I'm so sorry that you're going through so very much, Kitt.
It isn't fair. Cancer is a crazy and irrational beast, attacking good people who deserve so much better. If cancer were a human form, I'd be praying forgiveness for spilling his/her blood. I'm so sorry that the beast has attacked your body. I'm even more sorry that you have the added anxiety and depression of our condition as you face one of most of our member's greatest fears.
But like someone said above, you aren't "going" to be brave. You ARE brave!!!! You've BEEN brave!!!!! Webster's is going to have to put your picture in the dictionary beside the word! You're the embodiment of brave - even on the days you need to cry. We know that you'll continue to be brave. We have faith in you!
I zeroed in on a particular part of your post, where you said, "I feel so sad that I will never be the old me again." That's just not really true. It reminded me of one of my therapy sessions.
My counselor asked me to tell her who I was. I was rather stumped, just staring at her with my mouth
open. I mean, I had been seeing her for months. She laughed. She said that I had been asserting how much I "wasn't" in many of my sessions. I "wasn't" performing well at work. I "wasn't" keeping up with my household duties. I "wasn't" as strong as I once was. etc.
She asked me to close my eyes and try to think of the time that I felt the most at peace with myself - the time that I was happiest, that I felt connected to my being. I immediately knew the answer to that.
I said, "I was a 19 year-old art student, wearing braids and beads in my hair, gauzy skirts and flip-flops. I didn't own a cosmetic product and the only paint ever on my nails was leftover from artwork. I was living off of ramen noodles so I could afford good paint and espresso. I drew and painted everything I saw. I spent time in nature. I was caught with leaves in my hair in class more than once because I spent lunch laying on the ground. I worked too much, but the whole time I worked I was composing my next piece in my mind."
Then, she had me
open my eyes. I looked down at black stilettos, my black and gray suit, french-tipped nails on glowing white hands, swollen ankles. My hand went to my graying hair pulled tightly into a bun. I thought about
the canvases gathering dust at my house and the pile of reporter notebooks in my car.
She said, "As life progresses, your body, your situation, your habits - those will all change. No matter how much your exterior is forced to change, though, you'll always be that art student with leaves and braids in her hair and a painting in her mind. When you're 60, you'll still be that 19 year old girl. When you're sick or down, try to reconnect with her in your heart."
So, Kitt, close your eyes and find out who you are. Find Mary. How old is she? What makes her tick? No matter what chemo does to you - that's still who you are. You'll always be your old self and you always have been. There will be times that your circumstances and your body won't cooperate, but that won't change who you are. Hold fast to yourself, sweet Mary, because you're a very special, beautiful person who inspires us all and there is absolutely nothing that cancer or chemo can do to change that. It can attack your body. It can even attack your mind. It cannot TOUCH who you ARE.
I love you!
Joyce
Post Edited (BeRock) : 10/2/2013 10:52:09 PM (GMT-6)