Stuck In The Middle With You

2 chemo infusions down, 16 to go. Tomorrow I'll get my third and final infusion of this first "round" of infusions. Each round consists of 3 infusions so all in all I'll go to the hospital 18 times for this chemotherapy over the next 6 months. 18 times. My perspective can shift from day to day and at times it seems like 18 times in 6 months? No problem. Other times those 18 visits feel like a mountain I have to climb. Today I'm somewhere in between the two, stuck right in the middle of "hey this isn't so bad" and "are you kidding me? THIS is what my life look like?".  There's not always a  rhyme or reason for these shifts in mood and perspective, sometimes it's just the side of the bed I wake up on, other times it is decidedly not just the side of the bed I wake up on. Sometimes it's the weight of everything I deal with bearing down on my shoulders. That invisible weight that can't be seen by others but can be felt by me.

I was talking to a friend today who also is battling metastatic cancer, and I have to say these conversations always make me feel more normal. We were discussing all things related to our current treatments/surgeries, etc and I honestly don't know how we got to it but I mentioned to her how difficult socializing feels for me now. If you knew me before my diagnosis then you are probably aware that I wasn't exactly a wall flower. I have been hyper social since I was a child and the habit continued into my adulthood; I enjoyed being out around people, talking, drinking, and shooting the proverbial shit. I worked in a bar and could drink with the best of them and socialize with just about anyone I came across. Nowadays? Not so much. And it's not something I can totally pinpoint or explain to be honest, I just can't anymore. As I was explaining this to my fellow cancer-fighting friend she turned to me and said "well yeah you are walking around with an invisible bag of shit on your back and it's just too much" and you know what? She's right, I am carrying around a big ole bag of shit and even I sometimes forget about the extra weight I have.

I find myself still wanting to be social, still wanting to go out and sit at a bar and talk to people and be "part of the world" but then when I actually think of the energy involved in that I completely shut down. I see photos my friends post on social media and occasionally I still start feeling the  F.O.M.S. (Feeling Of Missing Something) or get that ugly jealous feeling, or that self pity "why didn't they invite me" feeling. I know we have all had these feelings at some point and they aren't fun feelings to have, but they come up every now and then. For me it feels like I'm stuck between two places: wanting to be invited and be social, and also knowing that going out is not actually all that fun for me anymore. For starters I'm not drinking alcohol, and maybe this shouldn't be a factor but for me it is. Also have you ever been sober around a bunch of drunk people? It's not all that fun for a variety of reasons but that's a whole other discussion. Honestly I don't think it's the alcohol or the way people behave while ingesting alcohol, I think it's mostly just me. The entire world reacts differently to me now and it almost never feels like a place I fully fit into anymore. We all know at some point we are going to die, but I live with that fact every single day. Every day of my life is spent waking up and fighting for my life. And while a whole lot of that fight has just turned into my daily habits, I still created those habits out of a necessity. So when I'm out and inevitably someone asks if I want a drink or something to eat and I politely say no then the questions start coming. And they keep coming and as hard as I try to just give a blanket answer sometimes it isn't enough of an answer. So every time someone says you don't have to tell anyone about your diagnosis, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, or my personal favorite: oh I thought you were over that and could just talk about it, I know they just honestly don't get it. People are curious as to why you don't eat this or that or drink alcohol, and they ask and some will keep asking until I just have to say: I have cancer. And then people aren't exactly sure what to do and I generally end up hearing about their grandmother or aunt or dad who died of cancer and everyone then gets kinda awkward and sad and we all live in that awkward energy for a bit. But my least favorite part is how I instantly become the victim and the way people look at me changes. It's like you can hear the wa, wa, waaaaaaaaaaa music playing, the buzzkill has arrived and cancer talk has joined the party!

Maybe ultimately it's not other people's reactions to me or how I think the world views me nowadays. Maybe it's just me, maybe I have changed so much that the things I once enjoyed just don't thrill me any longer. Small talk has become increasingly difficult for me, and I can't tell if it's just hard for me to relate to people or if my energy has just dropped to a point that I can only expend the energy on certain things and if I don't deem it important than why waste the energy? Mostly I just end up feeling like a total bitch, which I proceeded to tell my fellow cancer-fighting friend, it was at this point in the conversation where my friend reminded me of that invisible bag I'm carrying around. That as happy as I am or seem there is still this invisible bag of crap that I'm carrying with me, and it's filled with cancer diagnosis', chemotherapy appointments, MRI appointments, fears about how long I'll be alive, and then if I stay alive, what will my quality of life look like? Fear that no one will ever fall in love me because really who wants to take this all on? And furthermore if I continue to be as anti-social as I've been where am I even meeting this person to potentially fall in love with?

I've been stuck at home post surgery for a month now, a month! And before that I wasn't moving all that quick either. And yes I know I haven't fully been stuck at home but my energy is reserved for performing or recording or teaching so most other times I'm just at home. My mom has been here taking care of me for 6 weeks and ensuring I have energy for the fun stuff, while she handles the necessities like grocery shopping and cooking. And while this seems like fun from the outside, staying home all day without a direct sense of purpose is ROUGH. Laying in bed all day only seems fun when it's novelty, not when it's your normal. I know I won't be in this position forever, hell I won't even be in this position for the next 6 months. I'm tolerating the chemo incredibly well and my surgery is healing much quicker than I thought it would. Now as long as the chemo is working then little by little I should be feeling better. Less cancer in the body=more energy for this girl. I keep trying to remember that maybe this is just for now. I have had an entire life filled with being busy and social, would it really be that bad to just retreat for a few months? And then I remember this diagnosis is "permanent" and I start panicking. But just because the diagnosis is permanent doesn't mean the disease in this state is permanent, remission is an option and new treatments are coming "down the pipe" as they say all the time. Could it be that right now I am just in some sort of holding period? Waiting for a cure and trying to live life the best I can in the meantime. It ends up feeling like I'm being lazy or half assing my life, wishing to be the vibrant girl I once was yet knowing that life handed me something I am not totally in control of. Accepting that I have changed and my life has changed is something I am still working on

I was talking to a friend the other day who has been having her own health challenges and she said something to me that I hadn't thought of before, she said "I think your cancer is just a phase in your body, like my illness is in mine. It's something we need to out live and outgrow and I think we will. My sister outlived her lupus, I think you'll outlive your cancer." and I loved that thought. That maybe this cancer is just a phase of dis-ease. Maybe it's not the disease I need to kill, but I just need to out live the dis-ease my body is currently experiencing. Accepting where I am today is the first part and that's the hardest part for me. When I look in the mirror this was not where I expected to be in my mid-30s but it's exactly where I am. When I teach yoga I tell my students to listen to their bodies and where it is TODAY, not yesterday, not tomorrow and certainly don't pay attention to what your neighbor is doing. Pay attention to your body on this day and in this moment and give it what it needs. THAT is being present, and the present moment is all we truly have.

XOXO,

Jenny