Catia Bitching Cancer

So this is it: the panic that strikes you after all is said and done, slashing poisoning and burning…all done…now it’s time for learning how to live with fear and not let yourself live in fear. I got a nice start with thyroid hormones at >100 (so chemo or radiation shut down my thyroid…nice!) but most of all, with elevated liver test values. Couple that with CT finding of the three lesions in the liver, and finally CEA and CA 27-29 (tumor markers) higher than before chemo, one of them outside normal range. So dr. Faith had me take more tests and at that point I had been freaking out for quite a few days. It was then that I decided to join a real life cancer support group. I’m not letting them go. It turned out that it was likely nothing too worrisome, just that I have to stop drinking alcohol all together (yeah, that sucks!). But those days further opened my eyes at what my life is going to be like from now on: constant worry and constant wonder. Worry that the cancer may come back and with a vengeance, but wonder at the beauty of life, at the preciousness of every moment, at the marvel of a butterfly that lands on your hand and unexpectedly stays to let herself be admired. Sure, if I am lucky eventually I will go back to my usual, hurried and unobserving self. And sure, I look forward to that in a sense. I don’t want to go back to that dark place that I visited a few days ago. But there was something very beautiful in those moments too, this heightened attention to each breath I took, each smile on Sandro’s face, each drop of sweat from the heat of the day and each gust of wind that blew the sweat away…even each piece of laundry that went into the washing machine. I thought that I could choose to make all moments meaningful or make them meaningless. At the same time I was terrified of the darkness of death, of the prospect of my son’s suffering in losing his mommy. My support group therapist suggested I embrace fear and all the feelings I have without painting a scenario around them, learning to accept the feelings without imagining the worst. Now I do feel better and, sure, I go about everyday business in a semi-normal fashion. I know fear is going to be my companion for a while, I’ll wake up with her, have panic attacks, I will go over them, then have them visit me again. It will get better, if I am lucky. It only takes time….it takes time…as if time is what we have.