Well, fuck.

Long long day. But it was good – I suppose. Parts.

With the new change in routine and the new drugs and fun and stuff, they’ve been doing a lot of testing and digging around in me. It almost feels hostile, like they’re looking for a reason to not continue.

And today they found a reason. But its only one piece of the puzzle. One factor that is influenced by many things. Basically in simple terms there is a problem with my liver, it’s much more damaged then they were expecting based on the last tests they did. Not a problem though – just means we’ve got to go back to the drawing board and shuffle a few things (aka. everything) around to make it all work. It’ll work.

4 days til my birthday. Ya, its a big deal to me… You spend your 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th birthdays in the hospital being told you wont make it to the next one and see how easy it is to get caught up in the realisation that circling the sun one more time is a big deal. And like they kept telling me years ago – this one might actually be my last one since I’m going though my last rounds of treatment… 22. Its a good one to go out on.

Keep calm. It’s just cancer.

Stole the post title… can’t remember from who. But I did. Sorry.

But it made me laugh – cause you know what. It’s so true. I’ve done all this before. I’ve battled this and for almost 10 years I won (minus a few scares and set backs). This isn’t anything to be afraid of anymore. I told a good friend the other night I was “terrified”. Pretty sure the use of the word “terrified” should be limited to when there’s a murder standing over your bed, when your in the forest surrounded by wolves, or watching a good horror movie (possibly also Criminal Minds).

Mental shift.

This is not fair – but its also not fair to anyone else and it’s not worth putting the mental energy into whining about. Complaining, bitching and ranting sure. In my book all that’s fair game. But not whining. Whining is like saying I have no control over what’s happening to me – like I have no choice in the matter. Like this was something condemned onto me and I’m doomed to follow one set path. Which isn’t the case at all. I can complain about the choices I have, or rant about the decisions I have to make, or bitch about the inconvenience of it all, but no more whining – there are a hundred paths I can choose to take. I do not feel sorry for myself. I am strong and I’ve surpassed what everyone has expected of me.

When I started going to the hospital I was “dead girl walking”, everyone knew I didn’t have “much time”, didn’t have “much fight” or many “options/chances/realistic goals”. Two years ago when I was re-diagnosed I was told 18 months. 18 months ago I underwent major surgery and got another chance. And now I’m here and in 4.5 days (practically 4 days) it’s my birthday. Who gives a fuck that making it to April 25th, 2014, is unlikely.

This is my summer (one of the advantages of being a spring baby) – and you know what, I’m done after the summer. Last few rounds of treatment, a few last ditch surgeries, and a lot of fun. If I beat it I win. But this is my finishing sprint. I’m good at that part of racing, digging in and finding that extra gear. If I win great, if not then no one can say I didn’t give it my all. If this last chance combination of drugs don’t work then I’ve used up all my options – and thats not something worth wasting energy whining over. I’ve done everything they’ve asked of me and I want to be happy. I want the people around me to spend time with me being happy. I want to have fun. I want to mean something this summer and I’m only going to be able to do that by getting my head back into a fighting place and getting to a place where I can feel like I’m worth something.

Cause I am worth something.

(And yes I realize everything I’ve just said is fairly “light” and “happy” and “shallow” when the actual situation probably deserves a lot more seriousness and in depth conversation – but I’ve thought it through, talked to everyone I’ve needed to, and I’m done being serious and sad and depressed. Fuck, it’s just cancer.)

No more whining… But sorry to all the people who still need to listen to me bitch…

SIDENOTE: Might be slightly tipsy and happy and feeling good (no – not because it’s 4/20, just a friend visiting from seattle), but as a very good friend told me yesterday – Drunk words are just sober truths and thoughts.

Insomnia

Sleep shouldn’t be this hard. There’s no reason for it to hurt this much or be this painful. In closing my eyes I panic, my heart races out of control, and my thoughts spiral down to a place I hate going.

Every night I delay closing my eyes as long as possible. I go to my park on 25th and sit for a while. Sometimes thats just the start. I collect my thoughts and then walk. Sometimes thats the end destination. I can stay there until the clouds start to lighten and until all of a sudden closing my eyes isn’t so hard, isn’t so scary.

Tonight I came home from my park early. I start this instead. I bring my computer over to my desk and I panic. I cant think straight and I cant breath right because I start thinking about “what if I cant do this?”, “what if I cant beat this”. I cant deal with the emptiness of night – how am I going to deal with the monotony of a coffin and the nothingness of that?

I think I’m scared of that…