Tuesdays with Naqvi--Herceptin #23

I'm no doctor, but I think I might be suffering from some kind of post-reconstruction depression.  That's a thing--I'm sure of it.  {Post-operative depression is a real thing, anyway, and I'm labeling my current feelings into the specific category of my surgery.}  The culmination of emotions--sadness, fatigue, no motivation--hit me this weekend, like a major wave of depression and grief.  

So many layers of this process don't get discussed, and it's hard to talk about these feelings.  My purpose in sharing this is not to fish for sympathy, but to be real about the effects of this process on me and my family.  Maybe in sharing, others will be better prepared for the possible difficulties of the process than I was.  I wish I had known more about the layers, upon layers, of emotion and stress ahead-of-time, rather than simply have it hit me head-on.  In addition to just trying to fight everyday to say alive and keep my children alive, I have constantly faced fear, anger, and questions of why it's all happening and frustration about not really knowing how long the whole process will take.  Then, there's the very real pain, sickness, fatigue, and helplessness felt during the grueling process of saving my life by making me mostly dead from the inside out.  {This is the ONE part of the process that was explained pretty well.  It's easy for an oncologist to discuss physical side-effects and to lay out the step-by-step process of treating cancer.  Getting into the psychological and emotional is something completely different.}  I wish someone had prepared me a little better for this being somewhat of a grieving process.  It's like a part of the Me I've always been is gone, and I can't ever have it back.  I have to learn how to live and make the most of things with the new Me, the changed Me, all while trying to be a little better AND hold on to the good parts of the person I've always been.  And, all of this has to be done while being, at times, completely helpless, unable to care for myself, my children, my home, or my life.  The vulnerability and humility needed to rely totally on others can be frustrating.  On top of all of that, then there is an overwhelming sense of guilt in not being able to do all the things I think I should do.  AND, the guilt continues in feeling frustrated and angry, especially when people are just trying to help.  I also feel guilt for feeling upset, sad, or at a loss over my circumstances, especially when there are people dying or losing children or facing a long list of struggles that could be labeled worse than mine.  Who am I to complain, when I'm alive, my children are healthy, and my treatments are working? The cycle of guilt alone can be debilitating.  

My surgical options were basically the lesser of two evils.  I didn't REALLY want to lose my breasts and have my entire body cut apart and sewn back together.  But, radiation would've been worse, especially after the lumpectomy left 1/3 of one of my breasts just gone.  I'm dealing now with relief that I'm healing and starting to return back to my normal level of activity, but feel sadness at the changes, low self-esteem from my current body image, and the realization that I will never be "the same," whatever that means.  Cancer stole away some major parts of my body, and it pisses me off a little.  I don't feel especially attractive.  But, at the same time, I have to remind myself that 1}I'm not fully healed and 2}there's still TWO more procedures to be done before the look is complete.  It's weird that half my body constantly feels like it's "asleep," that tingling sensation you get that you wait to pass.  Well, my entire abdomen and chest feels like that all the time.  I miss the normal nerve-endings I once had.  And, again, the guilt arises for feeling this way, like some selfish brat, complaining when I should be rejoicing in life and the miracle of modern medicine that allows me to have breasts at all instead of flat skin and scars.   

On top of that guilt, I'm sure part of my current emotional health is inluenced by the estrogen-blocking drug I'm currently taking AND the effects of coming off of narcotics after a full 6-weeks of use.  Withdrawls are real.  Messing with hormones is real.  I'm not supposed to be going into early menopause, hormonally, yet still having periods!  It's messed up!  There are real emotional stresses going on right now, combined with the physiological processes of changes in hormone levels and my reaction to dealing with pain "naturally," versus medically, and it's exhausting.  I feel tired all the time, but can't seem to get the restorative sleep I'm desperately seeking, between discomfort and probably stress.  Not sleeping contributes to the feelings of frustration, having a short fuse, not feeling like myself, and then--you guessed it--the guilt from THOSE actions arises.  

I haven't even mentioned the suffocating stress surrounding the financial burden.  We are doing everything we can to stay afloat, but the bills are real.  And, we have other financial obligations that are made MORE stressful by these unexpected medical bills.  It's hard to deal with the practical when you're simply trying to survive cancer.

We've had so many wonderful people helping us, but that can be exhausting, too.  When you feel like your house is not your house because you're living under a microscope of houseguets for 2 months, that can also feel suffocating.  And, of course, you feel guilty for feeling annoyed and frustrated and just wanting your own life and your own way of doing things and to walk around the house in your underwear if you want back.  Like I said, I'm ETERNALLY grateful for all the help, but there comes a point when you just need your own life back!  

One of the hardest things in this is having to let go of so many things I WANT to do, but just CAN'T.  And now I think I might have let go of so many things that I may have lost my desire to do anything in the process.  My house isn't decorated for fall, let alone Halloween.  And I have no desire to do it.  We won't be having our annual toga party this year, and part of me is relieved.  Me!?!  Excited about NOT having a party!?!  If I hadn't already promised the boys their Halloween costumes, I might just forget about the whole thing.  Again....who IS this person?!?  I know Evan's birthday is right around the corner, and I am not.at.all.motivated to do a thing for it.  I think I'm stuck in limbo between having to do less and be okay with it or just not doing anything at all--because doing what I WANT to do at this point is out of the question.  And, there's guilt involved in that.  If I don't make holidays and birthdays special for my kids, who will?  If I don't get excited about doing things, they certainly aren't going to.  And, the guilt extends beyond just our home life and holidays.  I haven't *really* been able to do much in my calling at church in the Young Women organization.  They'd be better off without me, because they're having to do "my jobs" anyway.  Why give me the title when I'm not doing it?  I know I'd be more frustrated at having someone in there who's NOT doing anything than not having someone at all.  And, I feel guilty about that.  

I guess I just need to come to a point where I can give myself a break.  I need to realize that these feelings are real and many of them are probably justified.  I'm sure I give myself a MUCH harder time than anyone else is going to, so I need to let go of a lot of the guilt I feel.  And, then, I just need to get up and try everyday to do a little more and be a little better and get closer to becoming the person I want to be.  Isn't that pretty much a description of how everyone should be living life?  Maybe I should start by putting out a pumpkin or two.  And being okay if that's all that comes out before the Christmas tree.