I went there…

I said I wouldn’t.  I’ve been trying to make sure I stay in the right head space.  Uttering those words would be painful.  I knew it.
I haven’t actually said it out loud, but the thoughts in my head have taken me to “that place”. The place I hopefully will not visit long of “why me”.

I really don’t think I’m deep in it.  I guess the thought had to come across my mind sooner or later.  I’m guessing the depression I’ve been experiencing hasn’t really helped either.  I just didn’t want to be that person.  I wanted to rise above it and be some kind of superhero when the reality is, I’m not.  I’m human just like everyone else.  And I think it’s safe to say that a normal human reaction to finding out you have a terminal disease is to ask “why me?”  I guess since I had been doing so well I figured I was beyond it.  Turns out I’m just a late bloomer.

I don’t know what caused me to get cancer.  I don’t have a great track record of taking care of myself, but there’s plenty of others out there that have done as much damage if not more that don’t have or never will get cancer.
And think the “why me” question started on a trip to the Santee Costco.  It’s always an adventure going there.  You literally see all walks of life in those isles.  And as I pass people I’d get a good look at them and what they have in their cart and I think, “I ran a marathon last year, how in the world is this person healthier than I am!?!??”  And of course, I’m making HUGE assumptions because I don’t know what their medical status is, but I just figure that everyone there must be healthier than I am.

I look around the chemo room when I’m there too and it seems like many people there are not there because of lifestyle choices.  Again, I’m making some assumptions, but there’s not overwhelmingly heavy people.  Perhaps a lot of smokers?  I’m not sure.  I just know that it doesn’t feel very fair sometimes.  I’m usually one of the youngest if not THE youngest person in the infusion room at any given time.  That certainly adds to my questioning.

The good news about all of this is it’s not something I hang on to.  I have my little moments here and there and then I move on.  I know I can’t dwell on it because it would eat me alive.
I haven’t made it to any of the support groups yet and I’m looking forward to it.  Hopefully hearing other people’s stories will help.  Hearing someone else say that they have the same feelings when they walk through the isles of Costco won’t make me feel like such an asshole when I do let myself “go there”.

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One thought on “I went there…

  1. Hi Heather:

    Just now catching up on your blog. Still here, still love you, and still proud of how you manage your journey to recovery. A note on the support groups, I think not only will it help to hear others’ stories and compare notes; I think many would find your insights, humor and and general nature very comforting and helpful for them as well. That’s the synergy I have seen at support groups I used to run for brain injury. Of course a whole different ball game,but some incredible experiences none-the-less. Love ya!

    Scott

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