My group therapy is winding down. I was supposed to be finished, but during my last session I was called to a final meeting with the psychiatrist and unexpectedly couldn't handle it. I cried my eyes out about my current situation. I'd realized I'd been exceptionally angry, I guess without knowing what was behind it. The headaches, the nausea, the fear, the steroid bloating, the lack of control over my existence. I needed the cry, but the result was the decision that I needed to actually deal with the cancer for once instead of parenting. Of course my health insurance would only pay for two more visits, and one of those was today. I did not take advantage of whatever I was supposed to do, I dealt with other parenting issues. The anger makes parenting difficult, and brain cancer makes parenting difficult, and I'm making some mistakes I don't like.
I love my daughter. From the second she was born there was a bond like no other. I couldn't take my eyes or my fingers off of her. Everything about her reflected perfection, and for two years I thought she was perfect. She's not. Far from it. And yet I love her and I will until the day I die. Who knows: maybe if I didn't worship her we'd have a relationship. That's part of my crazy, I guess. I want to know she'll be okay when I'm gone. No regrets. And I can't assure it. It makes me angry.
Waiting makes me crazy, bad traffic makes me crazy, slow people make me crazy. But Wegman's makes me happy, especially when they have rotisserie chicken soup and my throat is sore. I want to do lots of things, but without a big giant round face. I miss looking like me. And I miss reading.
Having cancer in my brain is so weird. I feel irrational, but I think I'm scattered just because I'm trying to figure it all out. I function like normal except for feeling tired and weak. I'm very much enjoying my rest, but all the same I'm pushing myself to get extra things done. Especially during this holiday season. I get a light headache on occasion, and heartburn and nausea if I miss my steroid by even an hour. The biggest problem is the worry of the something new and the unknown. Really, I need to lighten up and I just don't know how.
Could you please tell me what I need to do? I want to get everything perfect and I want to get strong. How do I do that?
Half-marathon for breast cancer with Jill in Jacksonville
Renee and I on vacation in Florida
My family :)
Ken, Jason, Lori, Jill, me, Jonah, Allison, Esther. Civia got cut off, and her mom took the picture!
My "new hair"
This is what it looks like when you get chemo. Exciting stuff.
Purple Mama on Chemo Eve, 3/5/09
Heading to Target, 2/2/09
Friday, January 23
About Me
- Michelle Friedman
- I'm a mom of 3 terrific kids, wife of an occasional saint. I AM a breast cancer survivor.
2 comments:
There is no "perfect" and those who think or act like they are... when you think about it, are pretty boring people with boring lives. If you told me you were a perfect parent I wouldn't believe you anyway so pick it up off your shoulders and set it aside...My two teenage girls are real good for telling how I have failed them throughout their lives...and i take it real bad at times. Then I smack myself in the head and realized it's their own fears and uncertainties that make them lash out on us....and it's always the moms that get it. The one who has lived and breathed for them since they came into the world. Please Michelle takes those worries and throw them out the darn door and concentrate on fighting that damn cancer!! Your daughter will figure it out someday. I prayer for you and your family all the times and pray you find your peace.. And I hate that you have brain cancer!!!
Thank you, Angela. Your daughters seem lovely! We have our band girls :)
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