Bittersweet

I went into work yesterday to prep my cube for my return next week. But I have to say, it was a bit bittersweet.

It was wonderful to see some of my work friends. Tears welled in my eyes several times because I received such a warm welcome and unconditional understanding. I got lots of big hugs and I saw some people I haven't seen since I left work.

But when I was alone and started to clean my cube, a weird feeling washed over me. I nostalgically remembered my B.C. (before cancer) life where I blindly carried on thinking I was almost invincible. I donned a superwoman cape back then. Too bad, tumours hid in its folds.

I had a weird sensation in my stomach when I washed down the phone on which I received the call telling me I had cancer. I sighed with dissapointment when I noticed my calendar was still on April. Dissapointment that I dramatically dissapeared from life as I knew it in mid-April, and I reflected on the hard fight those unflipped months entailed.

I felt a little sadness that I'd lost my B.C. life - when cancer didn't touch my body and soul. For a time when my biggest worry was whether Noah would be suspended from school. A time when I was fit and didn't have a gigantic scar or cringe at every twinge in my abdomen. When I didn't have to worry about a life-threatening illness coming back to wreak havoc with my life and family.

But the good of the visit outweiged the bad because, while I temporarily focused on B.C., I quickly moved back to reality. I'm blessed to have many wonderful, understanding people in my work life who, I have no doubt, will help me ease back in and will accept the new work Tina - a person who goes slower and reflects more than the speed-walking, stress-induced, deadline-driven, Type A individual I used to be. While I'll still care about doing a quality job, I won't take on more than I can handle and I'll carve time out to enjoy each day.

I long for my B.C. life, but I'd want it with all the valuable insights my fight with cancer has given me. Yes, I want my cake and eat it too.

Talking to people yesterday, I realized, I've truly put my cancer in God's hands and am ready to move on. I really mean it when I say I'll see what the CT scan says in three months and deal with it then. I want to live my life as normally as possible until I have to change it.

I know people are sympathetic to the bad news. I saw it in people's eyes yesterday. Please don't feel sorry for me. Feel sorry with me and listen to me rage or cry when the roller coaster dips down, but help me celebrate life every day. I'm going to try avoid wasting too much time feeling sad because I want my life (however long I have - hopefully many, many, many years) to be happy.

Tina

P.S. Oh, in follow up to yesterday's blog, I went bald (which isn't exactly true as I do have very, very short hair) yesterday. I took off my hat when I got hot cleaning my cube and then ran around without it. I even went to the cafeteria sans head covering. It felt weird and I was a bit nervous, but all was fine.

I didn't even get very many stares, which is typical out in public. So I think that's what I'll do at work. But I will have to wear a hat or toque outside as my poor, baldish head gets cold. Brrrr.

Thanks everyone for being supportive and for the compliments on my very short hairstyle. ;)