Settling back into my life and realizing it’s not really mine, it’s a cancer patient’s and I don’t want it.
Nausea almost daily lately — not sure what the reason is but obviously not enjoying it. Popping Zofran on almost a daily basis at this point. Trying to get in to see my local oncologist for my 60-day post-transplant appointment so will see if I can go that long before dealing with it.
Having issues emotionally lately. The cat thing is part of it — I can’t think of Mischief without getting overwhelmingly sad to the point of breaking down, which seems abnormal to me. I mean yeah in most ways he was my best friend for 11 years but he was a pet. It occurred to me this past week, however, that part of this may be because I think I just get along with animals better than people. The mild discomfort and awkwardness, the emotional barriers, the shyness and slight introversion — none of that enters the equation with pets. As such I wonder if due to that I’m suffering more than most would over this? Not sure.
I want cats again but I’m afraid to bring it up with my wife for the time being.
I took Ariana on a daddy/daughter date to the aquarium this weekend, which was bittersweet. She had a blast and loved the sharks, but it drove home the demarcation between my past life and my current one. As I walked behind the scenes with her it felt like a different world, one that’s moved beyond me, and it saddened me a bit.
I’m not sure I can do justice to why in terms of explaining that with just words … your entire perspective shifts when you put on the proverbial cancer shades. I can still, if I focus hard enough, remember what life was like almost a year ago when none of this was happening and my goals outside of Ariana-related stuff consisted of becoming a scuba instructor and continuing on like usual at the aquarium. But now there’s this dark cloud obscuring it all, creating doubts and tethering the dreams I had like a ball and chain around my ankles. Whether I’ll need maintenance chemotherapy, how I’ll still be needing monthly infusions of Zomeda (the bone strengthening stuff that fucks me up for a few days every time) and the potential side effects and how to work that into a schedule where I want to submerse myself in somewhat unclean water.
Pre-transplant your focus, because that’s such a big, intimidating and landmark deal, is on the transplant. Now, though? I focus on day 100 post-transplant but looming over the horizon, and now visible really for the first time, is a life with cancer as a constant companion.
It doesn’t look like a lot of fun.