I really, really should get to sleep
But I don't want to put my head to the pillow and end up crying again. It will wake Ben, and he needs sleep as much as I do, especially with the challenges ahead.
I used to love sleeping, still would if I hadn't gone through 10 years of disturbed sleep thanks to my children, if I hadn't experienced the torture of being woken repeatedly when I was just sinking into sleep, and long-denied dreams.
I was starting to sleep well again last year, until Dad passed away, then I stayed awake for as long as I could because I didn't want to have to try to go to sleep, I didn't want to succumb to my grief. It's become the new normal for me: Stay awake until it hurts my eyes so much that I struggle to keep them awake, but then push on a bit longer because it feels like there might be tears there, then go to sleep when the prickly feeling has passed.
Cancer sucks, shit happens, life's a bitch.
Or
Cancer happens, shit is necessary for eliminating waste, life's a gift.
?
I'll take the latter. I don't want to have cancer, but in the scheme of things, a grade II invasive ductal carcinoma with possible lymph involvement but no secondaries isn't a bad way to go. Lungs, liver, pancreas, or more advanced breast or cervical cancer would be worse.
I'll get through this, I've felt as if I've been swept up on a wave of love this last week. My heart, being fearful, was initially shocked at all the love and support that people have given, but now it's opened and is blossoming in joy. It's a wonderful feeling, and I feel an immense gratitude to all the people who have written words of support.
If love is the most powerful force in the universe, then I'm feeling it, and giving it back to every living thing. It's a beautiful feeling.
I once had an experience where I felt like I was a tiny drop of water in an endlessly tall waterfall which started in the clouds and fell through the sky in a ceaseless cascade. I knew that the waterfall represented every person, every creature, every thing that had ever existed, and that we were all part of an infinite, interconnected, interrelated stream of life. There was love and joy and a relentless motion and recombination of the water particles in the torrent. Fear and suffering were just distractions at the side, the torrent was all about love, joy, and the fundamental interconnectedness of all living things.
I wouldn't choose this cancer for myself. It is totally unfair that my life, and that of my family and friends, is going to be disrupted by a treatment that will make me feel worse than I do at the moment. But I'm already enriched by the love of others, and I hope to be able to grow and give more love as I pass along this path.
The prickly feeling is gone now. I'll see if I can sleep.
Wishing much love and peace to every living thing.
A blog started in 2013 to inform family and friends about my treatment and progress for early breast cancer. Then I went and got two brain tumours,,both GBMs, completely unrelated to the breast cancer, so the blog continues.
Background and overview
I learnt more about the health system from being an inpatient than I had in 20 years of working as a neuropsychologist. I was unexpectedly diagnosed with two brain tumours on 4/9/13. They turned out to be grade IV Gliomas (glioblastoma multiforme (GBM)). After removal of the right parietal and left occipital tumours, I received the standard treatment under the Stupp protocol (combined Temozolamide (TMZ) and conformal radiotherapy 5 days/week for 6 weeks), but the TMZ had to be ceased after 5 weeks because I had started to develop pancytopenia, where more than one of my blood counts had begun to drop. By Christmas 2013, I had become anaemic and needed a couple of blood transfusions. I ended up in hospital for 3 weeks of the 2014 new year after experiencing my first seizure (suggestive of a right temporal lobe focus) on 31/12/13). They were so worried about my bone marrow, they did a biopsy. Luckily, it was all clear of any nasty disorders. It had just been suppressed by the TMZ My blood counts slowly returned to normal with daily injections of GCSF, which stimulate bone marrow function, for several months. For 17 months I was doing better each day, without any physical impairments or major cognitive problems A third brain tumour was found in the right temporal lobe on 2/1/15, and removed 6/1/15, only to reappear on 17/2/15 after I started to feel vague symptoms at the end of 2014. I had my 4th round of brain surgery on 1/3/15, followed by stereotaxic radio surgery of a residual, inoperable, tumour, on 17/4/15. I've been feeling like my old self again since that highly precise form of radiotherapy, and it feels fabulous.
My way of coping.
I choose to live in hope that everything will work out for the best. I've learnt that even though things are sometimes unpleasant, life and love go on forever. I put my faith in the life force that created and unites us all in love, across all time, space, and dimensions. I refuse to succumb to fear, which is an invention of our imaginations. There are an infinite number of things to fear, both in this world an in our imaginations, and most of them never eventuate. I choose not to dwell on them, and to focus instead on counting my many blessings, current and past, and to have faith and hope that if I look after the present moment, the future will look after itself.
If you're reading, and haven't been in touch, please don't be shy, send me a brief private message using the contact form on the right. It's nice to know who's out there. Blogging can leave me feeling a little isolated at times (I used to have recurrent dreams of being out on a limb over a canyon, or of starting to strip off in a crowded waiting room). Your emails are appreciated, although I can't necessarily answer all of them.
