Lost and floundering

Sometime I sit back and reflect on my cancer journey and marvel at the wonderful discoveries it's allowed me to make about myself, the goodness and generosity in others, and the opportunities to which it's exposed me.

But not all the lessons cancer is teaching me are wonderful. Lately, I've learned some pretty hard things about myself. I'm recently struggling with some of these discoveries and I feel a little lost.

I've always known I like being in control. I've been able to manage my life, my relationships, my family situations and my work. I've always been of the mind that if something is wrong, do what you can to fix it. If you're unhappy in your job, make changes to it or find another one. If you're having trouble in a relationship, talk it out, get counselling or move on.

But this journey has taught me I can't always have control and I can't always take care of everyone. That's hard for me.

So now (and in the future) when I need to relinquish control to others, I don't have the framework from which to operate. I don't know what to do and I haven't given those around me the experience and maybe even, permission, to necessarily do it because I've always taken over. I'm not even sure I know how to learn to let go. I'm working on it and maybe discovering these things will help me learn ways of dealing with it.

But as someone who is a control freak and used to taking care of others, I think about the end of my life and what may happen, and I'm scared by it all. I don't even know how to tell others how to take care of me. What is going to happen when I can't do it? How can I tell people what I need in the end?

I'm used to fixing things, but what if something can't be fixed? I can't fix the cancer in me. I can't fix the way my body reacts to the treatment? I can't control what new and improved treatments are going to come out to help me live longer (or are they)? I can't control the cancer if it takes over and kills me.

I'm also struggling with my beliefs in optimism, good in the world and gettting what you deserve. I believe I'm basically a good person and count on the foundation of goodness in others. I like to look at the world as if the glass is half full. It may be swirling snow and -30C outside, but I can look at how pretty the sun reflects off the snow and be thankful for the fuzzy afghan keeping me warm. In the end, the sun will come out one day and pour sunshine on the world.

When I'm in my chemo fog, and even more specificially, when I was talking to my social worker the other day, I was pretty pessimistic. I'm facing some ugly truths that beat me down and tampered the optimism. These revelations are coming out in this blog and will affect my life now. I know they're not pretty, but that's reality.

This cancer journey has thrown me for a loop. I am feeling down, discouraged and out of control. Sure, my last chemotherapy treatment is done. And as much as I'd like to believe it's all over, I know deep down the cancer is probably going to come back.

As everyone is celebrating, high-fiving and wearing yellow, I'm discouraged. I don't want to be the nay sayer and bring down the mood, but I don't believe cancer is done with me forever. That's a hard thing for an optimistic to believe - and it's probably why I'm struggling so much.

I have no idea what life is going to be like on the Olaparib full time, I don't know how I'll feel and I don't know if it'll work. I really pray it does. I'd like this new and amazing drug to prove me wrong. I'd be more than happy to make the announcement from the roof tops when I'm cancer free and in a long, long remission.

As an optimist and someone who believes you reap what you sow, it's hard to accept the pain and suffering in life. Mind you, I'm lucky because I've borne witness to the fact that if you treat others with dignity and respect, it's bound to circle right back to you. I've reaped far more than I've sown with kindness and generosity by people, who don't expect anything in return. I'm continually amazed and humbled by the giving spirit of others. I wonder why little ol' me deserves so much.

But, we aren't guaranteed a good, happy life with our families and friends. We aren't promised a long life with a wide-range of exciting and pleasurable events. We don't even get the chance to earn it. If we're good all our lives, it doesn't mean bad things won't happen to us. That's a tough lesson to learn.

So where does that leave me? I don't know. I'd like to believe I'm still an optimist, but my eyes and mind have been opened to some of the harsh realities of my situation.

When I saw my social worker, she said I seem tired. I'm so very tired, and that's probably why the optimism sparks aren't lighting anything these days. I know my optimism will return and I'll be able to see the good in situations - maybe differently than before; but this too is reality. For now, I'm just a damp, soggy, tired, scared, lonely soul.

It's part of the journey.

Tina