The day after

I feel broken - emotionally, physically and spirtually. Like a boat that's been battered by the tempest of the sea, I've survived to make it to the eye of the hurricane; only to learn the another side of the storm is yet to come.

Yesterday I experienced a multitude of cycling emotions. Angie, Michael and I were all deeply shocked when we learned the cancer was back. We were hoping for good news and went into the appointment with high hopes that my symptoms were due to something less serious.

Then I felt angry at the injustice of my situation. Sadness hit next, along with determination to fight. Fear, anxiety and a whole bunch of yet unnamed feelings also took their turns in my mind. I now waffle around among the emotions. One second I'll feel like crying and then next I'm full of steely determination. I'm sure these feelings will settle down, but for now I'm a bit of a basket case.

Physically, I feel like a leper. I feel dirty and unworthy with these stupid tumours in my abdomen. I also feel betrayed by my body. Despite my best efforts to fight and destroy the cancer, and my will to keep it away, the horrible tumours came back. The small, microscopic bits of sand, joined together to form sand castles in my open pelvic cavity.

In one small way (and this is little comfort), I feel justified that I wasn't imagining the bloating, rib pain and pressure, heartburn and all the strange sensations. Oh, I was praying it was part of the new me, but deep down, I've known something wasn't quite right for about a month now.

It scares me that the cancer has returned with such a vengeance in such a short period of time. The tumours are bigger than the initial ones. My CT scan showed nothing worth noting at the end of January, Yet the one from May 20 showed full blown, nasty masses. Hopefully, they'll shrink just as quickly when I start zapping them with the chemotherapy. Quick to grow, quick to shrink? I hope so.

Spiritually, the foundation of my faith suffered a tremor yesterday. Yes, I know God didn't give me cancer and He doesn't just take it away, but I feel a bit betrayed by the unfairness of the situation. I am a good, faithful, honourable, lovable person who deserves to live. But then again, aren't many people? Why am I any different? Because I'm me, my subconscious screams. It's not rational, I know. But I don't feel all that logical right now, so I may not act that way.

I know my faith is strong. I know it'll give me comfort in the months ahead. But I'm a bit angry at God right now. (But that doesn't mean I want you to give up on your prayers. I'm still praying. I still believe.)

I know this blog may be hard to read. I can appreciate no one really knows what to say or do. If it's any consolation, neither do I. But I do appreciate everyone who has contacted me to offer comfort and ask if they can help. I am so very, very grateful for all the special people in my life. Right now, I can't think of anything I need, except for support and maybe some hugs. I'm waiting for the appointment with the doctor in Hamilton to hear about our plan of attack.

I am at work today. I didn't want to simply disappear again. It felt wrong the last time, so I didn't want to repeat it. I honestly don't know some of my next steps. I'm fumbling in the dark to find my way. Maybe if you could hold out your arms to catch me if I fall, I'll make it through okay.

Your battered friend,
Tina