Tunnel Vision. August 13, 2015.

August 13, 2015

I spent a good 2 hours crying today and a good 2 hours in the dentist. No they did not occur at the same time. First let me back track to my last day in Seattle. I had an appointment with my medical militia, is that the right term? I don’t know army terms but I like to think of them as the leaders of my battle against the cancer monster, it’s a stronger image than team. Anyway they felt that it was really important to explore the nodes in my stomach so I go back to Seattle on Monday to get a more invasive biopsy surgery done. This one is more complicated because you know when you let that cute little kid help you bake and all they ever want to do is crack the eggs and eat the batter but when you let them crack the eggs they get a shell in the yolk and every time you think you’ve grabbed the shell it moves? Well that’s how the lymph nodes in my stomach are so they actually have to put me to sleep and cut me open so they can grab one. SO AFTER this surgery they should have answers as to whether I have Stage 4 cancer or Stage 3B. If I have Stage 3B I will start radiation on Wednesday in Seattle, if I have Stage 4 I will wait to discuss the different clinical trials that are opening soon. So fast forward from the end of my CT scan on Tuesday, 8 hours later and we roll into my drive way in Klamath Falls at 4 a.m. in one piece thank the Lord. At 8 a.m. the next morning I had a dentist appointment, then an hour break, then another dentist appointment, then an hour break, then a chiropractor appointment then the day was done. Today I woke up and had another dentist appointment and I came home, spilled water, dropped my phone, then went into my bedroom, sat down, and cried.

This is the part where I guttural cry for 2 hours. You know how people say there is a light at the end of the tunnel? It feels as if I am digging my way through the tunnel and one day I see a tiny speck of light and the next day I get dirt in my eyes and the light is gone. I feel like I have no map and I am wandering aimlessly through, just hoping that I’m going the right way. Normally when you get through a huge clump of dirt you see the light, it may be far away but at least you see it and you can move towards it. I don’t feel that way. Normally when you have a major surgery you plan for it, you get it done, you recover, then you say congratulations and thank God you got through it and it becomes a thing of the past. When I get through a huge clump of dirt there is just another one proceeding it. When I get done with labs, scans, biopsies, and surgeries I don’t have that feeling of relief like now I can move on with my life. After surgery comes the next lab or biopsy or scan or treatment. This is my life now. It will never be the same. I remember when I went to college group the guy doing announcements said, “What are you doing with life? School? Work?” The only response I could think of was, “I’m fighting Cancer.”

Now don’t worry I’m not going to leave you there feeling sad for the crying cancer girl stuck in a tunnel, I’m not defeated, I’m human. 2 hours passed by while I sat in the dirt, not digging, not moving toward the light, just sitting. In these moments I can really understand why people give up, why they say screw it and let Cancer win. It’s exhausting, it’s stressful, it’s hard, and it can feel hopeless. My Mom mentioned something to me earlier, she said, “It’s kind of like people in the military, they get comfortable with where they are at and then all of a sudden they are sent to a new place. Or someone who is paralyzed in a car wreck, they are driving their car like normal and all of a sudden they can’t walk. Even a teenager who moves out for the first time, they are living with their parent’s and then all of a sudden they have bills to pay.” 

The point being we go through life changes all the time. Just because this is one that isn’t always fun or easy, this isn’t the first time my life has been changed. When I learned to talk, when I got saved, when I learned how to do my hair, when I moved out, when I had my first boyfriend, you name it, our lives change every day. My life will never be the same. It just won’t. There is nothing I can do to change that or take that back. But even if I didn’t have cancer, something else would happen that would change my life forever, you know why? God didn’t call us to live in comfort or to have our lives stay the same forever, we wouldn’t change. It’s about perspective, I’m human and I get sad and I feel hopeless, and I feel defeated sometimes. I’m learning how to live a life with Cancer now, not to live a life of Cancer. If that makes sense. I take my moment to sit in the dirt, then I pick up my shovel with God as my guide and I keep digging.