Antarctica…

It’s probably best that no one ask me to explain that title.  I can’t even explain it to myself.

I am in another gearing up phase now, only this time it is gearing up for chemo.

I don’t really know how to prepare for that, which is a problem for me.  A big one.

There are so many things happening at one time, and so many demands (as usual) being placed upon me, that I am starting to crack.  Sure, I go talk to my counselor guy once each week — or I did when I could still drive.  It helps, at the same time as it doesn’t help.  Outside of prayer, nothing seems to help.

I feel like a child: dependent upon others to have my needs met.  Yesterday I maneuvered a way through a shower without assistance because I had been asking for help with a shower for two hours and couldn’t get it to happen because it was just too busy around here.  Doing it on my own meant it took an entire hour, and I was extremely tired by the time I was done.  On the bright side, I was clean. 🙂  Today is another example: my doctor switched my appointment so that Becky could not drive me to it.  I had to find a ride.  Fortunately, today was one of those rare days that my Mom was not totally over-scheduled with lunches, etc.  I just have to go to her reconstructive surgeon for her appointment, right before we go to my reconstructive surgeon for my appointment.  What a bloody family we are!

All this dependency crap?  I hate it!  Really — hate it passionately, in a fiery way.  I am not made for this.  And I hate feeling like a burden when I hear all the complaints arising from the fact that I really can’t/shouldn’t do anything.  Logically, I know that complaining is just venting, but it messes me up anyway.  Finally, I find my inner, uber-complicated femme chick.  Great.

As far as my feelings, well, I guess I am going to be a cliche: no one really understands.  Except that isn’t entirely true.  There’s this new community of women who understand EXACTLY.  Some have read my blog, some read my twitter page, and reach out to tell me their stories.  I am slowly growing to understand that I am a part of THAT community: the cancer “victim”/cancer “ass kicker” community.  And it’s a good thing.  Running right along behind that is the major contradictory feeling of being a damn statistic.  Again.

From birth to death, how many statistics am I going to be part of?  It’s annoying because, dammit, I am special and shouldn’t fit any category.  Then again, so are we all.

I suppose it is time for me to reach out to those strangers who have been where I am, or are here with me now.  I know the feeling of isolation can’t possibly be healthy, and I know for certain that it is not accurate or true – I have so many people ready to lift me up that I can’t possibly be alone in all of this.  And yet, mentally and emotionally, there’s just this part of me locked in ice and as alone as I can be.

When that feeling takes over, fear wins.  And I know that the only option here is for ME to win: not fear, not cancer, not chemo.

Until later (for instance, after my doctor’s appointment), blessings to you all…

My great hope for today is that the Doc takes these damn drains out this afternoon!

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