So, I almost got to bed at a decent hour. Again I found myself Googling the various scans and tests I have had in an effort to better understand all that I have been through. This is becoming an unhealthy past time. I now find myself curious about other cancers. It is like packing on mental weight. The other night I had a dream that I felt a lump next to my belly button and my regular docs wouldn't see me. So in a panic, I went to my dermatologist, who stuck a swab into my abdomen and declared that I have lymphoma. Even though I was well aware at this point that I was dreaming, I was so mortified by the idea that I could get a completely different kind of cancer out of nowhere that I woke myself up crying.
My mom is having random conversations with people at the health food store about my cancer. She goes in to buy aluminum-free deodorant for my radiation treatments, and comes home with green phyto-foods to help cleans my body of radiation toxins and such. I am grateful for all that I am learning, but with each new thing I learn, I am made more aware of what I probably don't know. In addition to my oncologists, I also see a naturopath doc. I never speak of this much because initially, I wasn't sure how much credit to give this guy, but little light bulbs are going off and he now makes complete sense to me.
I passed the 6 month mark a few days ago. Is it bad that I had a little party in my head about this anniversary? I think about what these last months have included, how I've passed the weeks, and what events make up my hours, and it really all seems very boring. It feels so lame to say that I would rather sit at home with my cat and surf the net than have martinis with my friends like I used to.
Yes, it feels lame to declare, but I would honestly rather sit at home in silence than listen to one of my friends complain about some petty crap. Some moments I am grateful to be included in conversations about drama that will not matter in a month, and when the drama is flung my way, I feel a bit normal again. I am both angered and relieved that my friends still treat me the same. I am relieved that I am not that chick with cancer, but angry that they have no concept of what it feels like to turn into someone unrecognizable to your former self.
I used to care tremendously about my friendships, even though some of them probably weren't healthy. Somewhere in all of this, I lost the mental attachment to my social surroundings. A friend pulled me out of my funk and took me to my favorite restaurant last night. I ended up running into about 30 of my friends who were celebrating a birthday. As I was talking to my friend, people from the birthday would approach me one at a time and awkwardly inquire as to how "things" are going. "Things" are great I said. That is the kind of generic reply you give to people who you don't really know.... a proper answer given that I feel like a stranger in my group of friends. When I got home, I was so glad to be back on my couch with my cat. I feel kind of bad that my friends have been replaced by my cat. Oh well! My cat never complains about petty crap :)