful about it.

Just knowing is easier than waiting to know, I find. I'm not feeling devastated about it all, more that I'm back at the beginning of the chemo round - hoping that whatever they give me will shrink the lumps, as the first batch of lumps were shrunken. It's all completely beyond my control, but I just have to hang on to the information that it doesn't appear to be in any of my major organs, and that makes it much more workable.

Not much else to say today. Unusual for me.

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

When Time Goes Agonisingly Slowly.

I have never been a person over-blessed with patience. Having cancer means that suddenly it seems that all one does is wait - to be given tests, and then for the results of those tests. To be given treatment, and then to find out the results of the treatment.

Today I go into hospital for another day surgery to either drain an abscess, or if it turns out instead to be a tumour, for a biopsy. I'm in a lot of pain right now, feeling tired, and with difficulty trying to turn it over, let it go. It's all completely out of my control, and will be whatever it will be.

I need to go take a shower, get dressed, and get ready to leave. One foot in front of the other, trusting in faith that my Higher Power will grant me the strength to get through whatever comes next. I am deeply grateful for Robert, because I know he will be with me whatever comes next.

Bless you.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Deja Vu All Over Again

I'm going in next Tuesday for another day surgery. Ugh. I have a lump which the radiologist considers to be an abscess, and the oncologist isn't sure what it is. Either way, abscess or otherwise, it either has to be biopsied, or if it is an abscess, drained. So I'm going back to the hospital again. I'm deeply grateful that it's going to be day surgery, and I can go home afterwards.

I'm struggling a bit with this. I've reached a limit of some sort, and feel like I've had enough, already. I don't want to go to the hospital again, I was just there two weeks ago getting a chemo port put into my chest.

But the sun is shining today, and I've got plenty of blessings for which to be grateful, so I'm trying to shut out the whining voice in my head, ask my Higher Power for help, keep calm, and carry on.

Friday, January 9, 2015

Be Where Your Hands Are.

I first heard that phrase when I was a newcomer, and it hit me with the force of a blow. What an astonishing feeling that was, to realise that the fellow member of Al-Anon had just given me a way to anchor myself in the present. Where are my hands? In the evening of January 9, 2015. I have the choice as to whether my mind is in the same time period,  rather than wandering the dusty hallways of the past, or racing wildly along the path to my future.

My adopted grandmother had several sayings she repeated endlessly, and one was:

"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof."
I take that to mean that each day contains enough to keep me occupied, so I need not be trying to peer around the edges of today, trying to imagine all the possibilities of my future.

Living with cancer is a hard teacher of that philosophy. Find a new lump, and one's mind can jump to various horrors and losses - when I'd just found the latest lump, before seeing the doctor, I said to Robert, "I can't face another operation!" He put loving arms around me, held me close, and said softly, "Don't fear the worst. It may never come to that."

I've just returned from seeing the doctor at Cancer Care again, the ultrasound report is in, and it appears that I have an abscess, and cellulitis,  (the skin and the tissues beneath it are infected.) This may sound somewhat gruesome, but compared to cancer, it's manageable and tolerable. I remember the oncology nurses warning us months ago, that I'd be susceptible to infections that a normal immune system can shake off.  It's a small price to pay for continued life.

Staying in the present moment means that I do not allow myself to imagine what might happen "if" this or that were to occur.

I don't go excavating in the past for hidden meaning anymore, or to feel self-pity about my childhood. It was what it was, and there were bad times and good; I choose to focus upon the positive, rather than reliving the pain, terror, and loneliness. I wallowed in my past for many years before Al-Anon, polishing my resentments, feeling furious anger about the abuse I'd gone through, wishing with all of my heart that my childhood had been "normal" and that I had a family in which I was loved. I didn't, I wasn't, and now that I'm 57, so what?

I cannot change the past no matter how hard I try. It's done and gone, and I've made my peace with it. Today is all that I am given - I have only this day in which to live, and if I spend my inner life in the past or the future, I am not really living, I'm existing.

I'm learning that having cancer doesn't mean I can't feel joy and gratitude. I feel as much happiness as I allow myself.

Today, I found myself thinking that I wished I still had my old industrial straight stitch sewing machine, with which to sew the coat I'm making. It had great power, and would sew through a dozen layers of leather with no hesitation. In the past, that thought would have had a life of several hours. Nowadays, it's a passing thought. I don't have it anymore, so what can I do if this domestic machine balks? Get a heavier needle. Do some handsewing. It's all manageable, if I permit it to be so.

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Roller Coaster Ride, con't.

Just a quick note to say that I saw a doctor at Cancer Care this morning, and had an urgent ultrasound this afternoon, and am now taking two kinds of antibiotic, as the doctor thought the lumps were the result of an infection, and or possible abscesses. She mentioned that on chemo, one is vulnerable to infections that someone with a fully functioning immune system can shake off easily.

We're praying that the news from the test will be that she's correct in her diagnosis, and that my new lumps are part of the infection.

She noticed, as I had not, that a lump I'd still had at my last appointment has now disappeared, and also, I'm gaining weight, both excellent signs.

I'm trying to let go of awfulising, projecting, and worrying, and just live in the moment and be grateful for all of my blessings. I'll keep you updated. Thanks to all of you who sent your best wishes to me, it's enormously comforting to receive them.

Roller Coaster Ride.

Living with cancer has been likened to a roller coaster ride - peaks - a clean ct scan, and valleys - I've found some new lumps in the month I've been off chemo long enough to get the PICC line out of my arm, and a chemo port installed in my chest. I wanted this done because I'd developed a ferocious allergy to the adhesive on the plastic and gauze bandages they were using on the PICC line, and the itch was driving me to distraction.

But the result of no chemo for a month is the new lumps. All I can hope is that once chemo starts up again tomorrow, they will be shrunk back into nothingness. I'm feeling anxious and frightened, and have had to ask my Higher Power to take my fear and anxiety, and grant me serenity. Against my initial feelings, I've shared the news with close friends in program, and shared my fear. I have received such love, caring and support, it brings tears to my eyes to know that I am loved.

I spent all of my life before Al-Anon, wanting to be loved, but being the kind of person who was so angry and resentful that I drove people away from me. I have the support system that I do now because of the person I have become as a result of this wonderful program.

I'm off to Cancer Care to see a doctor in about 45 mins, I'll keep you updated with whatever news I get.