March 27th 2014. My 14th day admitted in the hospital. Sitting on my chair in my room at Princess Margaret.
Today I’m feeling: Hopeful for the first time since I was sent to Toronto General Hospital E.R. on March 11th.
Last night, I had 4 hours of sleep – which is more than I’ve had in at least 13 days which means it’s a good day. It means that something is working. There is air passing through my airways and I don’t have to choose between talking or breathing, eating or breathing and drinking or breathing. Today is my first day of feeling somewhat “normal”. Whatever “normal” is in the context of being a cancer victim. Yes, cancer. The Big Bad “C”. And yes, “victim” because I feel like one at this moment.
Yes, it happened quickly. Yes, out of nowhere. Yes, I’m a strong woman. But no, I’m not ok. Do you think you’d be in one polite, put together and composed piece if you were in my shoes?
I’m a F&^!ing mess.
I’m in a million pieces – and I don’t know where and how to begin picking them all up. I’m just staring down at all of these shards of me.
A common question I’ve been getting is “How did this all begin?” The answer is that I barely even know myself. But I have taken the time to trace back to a few profound events that happened only within the past 2 months which led me to where I am today. Refer to The Timeline here.
S%$! is about to get personal. You’re welcome,
I’m sorry, Enjoy – whichever you feel suits.
At the end of January, my life took a huge turn. A relationship I was in had just ended. I had realistic expectations of what a grownup relationship took, was ready to persevere both through life’s brightest and darkest moments together (because S%$# gets dark in life. It’s inevitable), had more experience in it and was just simply willing to fight for great (vs. cruise to get to good) – as I do with anything I choose to commit to. And well, that was one side of the relationship. After a move out on his part and me thankfully keeping our dog child we (sort of not really) got together, my life had drastically changed. DRASTICALLY. It was a choice I had made. It is all choice.
I immediately started making some big changes in my life but through it were endless days and weeks of this – in different variations, all sorts of orders, over and over and over….and over again:
“&$&#^@! that was painful”
(Words of hatred)
(Feels guilty for words and feelings of hatred)
(Feels entitled to words and feelings of hatred)
“Why me? I gave it all”
“Wait..did I give it my all?”
“Wait I minute, of course I gave it my all”
(Thinks of fond memories)
And then ever so often it ended with “I know better. I’m too good for this. Let’s get to work, woman. Time to heal and progress” Thank god. Those who know me well know that I don’t like grey areas and doddling around on things. It was time to roll up my sleeves and get to work. I never gave up on the relationship and him – and I will never ever give up on myself. I worked my goddamn ass off (and still am – every single day).
Immediately after the breakup (as in the very next day) I started feeling a lump in my throat. You know how they say that when you have feelings and emotions that are unaddressed left brewing inside of you, that you can feel as if you’ve got a lump in your throat? As if you have things to say and express – but something or someone is keeping you from expressing them? I thought it was that. I thought that the overwhelming amount of emotions I had, qualms and energy was cut short – and as a result was causing this feeling. Only a few days later, I developed a dry cough. I had never had a dry cough and always wondered how it felt like.
I chalked the lump in my throat and the dry cough up to the serious amount of stress I endured from the breakup. S%t happens when we’re stressed out, right? And often a big blow can throw off your physiological self. Most of us have been there: headaches, colds, nausea, coughs, etc. I figured this was just one of those situations. No big deal. It’ll pass.
And well…there was much more to it. I just didn’t know it yet.