I’ve been having a big ass pity party for the past few weeks. And, quite frankly, I’ve been letting myself indulge. There are few things in the world as frightening to hear as “it’s metastasized”, and I’ve been doing a lot of crying and a lot of searching: searching for an answer, searching for a reason, searching for a cure, searching for a way around this. So far, the only thing that I’ve found during my searches is that I’m still here to fight another day.
And let me tell you, I don’t feel very much like I’ve got room to fight. My friend L lost her Mom about 18 months ago. She’s often explained it like she’s waiting for her Mom to come back, for this part to be over. I completely understand that. I am waiting for my cancer to be over, for me to be healthy and done with this. Unfortunately, as my doctors have informed me, when you have a bone met, there is no “over”, there is no being cancer-free. I no longer get to live with that hope…at least not now. Maybe we will be able to keep the disease at bay for long enough that a new drug therapy will be available and I will get to live that dream.
So, while I’ve been preparing for my last chemo on Monday, I’m living with a gnawing fear of what happens when we stop pumping my body full of the chemo drugs. Since October, when all of this began, I’ve been excited to finish chemo and have my hair grow back, but now I am scared to death. If my hair is growing back, that means that the medicines are out of my system…the fast growing cells are growing. Are the cancer cells growing too?
People ask me often if I trust my doctors, and I had a grand epiphany this week. I do, I trust my doctors. I know, without a doubt, that they are knowledgeable and conscientious. But, I don’t trust my own body. I have no faith that my cells want to give up this disease. At every turn, my body has held on to and allowed the cancer to return or spread.
I guess you could say that I’m mourning my loss of innocence. There are worse things to mourn, and I do know that. But that doesn’t mean that the tears haven’t flowed, a lot. And it doesn’t mean that I am not constantly scared. But it also doesn’t mean that I’m giving up hope. And it certainly does not mean that I am giving up the fight.
I know that speaking with Dr. A on Monday will bring some answers and, I hope, some sense of peace about what everything means. Until then, if you see me with red, swollen eyes, just know my party continues.
Natasha said,
January 29, 2010 at 4:59 pm
I wish I could give you a big hug! Sending you lots of love, Eileen. xoxo
Beth said,
January 29, 2010 at 5:42 pm
I just wrote you a huge mess of emotion….then deleted it. THe most that I can tell you is that you will be on my mind and are on my mind each time I see one of your boys.
Karen said,
January 29, 2010 at 11:54 pm
As you know, I’ve not been one short on words however I find myself wordless right now but not thoughtless. May my thoughts be of some comfort and strength to you, altho in my opinion, you’ve enough strength for all of us. I hope a better day is around the corner…
Emily (Nielsen) Varney said,
January 30, 2010 at 12:02 am
I was thinking just the other day, of Senorita Campbell’s Spanish class. I sat in front of you 2nd year, didn’t I? We were so young – but even back then, you were brave. I remember a time in class when someone teased me for being LDS and you stood up for me. You are standing up now against something far more intimidating, but you are not alone. Thanks for sharing your struggles and your courage, and inspiring everyone who is lucky enough to know you!
Patty Ogden said,
January 30, 2010 at 2:01 pm
Eileen,
Life to me is always a paradox. One of my favorite lines is from a simple musical you may have never seen. It is, “The Fantastic’s” and at one time held the record for the longest running Off Broadway play. You may know the song, “Try to Remember” which was the main song of the show. In it, the paradoxes of life are very simply addressed: like why we all must have problems before we grow again. Then El Gallo, the main character, goes on to say, “I do not know the answer…I merely know its true.”, as he watches the two young lovers be hurt, but grow and stay together. I don’t know why you have to do this and we all know you would not have chosen this. The paradox may be that you will grow in ways that may not have been possible without this cancer you are so strongly fighting. You may have the opportunity to have a deeper understanding and appreciation of life. Through you and your sharing your struggles, we who care about you and follow your blog, may also be changing through this paradox. I will continue to think of you and say to you “Press on!” We love you!
Kristen Brooks said,
January 30, 2010 at 4:07 pm
Think of you everyday. Going for genetic testing for Breast CA and use you as my inspiration. “If Eileen take take all this sh%&, then I can go get a little test done for my kids.” My sister and my mom think I am NUTS ! What else is new.
I wish I could be there to give you hugs, take the kids out, shop, do anything. I will say we had a HUGH party, cake and all for my dad on his last day of Chemo. For a non-cancer person, I had no idea what impact it would have. My dad said for once he felt normal. The people in the infusion suite asked for us to come back again when they were done their chemo. Hmm….I think of those folks often as my dada and I talk about them and wonder ?!
Lots of love comes form us. We think and talk of you often in our prayers. XOXO
Susan said,
January 30, 2010 at 6:47 pm
You continue to amaze me with the raw honesty you share with the world. Thank you for letting us share in your journey in such a personal way. You stay in every thought I have, and I am inspired by your strength. I’d love to see you soon…I send a virtual hug until then.
Nancy said,
January 31, 2010 at 9:32 am
As you continue your battle, I think back to my own fight and when the chemo ended…..the fears when the drugs leave my system will the cancer come back? Will I have to go thru this again? I was weak, both mentally and physically…..I didn’t know if I was strong enough. I felt left lost without my visit to my chemo nurses who had become friends and supporters. I guess what you are feeling is so normal. Continue to accept your feelings and express your emotions, because like I have said before, you inspire others with your courage. Thank you for sharing this journey and by the way you are more than entitled to a “Pity Party”. Good luck with your upcoming Dr. appointment. Hugs and prayers from an old friend and fellow survivor. I love you!
Audrey said,
January 31, 2010 at 1:19 pm
Eileen,
I am so sorry the last several weeks have been extraordinarily difficult for you. Never having been through this myself, it seems unfair to even try and understand what you are going through. All I can do is continue to pray for you and send all my positive thoughts and energy your way.
I am glad you have such a tremendous support system to help you through the highs and lows of this journey. Stay strong and keep fighting! My thoughts are with you and your family today and everyday!
Love,
Audrey
sarahfeather said,
January 31, 2010 at 5:46 pm
I think the loss of innocence is the hardest part of cancer. No longer being able to blithely fast-forward in your mind to the retirement years, or watching your great-grandchildren play. Feeling slightly adrift.
Go ahead and cry – you shouldn’t feel guilty for it. Wallow, nap, eat chocolate (dark, organic) and then get up, hug your kids and go for a walk. It doesn’t get better, but it gets more familiar, and less scary.
xoxo
Sarah (The Carcinista)
Zenny said,
February 1, 2010 at 12:11 pm
Lots of love coming your way. Every. Single. Day.
Buzzy said,
February 1, 2010 at 6:33 pm
Ahhhhhhhh Beens. I really think you need to turn these into a book. You are describing things so honestly and completely. As a friend, I am so appreciative, even if it makes me feel more helpless to help you somehow.
Love you!
Tami said,
February 2, 2010 at 1:46 am
Beens, lots of love to you!!! You are never far from my thoughts!! xo
Amy said,
February 2, 2010 at 10:03 pm
All my thoughts and prayers are with you. Love ya!