An Update from Cyndie

[CynD]

Hello dear ones! Since I last wrote, 6 of the longest months of my life have passed faster than I can comprehend. I haven't posted but I've read and resonated with each and every one of your posts. Most of you are there, and some of us are here across the pond, but this cancer has connected us and made us part of a close-knit community. I feel comfortable and understood here yet it is one of the hardest places for me to go to because it is so real and unadulterated! It’s the difference between sitting with a watered-down drink in a small glass with a lot of ice, and downing the hard stuff, full-strength, straight from the bottle! So…

…after surgery I told all my docs I didn’t think I wanted to continue treatment, explained why. I had a few “sessions” with a counselor, and the ear of others (women I’ve never even met) that got me over the hump and through the crisis. A friend got a “GoFundMe” page going that carried me through financially for one month, then SSI and Medicaid came through just in the nick of time. I decided that, live or die, I HAD to finish the goal of the academic journey I’d been on for the 6 years b.c. and studied like a fiend for licensure (chemo-brain be damned!). I took the test for my LMSW and passed with flying colors (woo-hoo!), then scheduled chemo for the following day. Did the second round of 3, had CT scan, got a thumbs up for 3 months. Now I’m shooting for 5 years – 3 months at a time for OC and 6 months at a time for CC. Genonc appt. tomorrow with new doc I’ve never met. Doctors and other medical staff have been dropping like flies where I receive treatment, and the stress of that has been awful – wondering what I will do if/when the cancer comes back, and will I still have a medical team in place? I’ve already lost 3 people and one of them was my general oncologist, without warning, the day after I saw her. Add that kind of stress to being immunocompromised and it equals Shingles!

I have been more scared and anxious since having received the “good news” then I think I ever was before it – incomprehensible to the remaining few still around who translate this news into me being fine now, I am cured, I survived, so why aren’t I jumping for joy? The only people that really get it are other so-called “cured survivors.” They know the fear and worry every time you have a funny sensation, or there’s a change, or maybe you just have too much time on your hands. Even my doctors said this time is often the toughest time. They were right.

One day, I don’t know what motivated me, or why then, but I finally sat down and wrote about what happened to me in the hospital. It took 5 months before I could go anywhere near it, but one day I just sat down and started. I wrote non-stop for 3 days straight and when I was done I felt as if I had cleansed my soul. It’s far too much to go into here (especially since this has already turned into a novel), but I had some extremely important revelations as a result.

Coming back from chemo this time around has been rough. Severe PN from round 1 only got worse with round 2. I have trouble sleeping, my body is arthritic, my sugars are up, my weight is up, and I just never seem to feel good anymore. Then, for better or for worse, Quincy the cat left. Actually, I guess you could say he got ran off… by an unneutered male cat and one angry human… me. Cats come and go on my porch and, fixed or not, they usually get along, but one showed up and decided Quincy was a problem. Poor Quince was so afraid of this cat he stopped going outside to pee and started peeing in my apartment instead. When he peed in my bed I lost it. We had a moment before he took off. I wish I could tell you all how much both of us understood that moment. I sat down and called to him, “Come here Quincy.” But my heart wasn’t in it and I think he knew it. He gave a frustrated meow, moved toward me then suddenly stopped and turned and ran away. That was March 10th and I haven’t seen him since, even though the male bullying him is gone now. Part of me hoped he’d come back, but part of me wonders if maybe he isn’t better off somewhere else, especially if the “cure” doesn’t stick.

I've had 3 roommates since I was here last and each has been a challenge. The current one is a miserably bitter, 61 year old guy who blurts out thoughtless remarks like, “Well, at least your above ground!” in response to even the slightest hint of my lamenting my former self. He’s rude, but tidy. When he opens his mouth it’s to go on (relentlessly!) about himself or complain. He is the worst listener I’ve ever met and generally adds a lot of bad juju to the Zen I work real hard to maintain. He also adds $700 a month to my ability to survive and that’s the bottom line right now. Maybe I need something as radical as this asshole to remind me of who I’m choosing to be in all of this. I look at him and see how ugly it looks to play the victim – how unappealing that whole “the world owes me a living” thing is. Every time he opens his mouth I see how he might’ve spoken if only he could stop griping long enough to see what works in his life instead of what doesn’t, or how he might’ve just kept his mouth shut altogether instead of saying what doesn’t need to be said, and in a way that invites such disdain! He blames everything bad in his life on ageism – that he’s gotten too old. In my head I’m thinking, “No you’ve gotten too UGLY! No one wants to be around someone negative, thoughtless and rude that’s incredibly insensitive, and all of which makes you unlikeable and a real downer. Age has nothing to do with it.” He knows about me but it isn’t enough to shut him up about how hard HIS life is or walking around here like every day is his angry last. If we choose life in the face of death, then we also have to choose who we will be in that life and how we’re going to live it until it’s over. It may be the only thing we can actually control along the way. So I choose to be everything this guy is not, and I chose to be my higher self to the point of night sweats if that’s what it takes! In the room on the other side of my apartment his door is always closed, his window never opened, and the blinds are used to keep the sunlight out rather than let it in, and I know that THAT is what death really looks like! Bitter and dark, determined to pull down everything around it – a festering black hole where nothing ever finds its way back out again. Well, I don’t choose any part of that blackness, and I take great comfort in knowing that every woman on this site, even with what each of us is facing, is better off than he is.

