I’ve been quiet for some time on here. I mean, obviously I have my hands full….but it has been more due to the fact that I have been unable to express coherent thoughts and less about finding the time to write. My brain and emotions have been going a mile a minute, probably more, these past few weeks. I’ve had some really bad days as of late. You see, I had mastered the art of tunnel vision over the past several months, and consequently, was able to function on a fairly normal basis. Focus on today. This week. What drugs and side effects to watch for right this second. Don’t look ahead. Danger, I said DO NOT look ahead. And of course, being the stubborn virgo that I am, the second I consciously told myself NOT to look ahead is when the blinders that I had been so comfortably wearing flew off and all the walls I had built around me came crashing down. That’s part of the problem with trying to stay in the moment: it only lasts for so long, and the moment you step out into all the possibilities of the future in terms of having a child with cancer, you lose it.
I’ve always considered myself a fairly strong person, and have been complimented as such recently given how I am “holding up.” The truth of the matter is, I’m not. Leaving the house, interacting with people I have put on the smile and the strength act. “Elena is doing so well…” “She is such a trooper…” I focus on her, and all the good news I can and skirt around the questions of how I’m doing through all of this the best that I can. I talk about the blinders and the focus on today and smile. Because what else can I really do? The bottom line, Elena IS doing amazingly well, all this considered. I actually feel guilty when I talk to someone about my concerns and worries because I know that deep down, things could be so much worse. I’M in a constant state of fear and panic that any second everything can change, but I can’t vocalize that on a daily basis. So instead, I pretend to be grateful for how well Elena is doing. And deep down, I am. I know how bad it could be right now. BUT….at the end of the day, Elena has cancer. That is NOT something I am grateful for.
I am up all hours of the night, looking at the memories of her life that we have created thus far. Flipping through photo albums and going on Facebook clicking on picture after picture of the life she had, the life we all had before cancer fucked it up. I cry and cry and cry and shake and scream into the pillows next to me. I’ve sat down at my desk to write out bills that I’m running out of money for and my eyes well up with tears because I don’t care. I don’t care about my Discover payment, or when my car payment is due. It’s so mundane and obsolete and I couldn’t care less. In fact, it makes me angry. I have curled up on my sofa, spacing out to “Kendra on Top” filling my brain with useless shit in hopes that tonight, this time, I will get some sleep.
Several days ago, I wanted the entire world to hurt with me…even for just a second. I don’t know why. I truly don’t wish this on any child, on any parent or family. My problem is that once those stupid blinders came off and the tunnel vision faded, the only thought I have been able to focus on is Elena relapsing. It actually terrifies me that she is doing so well right now. I mean, this is cancer, right? If we go through this and she comes out on top, with little to no side effects….it was too easy right? I know, I know…I’m not even going to write what I know you are thinking, because whatever it is, good or bad in response to that thought, I’ve already said to myself.
Tunnel vision. Blinders. The tools that allow me to function and focus. Today. This week. The drugs and side effects of this moment….
Anyone have some super glue?