Took Me Long Enough....

It is said that when confronted with a breast cancer diagnosis, or any cancer for that matter, people will go through many stages.  I'm pretty sure I've been living in the shock and disbelief stage since my diagnosis 2 months ago, on that dreadful Friday afternoon, via phone call from the radiologist who had read my pathology report from my biopsy the day before.  I don't think I had moved on to the other stages.... until today.  I'm not sure why it has taken me this long.  I'm going to blame it on the whirlwind of doctors appointments, surgeries, and tests that have consumed my every waking moment of the last 2 months.  Everything happened so quickly that I do not believe I had the time to absorb what exactly has been going on.  (See last 13 posts) haha

Other stages can be denial and anger.  I think these two collided head on today for me.  I was sitting on the couch lost in some type of trance and it hit me like a ton of bricks.  I have cancer.  And if that isn't devastating enough, I have a cancer gene mutation.  What, no way, not me.  It can't be.  Nope not gonna think about it.  It'll just go away if I don't think about it and accept it.  Massive denial.  Then another major realization of my denial....  I have not even peeked at my chest.  Not even one little itty bitty glance under the bandages.  It's been 11 days and I still am unable to bring myself to do this. I am absolutely terrified to look.   In the depths of my mind this must be my denial kicking in.  If I don't see it, it's not real.  I did not happen.

But as quickly as these thoughts enter my mind, I am rocketed back to reality with sharp pains of the nerves firing off in my chest where my healthy full body used to reside.  Now replaced, I assume, with giant gashes which I'm sure resemble someone who has been in a machete fight and lost a horrible battle.  I know I have to look.  Because looking will be the first step in acceptance and the next phase of healing, not only my body, but more so my mind.  But right now, just not ready.  I wish I was stronger.  But alas I am not.

Then the anger hits me.  Out of the blue.  Nothing really triggered it.  It just must be time to move on and out of the phases I had been stuck in for way too long.  I am not an angry person.  Nor will I let the anger I am feeling tonight get the best of me.  But I do feel like you must go through this phase as well in order to heal.  So I am just going to unleash, put it out there.  Some things I'm angry about make sense.  Some do not.  None of them can be controlled, but nonetheless I deserve to be angry for at least a little bit.  So here it is, raw, emotional, and from my head and heart in no particular order.

I am mad because:

This horrible disease picked me to fuck up my life.

I am the very lucky recipient of a very rare cancer gene mutation in addition to the BC.

That because of this mutation I will never ever feel safe from the C word ever again; I will always wonder when the next event is going to hit me.  Is that pain cancer, is that bump cancer.  Worry, worry, worry.  FOREVER.

I cannot even bathe myself.  I have the best man in the entire world.  Because this wonderful guy gives me my "sponge" baths.  How humiliating it is for this every independent woman.  Someone has to bathe me because I cannot even lift my own arms.

I cannot wash my own hair.  Thank goodness for my hair dresser.

I can barely wipe my own ass.  Key word - barely... my fiancé escaped this one...  haha

I cannot sleep at all most nights.  The recliner has become uncomfortable.  The bed sucks.  The couch sucks.... everything sucks.

I am in some sort of constant pain all of the FN time.

I cannot hardly shit (literally, damn anesthesia and pain pills).

I cannot play with my dogs,  throw their toys, and cuddle... they are both so confused.  They seem sad and angry too.

I no longer have boobs.  And they were some great ones, or so I've been told.

I can no longer wear most of my tops due to no boobs; did you know, women's tops are designed and made for women and their boobs.  Without them these designs no longer work and most women who have lost theirs now buy from the men's section.  Like hell I'm going to be shopping at the men's department.  NOT!  We need a boobless top designer and store!

That it is so cold and nasty out that I cannot even walk outside, or sit outside and soak up the sun.  Walking out the door in the freezing air just makes me hurt worse!  I hate winter.

Food tastes like ass... I only eat because I have to.  I think in the back of my crazy mind it's because in every article regarding cancer somewhere they blame some type of food...  If you combine all of the articles, we would all die from starvation because depending on the different opinions EVERYTHING we eat and drink will cause cancer.

I am going to go broke paying the damn doctor bills; yes I am paying someone thousands of dollars to chop my tits off.  How awesome is that.

Well there it is...  off the top of my head why I'm angry.   Wow that felt pretty good.  I know it is going to take lots of time to get used to the new me and to quit being angry about this terrible thing that happened.  I've got to figure out how to move on and that is what I'm going to start focusing on soon.  I'm just not quite ready to let go of the anger yet.  Maybe when I get the balls to look underneath my bandages I will be able to move on to the next phase.  Acceptance.