Stories about cancer
Stories about cancer
That’s it! We’re breaking up!
Zapper of strength,
You cannot define me anymore.
I am not some person to control.
I found the key.
I removed the chains.
No, I will not forgive you.
No you may not take anything with you.
What’s mine, is mine.
You have nothing but yourself.
Loneliness you cause, loneliness you are.
Selfish behavior will no longer get you anywhere.
I am tired of the messes left all over my house.
The capability to clean up after yourself is absent.
Disaster is your middle name.
This is my house and I am kicking you out.
Everything in my house stays.
May you never experience mercy.
May you never grow.
May you die alone.
Do not ever come back!
It is over!
I dont know how to say this so here it goes.
Lift up praise to our Heavenly Father.
If I didnt fight to have a partial hysterectomy, things could have been worse. I listened to the spirit and I kept saying over and over to doctors,”get them out, they are killing me!” It was denied, then my doctor got it approved through a peer to peer conversation with the health insurance doctor. Finally, those ovaries were removed, along with the tubes and uterus. The pathology report came back with mets breast cancer infiltrating my ovaries. With clean tubes, uterus, and cervix.
I fought and listened to my body, not anyone else. I listened. That is the only way to survive people. You have to know yourself, know your feelings, know discernment, and act.
I dont know what all this means as far as medicine is concerned, but I think it means no changes. I believe I am winning.
Pet scans can’t see tumors until they are a certain size. Instincts and feelings told me to get those little killers out.
Do not ever let anyone tell you trusting feelings are wrong. Trusting a feeling is the first thing you should always do!!!!! They are the first line of defense….not your brain! Relying on your brain is like relying on your ego.
In short, I got some cancer out, praise the Lord for the gift of the holy spirit and the knowledge to listen.
Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. The five stages of grief. This is what happens with a diagnosis of cancer, except it never stops. As long as you are fighting, the five creep in and they never stop rotating in no such pattern.
Living with cancer is like living in a constant near death experience. It isn’t all bad, but when you are in this state, you begin to see the true colors of every one around you and all you want to do is tell people that they are not who they think they are. People hold on to experiences as if it is their identity, never understanding to let go. Never realizing they are for more bigger than they are. Yes we are one in a trillion, but not in the sense of who we really are. When the mistakes and the choices, whether good or bad, are peeled away, we are all the same. Just a temple holding a spirit inside.
The one thing that is scary about living like this is you can see a persons true colors. How they have let this world mold themselves. There are some beautiful people in the world and there are some very dark people. Those dark people are the ones that need a person who understands the strength of weaknes. They need to know the truth. They need to come off their soap box. They need a person who knows that there is more than this life. They need to know that their darkness and weakness can be turned into their strength.
I may sound crazy, but things are revealed to me that only a few will see. I get very freaked out so freaked I have anxiety attacks. I find myself thinking I would be better off out if this world about 5% of the time because I can bear witness to the beauty that awaits. 95% of the time I feel that I need to be here because I have to tell and help people remember where beauty resides. Some of you already know, but others do not. I want to be here to share my testimony. That is what keeps me going and of course my family.
Long Day for this girl. My surgery was switched from Women’s Gateway to St. Mary’s Hospital. The hospital that gave me the wrong medicine when I wound up in cardiovascular ICU. Apparently, the anesthesiologist is to scared to do it at the Women’s Hospital at Deaconess. So back to St. Mary’s. I was pretty verbal about this and quite clear that I can not have certain medicines and that I have told them this before and they completely ignored my request for proper medication, thus ending up having my ICD fire 16 times in one night. It is quite possible I could make the last time into a lawsuit. I’m at the least contacting the customer complaint and billing department. I just it makes me feel rude to do contact them. But, they need to know.
The good thing, as usual my doctor is a good doctor. It is always the pharmacy and staff that are screwing my medicine up. She is going to have the list on hand and make all appropriate measures to ensure I am given the correct medicine. Still, I will have double the anxiety on Tuesday, so they better dope me up good. This is a big step for me to trust St. Mary’s.
So surgery on Tuesday.
Then Wednesday, I have an allergy prick test for food allergies so I can my eating habits under control. I’m sick of allergy issues after I eat.
