“One day it will be that time to make THOSE decisions.” Said the nurse practitioner with a meaningful look, who was seeing me instead of my oncologist “Okay, sure but we all die. People have been trying to forecast my future for the last few years and I have surprised them. Don’t try and predict my future.”I said, annoyed that we were even having this conversation.
I am very much aware of my situation, or at least I know I walk a tightrope with no net. Nobody knows how they are going to ultimately take their last bow and I am no exception. Is it more possible for me to drop dead from my disease? Sure but still, you never know and I might as well see how far I can go…That being said, conversations of my imminent death in the opinion of practitioners that barely know or see me are not helpful.
We need to be met at the level we want to be met at, if that makes sense. Some people like all of the gory details and statistics, others like me want to be informed but not overly so. I am more of a “Need to know enough’ kind of person. Those are just two examples but I feel I have more of a chance of the possibility of success if I don’t continuously get the message “You are ultimately going to fail at this.” So? Maybe I will but stop twisting my lady dick and let me find out myself and also shut the fuck up about my future.
I noticed Wednesday at the cancer clinic that there are messages all around that say “Beat cancer” but often enough the words coming out of authorities mouth is “You won’t make it through this.” This is mildly depressing with a side of funny. It feels a little like gas lighting.
“Do you feel joy?”She asked. Well isn’t that a loaded question 🙄 I definitely have moments of mirth or wonder but sometimes “joy” can be a bit out of reach when one is navigating the dark forest and there is no shame in this even though the question “Do you feel joy?” feels like an accusation, as if one is to blame if they are not manically and gleefully running through a field of wild flowers like in some of those awful tampon commercials.
I wish I could run through a field right now, that would probably give me some kind of joy, though I would settle for the ability to walk up the stairs on only 2 legs instead of having to use my hands as well to support me on the stairs to get to my bedroom or up from the basement.
I will keep trying until I can’t.
Until next time ❤️