Thursday, December 21, 2006
Then you jump
Chemo is like climbing up the high dive. You're on the ground looking up and it doesn't look that high. Then you're climbing, focusing on the rungs, and it still isn't bad at all. And you get to the top and think, "huh, that was climb! But not that bad, and here I am. At the top. And its not nearly as scary as I thought it would be". Then you walk to the edge and look over. And you know there's no way you're going down the ladder; you're going into the water. And you cry and you fight it, but ultimately you have no choice. Into the water you go. And on the way down you're terrified. And right before you hit the water you freak out and you do a belly flop.
Chemo is like that. You get to the end of the infusion and you think, "That wasn't so bad! I'm one of the lucky few!". Then you walk to the end of the board and get yourself ready for the jump to the end. And it gets bad. And scary. But its much too late to turn back. There's no going down the ladder.
My FM is really sick. Yesterday when I was at the hospital I saw 101 degree temps, nausea, and more awful stuff. And I got there after the really scary stuff happened. Its not unexpected, but that doesn't make it any easier. We all thought it was going so well, that FM would make it through without much pain or discomfort. But in order to kill the cancer, you have to kill all that's good in the body along with it. I just want to give FM a bit hug. Or jump up in the hospital bed and snuggle with them while we watch a movie.
You read stories about this happening. People laying in hospital beds 'fighting' cancer. Fighting. Interesting word. Because there doesn't seem to be any fighting going on. Its the drugs doing the fighting and you're suffering the consequences.
I had a really rough night last night. But I'm trying so hard to remember that life still needs to happen. My Ryan has had a really bad week this week, and its important to take care of the normal every-day bad stuff as if there isn't Cancer in our life. Or despite the Cancer. In my very limited (so far) experience with illness, I've figured out that the best thing you can do for your loved one when they are sick is to live your life.
On my way out of the hospital room tonight my FM said, "Can you do me a favor? Do something tonight that I would enjoy doing!" So FM, this glass of wine is for you...
I'm Amanda. I'm an engineer in an industry full of men, a professional wedding and family portrait photographer, a firefighter's wife, a traveler, and a dogMa.