Good news! Arm still broken; however, not needing surgery. Clearly I've mastered the art of sitting in a chair. Shit still hurts. I can't wipe my ass with my right. I can barely pull on a pair of pants. It's like I'm starting over with a new right arm, with the special bonus of having all the lymphatic system removed from it and the muscles that support it chopped up.
I have to lift my right hand with my left when the sling is off, like it's a dead squid. Flopping around. Ugh. I don't handle this well.
Yes. I am grateful I didn't have to have surgery. Yes I am grateful I'm alive. I am not thrilled that it takes 3 minutes to put on a sock. FFS. This break can be directly attributed to the hormone therapy I'm on to treat the aggressive cancer they found. It saps estrogen. It depletes calcium. In few words....it's turned my bones into those of an old lady.
To survive I accept it. I tried to offset by exercise and look what happened.... I felt so helpless and hopeless.
Until....I realized that bones heal.
I'm still here.
I was down. Deep down. Maybe the deepest down. Until I started to receive emails and messages from women who had read my blog, who had heard of my story and who had used it to help themselves to avoid chemo or to seek out alternative treatments. Women and husbands of women who messaged me to ask about therapies and my experience with them.
It gave me purpose. It made me feel hopeful. Not for me....but for women suffering from cancer. There are alternative therapies. There are other ways to survive. Cancer isn't a death sentence.
I think the universe stopped me; my broken arm was a pause, a period of reflection.
I've been sitting in this chair, in this house...unable to use my dominant arm for longer than I could after my amputation. I'm just now able to manage to squeak out an entry. I'll ice my arm and pop a gravol and some herbal sleep aids to keep me still through the night.
I wondered today in a moment of self pity "why?". My conclusion was "because".
I don't know why I'm still alive. I just know I'm not giving up.
I'm not giving up on my kids. I want more than anything for them to look back and remember me as someone who wanted to live. Someone who fought to be there for them. Someone who loved them more than anyting. Someone who sat in a chair for days, weeks, months if needed if it meant I could be around for them.
I want Jason to see that although I wasn't friendly or happy or sexy I didn't give up. I kept living. I keep trying.
Last night I cried myself to sleep. Like sad movie cry.
I was crying for all I wanted to be, all I thought I'd be by now.
I was crying for my family for having to deal with me. For having to witness the suffering. For having to hurt for me. To fear losing me. To see me being reckless sometimes and angry and hopeless over the past two years.
I cried for my parents.
The worst thing on earth is to see your children sufffer. NO one should endure it. Life is designed so that parents pass before their children, not so that parents watch their children suffer. I feel awful for this...even though there is nothing I can do about it.
I cried for myself.
I wanted to be so much more than I am now. 2021.
When we graduated in 2019 part of the ceremony was to write a letter to ourselves. The administration was to send it to us, as a reminder of what we want to become...something that was similar to a vision board. We addressed the letter to ourselves and it was to be sent 2 years later.
I received mine 4 days ago and when I opened it I literally broke down. Like fell to my knees at the community mailbox at 12:30pm. Middle of the sidewalk. I just sat there. My sling firmly in place just a broken person crying on the sidewalk. I sat there for about 2 minutes.
I don't want to look like a lunatic . So, I got up. Two minutes is really a long time on a sidewalk crying.
I dragged my ass home and took a bath. Just floated there.
I looked up at the tile, out the window, down at my scarred and broken body. My broken soul, my broken heart.
And I made a choice to keep going.
I don't really want to right now, I'm doing it because I know I have to.
There are too many people I love that I don't want to let down.
The most important person I can't let down is me.
I know who I am.
I'm far from done.
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