It’s been days since I’ve written in my Journal. I’ve been in and out of depression so often these last few days. Now being keenly aware that my Journal is actually being read by other people, I’ve not written for many reasons… mainly the depression. I’d totally forgotten that the only real reason to journal right now is for my own therapy… an opportunity to let things pour out of my mind… onto “paper”… where they can get sorted out, shuffled around like puzzle pieces… and put together in a picture that makes sense. I forgot that I can write whatever I want… and then make a decision as to whether or not to post the entry on-line. A side benefit is a written record of lessons I’m learning… so when I forget them (and I do… and will)… I can recall… and invoke the learning into my life again. But I forgot all that… thinking only that I can’t write… because the story is not particularly pretty right now… not at all interesting… nothing profound is being learned… I’m not at a point where I can be inspiring to anyone… and day after day I shun the very tool God has given me at this time in my life… to heal! Additionally, Ric pointed out to me that as far as other people reading my journal goes… it would be unfair not to write about the difficult times. What I’m going through right now is part of the journey. Anyone reading my journal for the purpose of understanding their own cancer/chemotherapy experience… and encountering a time of desperation and depression… would welcome the knowledge that someone else spent some time in this pothole too! I’ve not been so depressed that I can’t see the end of it… I constantly reminded myself that this is temporary… and one day I’ll look back on what I’ve overcome. And today… I find myself beginning to overcome. (Now I wish I would have had the courage to pull out this laptop in the depths of my despair and write… but I didn’t… so today I return to my flat little friend… better late than never!)
What did I spend so much time agonizing about?
1. THE WAY I LOOK. I feel like I wear the same old clothes everyday. One day a pair of jeans can be too tight… and a week later too big. I don’t have any scales (on purpose)… but my weight must be wildly fluctuating. Some days I have to force myself to eat… and some days I eat all the time. My appetite is just crazy… certainly affected by the chemo and other drugs I have to take. I went to the mall and kept catching glimpses of myself in the mirrors… and hated what I saw! I realize now that I was probably walking the way I perceived myself to be… that my slouch reflected the beaten down way I felt. I’d see other women, dressed beautifully, terrific hairstyle, manicured nails, dazzling jewelry, terrific shoes… and they were shopping for more clothes, jewelry and shoes. They were laughing and giggling and sparkling! And there was Jeanne in the mirror here and again over there… dumpy, ugly, shabby (not shabby-chic)… sick and pale and sad. I mostly walked looking down, which served to be a double whammy. There can be no spring in your step when you’re looking down… and looking down made me see my shoes (oh no, here with go again with shoes)… which were my most comfortable pair of dockers… badly in need of some polish, little strings reaching out from the stitching saying “Everyone look down! Can you believe how Jeanne has neglected us? Look, look… look at Jeanne’s shoes! Everyone… look at how bad ALL of Jeanne looks!”
2. MONEY. Although I have really good medical insurance… this week I’ve started to get notices from my insurance company of some rather large amounts that are not going to be covered. And I just can’t imagine how I’ll ever be able to pay these bills. I’ve hesitated to write about this worry… mainly because I know it’s going to be read by other people… and I don’t want it to sound like a plea for financial aid. But again, I’m not the first, nor the last, to have to face this financial challenge… so I have to write about the sheer terror this sends through me. (So… to anyone who is reading this… don’t send me money!!! Instead… if you’ve dealt with overwhelming medical expenses… write to me and tell me how you dealt with or are dealing with it.) It makes me not only depressed, but angry, that at a time when I’m trying to take care of myself, indulge in naps to get the additional rest I need, take vitamins, drink water, follow doctor’s orders, stay cheerful, and keep my damned spirits up!… that the very medical community that’s doing an amazing job at healing and curing me… is preparing to send me bills that will send me into physical and emotional trauma! I know I’ve already learned that “don’t worry” lesson… but I need a refresher course… I can’t pass this test right now.
3. FAMILY. I miss my grandchildren like crazy. It’s risky for me to be around kids in school… or daycare… because they carry so many viruses. But I know women get cancer who have children at home… and they survive. So I’m constantly in a quandary. Why not be with them? I love them… they make me happy! Then I think why take the chance… an infection can be life threatening. Why take the risk? What I really want is a long lifetime of being with my grandchildren. But my heart aches for time with my kids and grandchildren.
