I felt an overwhelming surge of panic in the center of my chest and was enveloped with a wave of fear. I could feel the heat in my face and the beads of sweat swelling on my cheeks and nose. It was in that moment that I realized how much of a psychological burden I now face. My battle is not just a physical one, but one that truly challenges all aspects of my being. This is a journey that may leave some life long scars that lie much deeper than the surface.
This weekend I decided to shampoo my wigs. I have had them since early February and let's just say that they were getting a little funky. My brother, Joey purchased shampoo for my wigs as a gift. I know in my heart that he is trying so desperately to make this all better. He feels helpless, as do many others who love me, and does whatever he can to continually shower me with gifts. I appreciate his gestures of love and kindness more than he probably realizes. Once my wigs were washed ("funk free") and had dried I placed them on my head to style them again and brush out the tangles. Several strands broke free from the woven scalp and I immediately started having a panic attack. I know it sounds stupid, but there is no way to truly express what it feels like to lose your hair. It is a surreal experience that there is no way to prepare yourself for it. It is one of the most horrible things I have ever experienced and to see those strands falling out effected me in a way that I cannot describe. Psychologically, when I see hair fall out, I panic now. I wonder if this behavior will continue when my hair grows back and it sheds. How will I overcome this fear? These are implications I had not prepared myself for.
This weekend I was showering and as I do almost every shower now I was doing my daily breast exam (yes, it's totally psychological) and feeling my incision under my arm. I felt a lump. I became faint and nauseous, so I sat on the floor in my shower and let the water continue to fall over me. I was crying hysterically and breathing hard. I continued to tell myself over and over that I JUST had an MRI and it said everything shrunk. I know that I have some fluid still under my incision, so I am sure that is what I am feeling, but it doesn't stop me from being paranoid. This is MY body and I want so badly for it all to be okay. After I had talked myself through the situation, I stood and resumed my shower, but that feeling only subsided temporarily. When I was visiting my family this weekend I made sure to have my mom feel the lump, too. I will ask my oncologist about it on Friday, but I almost certainly know that he will tell me not to worry. How can I not? Am I going to be like this forever? Am I going to live in fear of cancer returning for the remainder of my life? These are not things a 26-year-old should have to battle with daily.
Right now I see these psychological challenges as such a burden. I am trying desperately to find a positive and optimistic angle, but am coming up empty. This Friday is round five of chemotherapy where Andrew, Bronwyn, my Dad, Jenn and Rick will all be joining me. I am so blessed to have such wonderful friends who don't mind seeing me in my darkest and ugliest of hours (useless, slurring, grumpy and unable to remember what I am talking about mid-sentence). I know I only have two more treatments left, but then that tiny, negative voice creeps up and says "I can't believe I have to go through this two more times." Treatments are getting harder and harder as the poison builds in my body. I am so tired and weak. I am counting the days until May 30. Please God just help me get through this month.
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