I swear, I am so freaking sick of medical issues. I never get the flu or any type of virus.No No, I get the big crap. On top of that, I’m one of the healthy ones. I was going to do a dang triathlon. Ugh! How retarded life can be. Cancer is stupid.
Signing up for Group Kick (which is basically kick boxing) starting this week. Been swimming three times a week. Haven’t got on my bike, but will soon. I need the seat changed. I’m not sure when I will run again. I may not be able to do it ever again. But, no one said I have to run the 5k in a sprint triathlon. All I want is a finisher medal. I don’t have to win. And seriously, I want to start kick boxing because honestly, I feel like kicking the hell out of the air. I just want to KICK! I AM NOT SICK!!!!!!!!!! I am just at a week point.
Day 1 of 6th round of chemo.
As most of you know I write a lot. I was looking back at some of my spirals notebooks, My first thought is,”What? Holy Moly! I wrote that?” I apparently am an inspiration to myself and didn’t even know it. It is as if, I read what I wrote in the past and I can’t stop reading. All I can think is, I need to write a book because this is good stuff.
I don’t even remember writing some of the stuff. It is as if I am reading it for the first time. It is breath taking some of the things I write. I find myself with my hand over my heart as I read. Literally breathtaking.
Writing was never meant for me. I always have others in mind. I just assumed none of this was for me. But it was. It was for me and everyone. I have a hard time thinking that I can actually make a difference. I just wanted everyone else to realize that they can make a difference.
I’m not trying to be boastful, I am more surprised at myself. I really am my own inspiration. It is as if I never truly believed that I have the capability of being inspirational. People tell me I am. But, I had to figure it out myself to believe it.
Honestly, sometimes I even say, “I couldn’t have wrote that, that wasn’t me.It is in my own hand writing yet I will even close the notebook and examine the front to make sure it is mine.
I often wonder; are these words a compilation of letters to myself reminding me that inspiration begins with a good thought. It is amazing, what just a little inspiration can do. Just one person, can make a difference and that person could be you or me.
Have an inspirational day. ~Jenny
The chemo pills make me feel wigged out. It is as if for the first 4-7 days on, I am fine. Then all of a sudden I am wigged out. Like I am withdrawn from the world, kind of like withdrawals from life.
Then I stop taking it and I feel fine for 3-4 days.
Then I feel like I am in withdrawals from chemo and I get wigged out. Like everything hurts, my eyes feel like they are popping out of their sockets, and my hair stands on end….wigged out.
I don’t know how long I can keep this routine. I am lucky to get 6 good days out of this 21 day cycle.
Then I think this cell eating medicine is making me sick and better at the same time. Isn’t therapy supposed to be a good thing? Yes. So putting chemo with the word therapy is really weird. Because chemo sucks and that means I am getting suckytherapy and that my friends is an oxymoron.
I guess chemotherapy is a blessing hidden under an oxymoron. At least, I am getting better and that is definitely a blessing.
I do not want to start again on Monday, but I will. Because I still have a will to survive and I have a bunch of stuff I have to do. Anyone want to bike across a state with me?
I can’t wait to take hormone therapy and that is weird to say.
I am having trouble with what to write for the past couple of days. Sometimes, it is really hard to stay positive and that is what this blog is all about. You know?
The other day, I caught myself day dreaming. My thought was, “What if cancer is just a really bad strain of the flu?” “If it is, surely there will be a vaccine for this in my lifetime.” Sigh.
Chemo makes me so tired at the end of a cycle, it changes my brain. I’m in a day dream fog. Just three more days. Lesson learned the past couple of days; do not plan anything because more than likely there will be no energy to do anything.
Oy vey (hitting my forehead), I have an appointment at Bob’s Gym tomorrow morning for a fitness review. (Sucking it up) I’m still going. I need motivation.
I am unmotivated and that drives me crazy, I have to remember not to expect a lot out of myself during the second week of chemo. One step at a time, one step at a time, one step at a time. I am being forced to slow down. If you know me, you have to know that I am going crazy under my skin!!! I think I am going to scream in my pillow now. Sickness makes you get to know yourself in ways only a survivor can understand. Just three more days.
Here is something positive. I read in a book called A Year of Living Biblically.
Get it? It is how to pray or meditate or whatever. This book is both hilarious and honest.
Hugging myself and sending hugs to you.