I’m really not a cry baby pity party attention seeking whiner.
I try to remain in a fluid place where there is space to move amidst the reality of what IS.
I know that I am not my diagnosis.
I really do KNOW that.
But …….. (and you knew that was coming)
There are times that I get overwhelmed by it all.
It seems to be happening too often.
Deaths, treatment failures, hospitalizations, rising tumor markers, progression, Echos, pleural effusion, tumors, whole brain radiation, liver failure, X-rays, CT scans, MRI’s, IVs , blood transfusions, PET scans, spinal taps, pain……
Good news, bad news, no news.
Answers, no answers.
So I react.
And I know it’s not pretty.
Mostly in private, on my bed, while my furry 4 legged comforter nuzzles up next to me, gazing deep into my eyes….gently pawing my arm because he hates when I cry.
I know how to breathe.
I know how to LIVE.