Now that I have some endorphins coursing through my body, bent the ear of some sympathetic friends and was given a logical explanation of why I feel completely irrational, I can now shove Mr. Hyde back into the dark space from which he came.
A friend's email reminded me some cancer survivors experience post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), not only from the actual diagnosis but from the series of treatments and events associated with cancer. In fact, my social worker and I have discussed this phenomenon a couple of times.
To be diagnosed with PTSD, a person must have experienced a traumatic life event where:
- The person experienced, witnessed, or was confronted with an event where there was the threat of/or actual death or serious injury. The event may also have involved a threat to the person's physical well-being or the physical well-being of another person.
- The person responded to the event with strong feelings of fear, helplessness, or horror.
Check and check.
PTSD in cancer survivors may be expressed in these specific behaviors:
- Reliving the cancer experience in nightmares or flashbacks and by continuously thinking about it.
- Avoiding places, events, and people connected to the cancer experience.
- Being continuously overexcited, fearful, irritable and unable to sleep.
While I try not think about the cancer and its chance of recurrence, I know deep down, it's often in the back of my head. Every twinge makes me wonder. I'm fearful and sometimes irritable. I take lorazepam to help me sleep.
In addition, I've been talking about mastectomies, my mom's cancer and my upcoming appointment for a CT scan to re-examine those shadowy spots that appeared on my last scan.
To top it off, my social worker and I started a new treatment on Tuesday where I mentally re-lived the phone call where I learned I had cancer, and the feelings and thoughts associated with that. So technically, I was relieving my diagnosis.
So now that I understand why I feel like a freaking mess, I'm better able to deal with it. I appreciate your tolerance and understanding. Maybe tonight I'll turn whine into wine. Doesn't that sound better?
Tina
how about... whine into wine, in a tub full of bubbles, with the lights out, the door closed AND locked so you don't have to be mom or Mrs Bratscher. Tell the family you are not to be disturbed, distracted, bothered, door knocked upon for an hour. Let Mike go play his guitar and if the kids need to fight, scream, cry, knock each others block off,,, then let them, but don't get out of that tub. The world will seem a better place...
ReplyDelete(if they ask why,, tell them because "Diane said so and they don't want ba-tee-neh if they cross me!!) hahaha
always thinking of you girly.
xoxo