HEALTH UPDATE: Same! Holding steady. I love my Fitbit. I’ve hit 10k steps a few times. It’s great! My next treatment is next week Wednesday already. Time flies when you are having fun!
I’m so very happy to be here. I absolutely love the weather. We had a fire in our fireplace last week. It’s been years! We’ve never had the time. Too many toys in the way. The fireplace tools were buried somewhere in the basement. So many excuses. No more excuses! Willow couldn’t believe it. I’m pretty sure she thought it was cool. I roasted a marshmallow for her. Too sticky! No problem! Before Willow, I wouldn’t dream of handing over to a kid a sticky gooey mess making marshmallow in my spotless home! So much has changed. I also thought she would enjoy watching the news at a very young age. You know, like mommy does! I imagined her preferring classic rock and all things adult. That didn’t happen. I’m not complaining! The Troll 2 soundtrack is one of my favorites!! My life has been full of change. I’m grateful. It’s kept my mind so busy.
I logged into mychart to check out a few things. I noticed I had additional treatment appointments scheduled. I’m booked on the schedule every three weeks through December 9th. As I was adding the appointments to my calendar my heart sank. The feeling of I DON’T KNOW. I really do not know what this feeling is. You see, that appointment in December will be 4 days past the one year anniversary of my diagnosis. Happy? Scared? PTSD? Hopeful? Yes. And more. I just can’t put a finger on it. Will I even be here for that appointment? I was told it wasn’t likely back on December 5, 2019. Then I replayed the estimate in my mind. “Months. Not years”. Oh. Months. MonthS. Maybe she meant not quite two years. Months could be up to 23 months because yearS would be 24 months, right? Maybe I interpreted it wrong all along. Yes. I fully realize this is crazy over analyzing at its finest. Lol. That’s how I roll. My genetic testing changed everything anyways. Changed my timeline to “I don’t know” but seemingly better than the original prediction. I don’t know my prognosis. I’m living day to day.
Regardless of what my future holds, the feelings of despair during that time of terror that feels like yesterday has yet to be forgotten. There was a lot of self convincing. I had to train myself to accept what I was given. I was sick as hell. I got most of my affairs in order. Things that I thought were important at the time. They are still important but some of the loose ends remain. I’ve blown them off as I have lived in fairy land for the past 6 months. Six months of a wonderful and beautiful life. Full of usual and extremely unusual stressful situations but overall blissful. I never realized how amazing it is to feel so good until the time I experienced feeling so very bad. It’s much easier to forget about the other problems we are all facing in America. I’m still very vocal about those issues so I can only imagine how loud I would be had I not found a new appreciation for life.
I believe I am a miracle. I’m not supposed to be feeling as well as I am. I talk to my Mom about this almost every time we talk. We just can’t believe it. I can feel it in her voice. Did I mention how much I can’t stand being apart from her? I miss her. We talk and I’ve gone to see her in her driveway. I need her touch. I don’t know what to do. It’s another “I don’t know” feeling. I can’t wrap my mind around this situation. This virus. Is it possible to have so many different emotions that a person mentally explodes? I have a consistent track record of not being able to organize or understand my feelings. I think it’s why this blog is so helpful. Writing it all down offers a slight sense of organization and understanding.
Thinking about the past nearly one year is such a challenge. I’m surviving a terminal cancer and running from a deadly virus. It’s beyond bizarre. The next month will be nuts. I have a BIRTHDAY. I automatically think…what will my age be on my obituary? I read them all the time. I started doing that years ago and I think it has something to do with being a self diagnosed hypochondriac. I would look for ages and cause of death. I know. It’s weird. I can’t explain it. Seeing people die from the same cancer I have does not freak me out. I totally understand that my cancer is very mean. It kills a lot of people. Many suffer greatly. RIP RBG! I feel so very bad for them. I had a taste of that pain and suffering but for now I’ve been spared. What did I do to deserve this feeling of good health? I don’t know.
In the coming weeks and months I imagine I will be heavily and sadly reflecting on how this all began. How I overcame. How my road is still very long. What did I do with my precious time? What still needs to be done? I want to give back some how! I want to continue to share my story. I wish I could reach the hands of every soul with worries of life ending scenarios. Patients and families alike. I want to squeeze the crap out of these hands. I want to be there for them as so many have been here for me. I’m fully aware of how lucky I am to have a support network of incredible strength. Not everyone is so lucky. I’m humbled with gratitude for all of the prayers, love, friendships, kind words, cards and gifts. I can’t believe the outpouring. Wait, yes I can. I love my people. You are kind and I would never have made it this far without you all. I need to find a way to reach out. Will you help me? Please consider this an open invitation to all friends and family and anyone you know far and wide to extend their hands to me. I am here for virtual hand holding, hugs, prayers and positive vibes. Thank you.
There is so much I do not know but what I do know for sure is that I’m grateful beyond measure for all the wonderful things in my life.
Blessings and safety to all!!
2 thoughts on “I don’t know”
Love reading your thoughts and ramblings 😊Love you Cathy Hannes. I get it. Never would have imagined I would still be here today. everyday is a blessing and your positivity is inspiring to me. Loving people is what this worlds needs. I will continue to love people like you everyday of my life. Keep bumpin along my friend.
Love you my dear friend! So glad you’re finding new (old) ways of celebrating life as you reflect on what this diagnosis has meant to you and your family. You are so strong, gracious and amazing! I’m so glad to call you friend. Hugs to you all as you get ready to celebrate Oct 10, baby!