Love to each of you!

[Yoshbosh]

Wow! Thanks for the update Cyndie. Glad to hear you are still keeping your spirit up despite everything you have gone through. Good luck for the recovery and the cantankerous roommate (he sounds like a real charmer! At least he pays his way...).

Vicki x

[CynD in reply to Yoshbosh]

Thanks Vicki! Yes... at LEAST!

Hugs!

[ellseybellsey]

Cindy you are definitely keeping your spirits up, pity about the old cantankerous bugger, I would put ear plugs in and listen to some relaxing music.

Ellsey xx

[CynD in reply to ellseybellsey]

Good advice Ellsey! Luckily the ol' curmudgeon keeps to himself for the most part, but even something as innocuous as "Hi, how are you?" can begin a diatribe of "poor me" (grumble, grumble!) "Everything in my life sucks!" (complain, complain) so most of the time I try not to engage him... which can make it kinda dark around here. My challenge is to try and keep it light despite him.

Best Always!

[airfemale]

Gosh. I have read so much into this that I don’t know what to say. Cyndie, maybe it is time to get a new flat mate. Would another older lady be more comforting to you. A person who is dark and soul distorting will eventually bring you so down it could make you sicker. Think about it. I agree the money is a consideration but sometimes your mental stability is more important. You really need nuturing people around you or at least kind and unobtrusive people. I guess the moment you see him, you tense up. Aside from all that be kind to yourself. Lots of love Sharon.

[CynD in reply to airfemale]

Hey Sharon:

Believe me I've thought about asking him to leave a dozen times, but the truth is I wouldn't be able to make my rent and life is hard enough right now without trying to live it out of my car! But you aren't the first to tell me I need to tell him to go. Well, as the gods would have it, since I finally sat down and wrote about this - there has been a turn-around, and I have a HAPPY update to share: Literally right after I wrote this he came home and, for the 1st time ever, actually asked me if I was okay. I wasn't okay but I told him I was. I was afraid that if I said anything, he'd say something awful and make me feel worse. The next morning the brother of a woman I met from chemo - same cancer as us, same doctors as me - texted me and told me she had just died. I was crushed. I knew it was coming but still, it hurt like hell. Immediately after that I got a text from the roommate inviting me to lunch - specifically to a place he knew I've been wanting to go! I knew anything was going to be better than sitting in my room crying and letting my fears overwhelm me and so I decided to say "yes." I told myself I'd just have to keep my mouth shut if he asked me anything which, honestly, I knew he wouldn't... and he didn't... and I was glad about that. I listened to him go on about himself, and marveled at how oblivious he was to not only much of what he says but HOW he says it. I also noted that Bob really isn't a malicious guy he's just... kinda clueless. The next day (yesterday), I don't know how it happened but we started talking. Well, actually, HE started talking - regaling me with stories about himself as usual only THIS time his stories were chock full of self-revelation and input he'd been giving from others throughout his life. And boy-oh-boy had these people nailed it! Angry, the cause of much of his own trouble, needs to learn when to keep his mouth shut, thoughtless, and a sense-of-humor that often doesn't translate. All of it was on the money! But what was more shocking was that as he was talking and telling me all this, he was actually owning up to it. All of it! I saw my opening and I took it. I knew I was in a place where I could talk calmly and honestly, instead of having a knee-jerk response to some thoughtless remark he'd just made. I'd gotten my stuff out here, so I was able to come from a really good place - my social worker place - when I spoke. And I did, and he heard me, and he owned it, and he apologized to me, and then he gave me the biggest, longest, most wonderful hug I've had in a really long time. Afterward we went and did laundry together and it turned out to be a really good and productive day, and I knew we'd pathed a new path moving forward. I can't tell you how much I needed something like this to happen. This Tuesday I see my Gynonc and it's one of THOSE appts and after having seen my new general Onc last Thursday, well, I'm scared. At least now I don't feel quite so alone in my home! Thanks for reading and responding. I hope you doing okay.

...Cyndie XX

[airfemale in reply to airfemale]

Gee once again I am gobsmacked as to what to say. If it is working for you I am glad. I am so lucky to say that my position is not dependent on sharing my home. Please look after your self and don’t let anyone overwhelm you by their ignorance. X

[lorraine71-Australia]

Hi Cyndie, I was reading your post and felt you were in a hard position needing the rent income and dealing with this sour gentleman but was glad to read you both are in a better place with each other hope it continues

Take care Lorraine xx.