Yesterday, I was home alone for the first time in a very long time; Curtis was at work and Jackson at school. For a majority of the day, I cried. No seriously, I cried most of the day. I cried about everything that was on my heart. I cried because I was sad, unhappy, feeling helpless and hopeless. I was fatigued like never before, body ached beyond words – deep bone aches. It was painful to think about my life and imagine what the next steps were; they all seemed to be leaning in a downward direction of grave discomfort. I was sad and for whatever reason could not find my footing to support myself to get beyond this painful and hurtful space I was in. This chemotherapy treatment of three weeks on, one week off is not sustainable for much longer – I state this as I am in the middle of cycle 2 infusion 2. I have not cried so hard nor felt the depth of pain that arose as I cried. Crying is one way to literally refresh oneself – It can be seen as a way to off load unnecessary burden that is weighting one down. Yesterday was a dark day for me. I felt paralyzed in my pain. I was not sure how to become unstuck. I reached out to a few individuals, via text, to share my current condition. I am not sure what I was hoping in reply other than to validate my feelings assuring me this was totally normal.
When Curtis arrived home from work, he walked in to see a sad wifey curled up on the sofa. My husband loves me so much, it is amazing. We both talked and cried together – then we moved forward. This morning, my husband made me the most thoughtful wall hanging, brought me breakfast in bed, and cleaned the house! See – I have an AWESOME husband. I love you Curtis and know that I could not be walking this journey the way I am without you by my side; you are my strength, biggest fan, and love me deeply.
I have four brothers, 1 older the rest younger. This illness I carry, breaks my brothers’ hearts. As adults, they have developed soft tender souls and spirits – especially for their sister. I like to tease them – “you are all just a bunch of pussies!” Walking this journey of cancer for over four years, some of my brothers have difficulty even looking me in the eye, because they begin to cry – they love me and cannot imagine this is really happening. My oldest brother David is perhaps the worst offender. Very little eye contact or the tears will begin to flow. I find this quite lovely and it touches my heart in a special place. Well, yesterday as I established Cry Christina Cry day – I send David a text. Now keep in mind, he and I rarely directly communicate, it is typically through his wife, so this was special. I poured out my broken heart to him and waited for a response. I am not sure why I chose him, but I followed my intuition. Below is what he wrote back:
To It hurts my heart you are feeling weak and broken. Not so much the feeling the physical side of things but the mental and emotional part. At this point short of praying I don't think there's much i can do to impact anything physical. As far as the mental part goes I have a better chance....maybe. I fully acknowledge my experiences on which I base my thoughts pale in comparison to what you are dealing with. These are more like principles I guess. Hopefully they'll extrapolate into something useful for you. It's always hardest when we feel alone to try and be optimistic. Then The discouragement sets in which uses up all our mental resources so instead of focusing on the things that can bring us peace we get into a spiral of doom. Frankly as you have battled this fucking disease I have focused praying for you and your family to have peace. Maybe it's because of the things I'm exposed to at work, maybe it's because of my level of faith that God has a plan for us that we sometimes can't understand. I know more than anything else I wish for peace. Not the war type of peace but that calmness which comes when we clearly see the truly important things. If we focus on those things our perspective changes. Things that are just things become less of a focus. I know your body may be broken and betraying you but I don't think your soul is broken. When we have peace our bodies gain strength and else end up doing better. Hopefully that helps or at least doesn't make anything worse. I will keep praying. Let me know what you want or need. I love you and am totally flabbergasted by How you've faced this challenge. (David Morse, 2015)
After carefully reading each word – searching for something that would help me in this moment of being lost…there it was! What he wrote was perfect; it was exactly what I needed to be reminded of. He was right – my soul is not broke, but yes, my body was failing me. I believe with every piece of my being that there are no accidents in our lives. I know that my intuition to reach out to David, as ridiculous as I thought of the idea at the time – because he has mastered avoidance like nobody’s business, he provided me just what I needed. Speak our desires into the universe and she will respond. So to my big brother – thank you for knowing what to say, in the moment I needed it. I love you and know that I see you – and understand that your heart breaks for me. I too know that you believe I have strength to continue to walk this journey with grace – and I intend to do exactly this. Thank you Davey – for loving me and sharing a piece of your heart.
Today was Cycle 2 session 2 – next Thursday will be the last in this cycle. Where my treatment goes from there is up for discussion and plans are being discussed. I must always remember that quality of life is #1 to me – above all else. I am so happy my friend Vicki was by my side and even came over a bit early to see me. Even though I was still in bed, she didn’t think twice and jumped on into my big bed with tons of pillows and lay there with me as we just chatted prior to my chemo infusion. I love you Vicki Bern – you are a special woman. There are hopefully some new and exciting things to come in the near future – for now, please continue sending positive healing thoughts, energy, and prayers.
Today, I am hopeful~