I talked to my mother in law last night. She wondered how we got from Lumpectomy and Radiation to mastectomy, reconstruction, and possible chemotherapy. She said this is all "very dramatic". Yes. Cancer is dramatic. Yes. Evidently, much of my family, and possibly, in part, my husband are in denial. Being "strong" and "handling things" does not make cancer less scary, serious, or dramatic.
Your mindset about this is what is dramatic, so far. You are pinballing ALL OVER THE PLACE and you've made a radical change in medical procedures within a matter of about 48 hours.
That isn't your family being in denial, that's you needing to be super woman and not just survive cancer, but come out the other end BETTER than you went in.
It's difficult because things have moved so fast. I was supposed to have surgery last thursday. That was canceled by the surgeon. Meanwhile, the MRI came back with cancer in the right breast, triggering a new set of tests and possible biopsies. Another visit to the surgeon, and discussions about why the cancer wasn't discovered during the first set of biopsies on the right, resulted in a talk about the pros and cons of keeping the breasts. After weighing that, we moved to the second option.
Things are going incredibly fast. I have been all over the place. This is scary as hell, but I have to be a wife, mother, worker, and cancer researcher right now. I honestly think having the surgery pushed back was a gift. A chance for me to think.
I am preparing for what ever comes next, when I know what that might be. Getting that information is trying. I am still waiting for genetic tests. I will not know about chemo until the tissue they remove is examined by a separate agency.
I have felt VERY alone. There is no way to describe what I am thinking in a way that would be understandable. The only thing I think I am really in denial about is the fact that THIS COULD STILL KILL ME. That's drama. I refuse to believe that. I deny any part of that statement.
And yes, I have been meditating very hard on how to grow/bloom/discover/recover from this a better person.
Cora, this is the first time I've seen your comment about what I said to you. You are and can be dramatic and it's part of who you are. I love all those parts of you, however, what I tried to comment about and what I said to you was that the change in the diagnosis was very dramatic. This whole process is as scary as hell and we all support your life through this journey.
Cora - I hereby grant you a license to be as dramatic as you need to be. To scream, rage, yell, cry, laugh, change your mind, collapse in a heap, and anything else you feel moved to do. Anyone who tells you that you are in denial, tells you you are being overly dramatic or selfish or silly well...you can send them right over to me. They have a verbal punch in the nose awaiting them.
That seems a bit unfair.
ReplyDeleteYour mindset about this is what is dramatic, so far. You are pinballing ALL OVER THE PLACE and you've made a radical change in medical procedures within a matter of about 48 hours.
That isn't your family being in denial, that's you needing to be super woman and not just survive cancer, but come out the other end BETTER than you went in.
Who's really in denial, here?
It's difficult because things have moved so fast. I was supposed to have surgery last thursday. That was canceled by the surgeon. Meanwhile, the MRI came back with cancer in the right breast, triggering a new set of tests and possible biopsies. Another visit to the surgeon, and discussions about why the cancer wasn't discovered during the first set of biopsies on the right, resulted in a talk about the pros and cons of keeping the breasts. After weighing that, we moved to the second option.
DeleteThings are going incredibly fast. I have been all over the place. This is scary as hell, but I have to be a wife, mother, worker, and cancer researcher right now. I honestly think having the surgery pushed back was a gift. A chance for me to think.
I am preparing for what ever comes next, when I know what that might be. Getting that information is trying. I am still waiting for genetic tests. I will not know about chemo until the tissue they remove is examined by a separate agency.
I have felt VERY alone. There is no way to describe what I am thinking in a way that would be understandable. The only thing I think I am really in denial about is the fact that THIS COULD STILL KILL ME. That's drama. I refuse to believe that. I deny any part of that statement.
And yes, I have been meditating very hard on how to grow/bloom/discover/recover from this a better person.
Cora, this is the first time I've seen your comment about what I said to you. You are and can be dramatic and it's part of who you are. I love all those parts of you, however, what I tried to comment about and what I said to you was that the change in the diagnosis was very dramatic. This whole process is as scary as hell and we all support your life through this journey.
DeleteCora - I hereby grant you a license to be as dramatic as you need to be. To scream, rage, yell, cry, laugh, change your mind, collapse in a heap, and anything else you feel moved to do. Anyone who tells you that you are in denial, tells you you are being overly dramatic or selfish or silly well...you can send them right over to me. They have a verbal punch in the nose awaiting them.
ReplyDeletexo,
Jane