So today we get the call that my chemo drugs have arrived…. I can start treatment next week. And just like that, all my brave, gracious words from Wednesday, totally went out of the window….

Inside I feel like a belligerent child! I want to stamp my foot and lie on the floor and have a tantrum! I DON’T WANNA ***stomp, stomp, stomp*** I DON’T WANNA!!!!*** YOU CAN’T MAKE ME***stomp stomp stomp!

Tuesday’s news of being told I am Cancer free, has actually come back to haunt me. I have read the brochures on the side effects of the drugs both immediate and long term. The possibility of contracting leukemia at some stage, of heart defects, temporary and permanent nerve damage, immune system complications etc etc– the list goes on… I do understand that these occur in a relatively small section of chemo patients, but I am already a statistic, I am already one out of 8 women who get breast cancer. Why would I think this won’t be me?

It would almost have been easier if he hadn’t said the words as reassurance, “at this stage you are Cancer free”. I would now be thinking I am putting my body through all this extra trauma for a reason, to fight the good fight, to survive. But at the moment it all seems very hollow. I am now, at this moment, according to the scans, biopsies and my pre-pubescent chest, NOT sick!

I am truly conflicted about willingly poisoning my body now, so that I may not get cancer in 5, 10 or 20 years. AND once again, like everything in life, there are no guarantees! There is still a possibility that even if I have the chemo, the radiation the hormone blockers, I can still contract some type of cancer. Only now I also have to acknowledge a risk of contracting a blood cancer and possible heart issues. How are you expected to go into that Cancer Centre and willingly watch them put up that drip when every fibre of your being is shouting NO!

I totally understand from personal loss that we are not guaranteed a tomorrow. I could successfully survive cancer and be a victim of an accident or a violent crime or be hit by a bus. Life is fraught with dangers. I get all that, but I have always been a cautious person, avoiding danger, going for my yearly check ups, looking for lumps.. How do you ignore your survival instincts and run towards the bus?

“Unless your heart, your soul, and your whole being are behind every decision you make, the words from your mouth will be empty, and each action will be meaningless. Truth and confidence are the roots of happiness”.–Kathleen Pedersen

“Temper tantrums, however fun they may be to throw, rarely solve whatever problem is causing them.” Lemony Snicket

“You’ll never have all the information you need to make a decision. If you did, it would be a foregone conclusion, not a decision”.–David Mahoney Jr.

“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.” CS Lewis

“It does not take much strength to do things, but it requires a great deal of strength to decide what to do.” Elbert Hubbard

“Decisions are a way of defining ourselves. There comes a time in life when there is nothing else to do but go your own way. Where you are headed there are no trails, no paths, just your own instincts”.–Sergio Bambaren

“No trumpets sound when the important decisions of our life are made. Destiny is made known silently”.–Agnes de Mille


3 thoughts on “Tantrums

  1. We could run away together… but then who would do the fills?

    “You have to fight through some bad days to earn the best days of your life” Anon

    We’ll get past this small hurdle, and there will be such good times to come.

    Stay strong


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s