I want to apologize for the post I did yesterday. While everything I said was true, and I waited 24 hours after I got bad news to let the emotions settle down, I think I still posted from a very discouraged and raw place. I know that I am struggling with depression over all of this.
My latest book, and I’m trying to read or listen to two per week, came to me as an award winning nonfiction recommendation per the search engine I use to find audible books. I did not know this, until I started listening to it, that it is the true story of a woman in her early 40’s who had terminal cancer. I don’t know her mental state at the end, but in the beginning, she felt that it was important to have two personas. The first was the one the public saw, which she wanted to project as a confident, fearless . . . “I’m gonna kick cancer’s ass” attitude. But the other one, was the real her and she worried constantly and deeply about the tests numbers, the ones that were telling her if she was going to live or die. The real her was also quite–but reasonably–depressed. The real her was no better off than me.
I don’t want to create two personas, one with a smile and “correct attitude” toward the world, fate or God, and the other one the real me. But with that said, I will try to process information for a few days next time before I try to write.
For me, the rational me, I find it beneficial to not just pray, but to meditate, to try and relax, and to do research. I trust the numbers (statistics), which can’t be applied at the individual level, but can give hope to the hopeless. I reviewed the other treatments this morning and the over-all hope that I can make it 4-5 years, at which time I do think a cure will be available.
I immediately am praying that my red and white blood cells will increase so that I can function better, that my bone marrow biopsy will show minimal or no cancer (we already know cancer is there somewhere because it is still making bad protein) and that the low dose chemo will keep it at bay. Thanks for all your kind words.
P.S. I don’t write these (last time) sob stories as “comment bait” or for pity, but it is my personal venting. Maybe I should type it up and burn it.