I had a lung biopsy last week. Let me say it was very interesting. I was surprisingly calm. I guess ignorance is bliss. I have been working my way through the internet for information on things like stem cells, varies drugs, medical marijuana, special teas, vitamins, supplements and whatever I can read. I find myself in a dialog of hope and fear. I run between being happy and joyful to being the saddest of sad. I have been reading the stats of 1 in 3 women will develop melanoma. I have been reading about pediatric melanoma. I can’t imagine being a parent with a child in this horrible place. I try to sit and just watch TV, go to work and just be normal. But in the back of my mind is the most scary statistic, Stage 4 diagnoses has 9 months to 1 year to live. If you are lucky, maybe up to 5 years. I keep thinking of my mom who was told she had cancer and 3 months to live and she did not last a week. My dad is almost 7 years cancer free from colon cancer. I don’t know what to think anymore.
I get my results on Monday. I want so much to talk to someone who is going through this war zone. I want to understand how to accept this and how to rise above the fear. I want someone to walk the path with me and even though I know God is with me, a physical presence would be great. Yes, I have my family and my friends and even the doctors and nurses I have made my friends are there. But no one except a fellow traveler can completely get the reason I want to be alone, the reason I cry for no apparent reason, the reason I want to do silly things like go to the zoo or a movie or just sit and read a book. A fellow traveler on this road would get it, would have insight, would have comfort and maybe even have compassion for my need to scream.
I want to let everyone in my life know just how scared I am but I am not sure that would be the right thing to do. You see, I have always been the strong one. The one that never showed fear or sorrow when my daughter broker her arm or lost a boyfriend or a job. I have always been the one with the positive words, with encouragement for everyone. It would be totally out of character for me to show my reality. I have always stuffed my feelings and dealt with them behind closed doors or in the shower where no one can hear me cry.
As I travel through this week to my diagnoses on Monday, I will keep my head up, keep my joy, embrace my family and friends and be at peace.
Peace to you all.