4. MOTHER'S DAY. On Saturday, I kept dreading Sunday. I was going to be alone. My children have had colds… Ric was going to Marietta to be with his son. My mother lives too far away for me to drive at this time. I have friends I could have called and planned time with. But I felt it best to plan a day of sulking and crying… seriously! Maybe get it all out of my system and move on. I also remembered my best friend from childhood, Debby. Her mother died at the end of April. My Mom told me after it happened. I have not been able to call Debby yet… I don’t know how to console her… I don’t know how (with both my parents still alive) I can offer her any comfort (with both of her parents now gone). I won’t be with my family tomorrow, but I will next year. How do I make Debby’s heartache go away?
5. THE UNRELIABILITY OF JEANNE. So many crying spells. Sometimes I could feel them coming on… sometimes they took me by surprise. Sometimes just a tear or two down my cheek… sometimes wailing. Often when I was alone… sometimes (embarrassingly) when others were around.
6. CREATIVITY. I wanted to paint… and couldn’t think of anything to paint. I looked through my books and didn’t believe I could paint any of those pictures. I played the piano and made too many mistakes. I tried to play the guitar… but my fingers hurt. I wanted to write… but believed I had nothing to write about.
7. JAMES TAYLOR. I went to his concert… and loved it. Got to see it with my husband and our dear friends. But I fought sickness the entire time. It was a battle to stand up and clap. I wondered while I was at the concert, if I would remember it the next day. I did. I always will. But for the last several days… everything has been a struggle.
8. CRANBERRY JUICE. I went to the grocery store just before my last chemo treatment to stock up on cranberry juice. On sale was the store brand “cranberry juice cocktail” Now I’m a big believer in pure cranberry juice, 100% cranberry juice, the real thing… but lured by the price of 2 for $4.00… less than the price of one bottle of the real thing… I stocked up on several bottles of crap. At first I thought my taste buds were so screwed up that even cranberry juice didn’t taste good this time… but when my taste buds revived I still didn’t like it, thinking it tasted like Kool-Aid… and then I realized: Jeanne, you big dummy… you didn’t buy cranberry juice… how can you expect it to taste like cranberry juice. Now I’m drinking all this crap, because I paid for it… and it seems like I’m never going to finish it off… and be able to go back and buy the real stuff.
9. KATHY MATTEA. I went to her concert… and loved it. Got to see it with my husband and dear friends from Marietta. But I fought sickness part of the time. It wasn’t, however, a battle to stand up and clap. I did not need to take any prescribed drugs this week, so I knew I would remember the concert the next day. I did have several periods of stomach cramps… I did start to cry in the midst of our friends, and the crowd… I was embarrassed… but I recovered (physically and emotionally).
10. THE WAY I LOOK. Yes… back to this. It really wasn’t the cranberry juice cocktail that caused my depression… or James Taylor. The other things… well, not a cause, but certainly things that I deal with. The way I looked was a pervading thought, however. Ric told me that everything I saw at the mall that day was a poke at my appearance… I perceived the disease was changing me… my physical self was trying to tell my soul that I was defeated. The Darkness was trying to overcome the Light. God waits for us to call on the Light. Darkenss cannot overcome the Light.
Today was Mother’s Day. I was alone, but not really. I talked to all the mothers in my life on the phone… starting with my Mom… and my daughter… and my mother-in-law… and my sister-in-law. And you know what? When it’s the best you can do… the telephone is an amazing little blessing! After and between the phone calls, I kept busy all day. Never sat down, except to talk on the phone. I did several loads of laundry, including curtains, washed dishes, cleared the living room and dining room of as much as I could to prepare for painting, took the outlet and switchplate covers off the walls, gathered up newspapers for recycling, bought cat food and toilet paper at Target, put gas in the car… all in all a day most people would have considered a sad way to spend Mother’s Day. But somehow I made it through feeling quite good. Why? Was it because I kept moving? Was it because when I couldn’t pray anymore, Ric prayed for me?
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