Fran's Journal Fran's Journey of Hope

Since last Thursday I have felt the surreal, “this is all detached from me” emotion slowly melt. Now there is a sense of deep sadness and a desire to cry. Cry about what? Anything and everything! I am grieving for what I have lost and may still to lose. It feels like a person close to me has died. I cry if I hear something sad that has happpened to someone else. The cat was sick on the weekend and needed to have leg abscess drained, and I cried. I have lain in bed this morning feeling sad because I am off to start chemo again today. I cry because I am worn out wondering how I can keep facing this chemo. I cry because it is hard to accept that I may die and leave Mike (and everyone else too), just when our lives are the most contented and positive. I cry because there is a new manger in the position that I was hoping to have, but cant because I not reliable enough to work full time at the moment. I cry because there are such exciting opportunities at work for building up the company, that I have dreamed of over the past year and now I cant do them. I cry because every moment of the day I have a bad taste in my mouth, that no food tastes the same, that all food repulses me, that I don’t have the drive to go out and walk the dog every day. I just wish Icould feel like I used to. Not feel tired, not feel nauseated, not have to plan my day around managing side effects, not have to be a slave to tablets, not see handfuls of hair fall out every time I touch my head. I wish I could go out and do some retail therapy. But do I really need any possessions. Why collect more meaningless things just to feel good. Where’s a nice glass of wine and cheese platter? Yuk! I cry because I don’t have the motivation to make Mike’s lunchand juice in the morning, nor cook his meals. I feel like I am bludging and that he has to put up with all my crap not through any fault of his own. Icry because the house is a mess, but I don’t really care. I could just sit and let life pass me by. Why fight?

The down is that a side effect of the Xeloda is excess tear production. While that sounds like I could cry easier, it actually is the opposite. My eyes feel dry, crusty all the time and when I go to cry it physically hurts all around the eyes!!

The exciting thing is this is part of acceptance and healing.

I don’t tell you this for pity. I don’t want you to treat me with kid gloves. I don’t want you to walk on egg shells with me. I want to hear your crap. I want to know what matters to you. I want to be able to encourage and get beside you when things trouble or get you down. I want life to go on. This is healing. It is an important step for me to pass through. And I will pass through it. I am not depressed or suicidal. Nor have I given up. I think that for 3 months I have had to go on emotionally, mentally and physically in the strongest way that I could to survive. My body just wants me to give it an easy time.

Many great friends have reminded me to get “me” time. I will and must do that. It is a bit of a chore trying to organise it. Rick is going to write a letter for me so that I can organise a regular massage. I think that will help me in relieving the head, neck and back tension that hangs on. I am searching for a masseur that will come to the home. That will not do the alternative therapy preaching stuff, cos I am not in to that, and for a masseur that will be skilled enough not to do damage. So that is a task to develop a rapport with someone that I will only meet over the phone initially. There was someone but as she will have to travel an hour to get to me, she is going to charge the earth, so I am trying to find an alternative.

I do still see my psychologist, but with Christmas coming up I have the next appointment in January. I know that if I crash she will make additional time in her schedule to see me at short notice, but I don’t want to abuse that privilege.

So that means I have all my wonderful family and friends to debrief to. I find it hard to ring people and dump tings. I don’t want to make others feel sad. I appreciate that everyone else has the same lot of baggage that they carry. I know that their baggage is their reality and IS just as important as mine is to me. I don’t want to wear others out. This might be a bit of a long journey and I need all the resources I can get to travel. I need to find the strength within myself as well.

Then I get on to this website and see all the amazing people who have taken time out to send a message. This makes me cry as it is overwhelming the love that others give. It carries me, it empowers me. It fills me with a sense of hope. I am ever thankful. I have to do this. How ungrateful I must sound. What a whinger.

God is ever near and is my strength. This is all possible.