At my final chemo treatment and bell ringing ceremony I was presented with a certificate of achievement. It delightfully proclaimed I am now qualified to talk about my experience with anyone who will listen. I’m afraid I jumped the gun. Now, I’d prefer to listen.
I have been talking, ad nauseam, about my experience and feelings for 5 months now. I’ve spent enough time in my own head and I’d really now like to know what everyone else has been thinking but not saying.
I realize withholding things from me before was polite, even necessary at times. I wasn’t capable of hearing it at first. It is one of the reasons I didn’t tell very many people until chemo was complete. But, things are different now so lay it on me.
I want to comfort. I want to commiserate. I want to tell you everything is going to be okay. I’ll scream and yell and curse this thing that happened together if you want to. And I know there are a few of you who want to. Because this thing didn’t just happen to me. It happened to us.
We can also talk about something else. Trust me, I’m so ready for a new topic.
Knowing what to say to someone who is sick is really difficult. (This might help.) Expressing fear and anger or confessing what you need is hard also. I feel the same! But, getting back to normal requires one of two things from all of us: address the elephant or ignore him. I’m ready to do either.
I don’t know if I can even put into words how I feel about my “C” journey. I found out about the same time as you– when talking to your mom and I took a different route–maybe not as severe as your case but major just the same. I felt surrounded by good wishes and prayers but wanted to claim this journey as mine. A personal trek that may lead me to who knows where but I did not want to lose my independence. Others who have gone through similar journeys would tell me they wanted to talk but did not really share their “tips” –but basically I felt I was on my own. Not exactly lonely but feeling the need to dig deeper into myself to fight. Perhaps this mentality of “C” being a personal journey affects everyone’s thinking. Perhaps it is part of the disease. Hang in there and fight like hell.