Unrealistic expectations

I'm frustrated again. It doesn't seem to take much. I guess my expectations are too high. Or I'm just so hopeful for improvements that any setback leaves me feeling down.

I woke up this morning with a doozy of a headache, a little dizziness and what feels like a head cold. "No," my inner voice screamed. I'm not supposed to be sliding backwards down the "I feel good" staircase. I'm supposed to keep climbing a step every day, feeling better and better until I have to go to treatment again.

Boy am I unrealistic. Even the healthiest of people don't feel good every day. Then I have the complications of dropping blood counts, a compromised immune system and a body that's been battered around by chemotherapy for the past six and a half months. And here I feel disappointed that each day I'm not better, stronger, faster, like some superhero or Steve Austin (the Six Million Dollar Man - ooooh, dating myself).

Don't get me wrong, I feel much better than this time last week when I was just getting over the worst of the post-chemo side effects. I'm thankful for the increased energy and interest in the world around me. But I'm bummed I'm fighting a cold and am still incredibly tired (can you say daily naps?). I want to be more normal with more energy.

But here I am being unrealistic again. I won't recover as quickly as I used to before. It's only my first week post chemo. It's also my first three-week cycle where my body has a chance to recover. I'm expecting too much, too soon. Then I get disappointed with myself. I feel I should be able to do and accomplish more.

It's hard being in this position, especially when you're someone with high expectations, like me. I have to cut myself some slack and accept it's okay to lay down with a book or take a nap when the mood strikes. Cancer is still wreaking havoc in my body and I have it, along with the lingering side effects of the treatment, with which to contend. Yet, I'm expecting myself to jump back into life with both feet the first week I don't have treatment. Talk about pressure.

Realistically, I shouldn't have these types of expectations until I'm well out of treatment, with no more chemotherapy lingering in my body and time for my cells and systems to recover. We're talking months post treatment, not one week after chemotherapy, while I'm still in the midst of a treatment plan.

I guess today's blog turned into more of a journal entry to myself about squelching the unrealistic expectations I have. But it also demonstrates how I struggle every day. While there is no "right" way to fight cancer, I think many survivors want to do it with strength, grace and determination. Yet, when I feel weak, tired and weary, I feel I'm letting my loved ones down. I'm not fighting hard enough. I'm not being strong enough.

It's hard to watch my family carry on with normal life and only be able to participate in part of it. It's challenging to watch my husband work around the house and yard, and not be able to help because I don't have the energy. It's difficult not to be fully engaged in the life I once had. So it's hard to cut myself the slack I so desperately need to lessen the guilt.

Yes, I feel guilty, not so much for having cancer (because that is outside my control), but for what it and its treatment does to me. For not being able to be fully engaged in raising my kids, work outside the home, contribute to the household budget, do the tasks and chores required to maintain the house, and be a good wife, mother and friend.

I know I shouldn't feel guilty because the chemotherapy and its side effects are also outside my control, but it goes back to the idea of fighting cancer the "right" way and needing to be strong. I know the guilt also comes from my good old Catholic upbringing where we can feel guilty about just about anything.

Cancer is a struggle mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I'm plodding along the best I can, trying to be as realistic as possible and be kind to myself. But it's not easy. Nothing about this whole journey is easy. But these are the cards I've been dealt and I have to try to make the best of them.

So I want say thank you for all the wonderful people in my life who let me know I'm not alone in this struggle. I'm grateful for the support of my family, who love me unconditionally - sick or not. I say thanks for the lessons I've learned along the way, including taking advantage of each day and finding happiness in the little things in life. I'm also grateful for the strength God has given me to this point to fight this nasty disease. I'm also blessed for the time I've had to live. This disease is aggressive and could have taken me quickly. I'm lucky I have had months and years to spend with those I love.

Tina