I know it has been a few weeks. I have been hiding. Hiding from all sorts of things, hiding from myself the most. I really do not recommend cancer to anyone as an adventure to try. It really sucks! What no one warned me about was the depression at the end. I have had moments in my life where I have had a lot of bad, and felt lost and lonely, but I do not ever remember having a constant feeling of grief, fear, anger, frustration, and utter sadness for so long. I have had times that have brought me to tears, but then I have always been able to find my tools and work my way back to joy. I am hiding because I struggle to find my joy right now. In addition, I feel guilty because I have lost it.
I feel guilty because I should be celebrating now. I am officially seven weeks cancer free. Seven weeks done with cancer treatments. Seven weeks into my new normal. Seven long weeks into healing, and all I want to do is cry, rant, scream and hide in the dark until my joy comes back and I can celebrate life again. I know hiding in the dark, burying myself in senseless, mindless, numbing acts will not get me back to my joy, but it is oh so tempting. Therefore, I have allowed myself to semi-hide. To not worry about facing certain things that I want to do, but the effort to do them is overwhelming, like write on my blog, or track my daily caloric intake, check my yahoo email (that is my junk email account and it is now 1000’s deep…). I am good at hiding when I do not know the answer to something. I walk away from it and let it noodle in my brain until I figure it out. However, I cannot walk away from life.
I have continued to swim and lift weights at least three times a week. I have been trying to watch my eating, avoiding simple carbs and bad fats as much as possible, as I now know which foods are better for me, and which I need to limit. I see the physical therapist weekly and do the exercises and stretches she instructs me to do to keep my shoulder from immobilizing. In addition, I have continued to get a massage every other week.
We went to a wedding in Spokane, and explored Coeur D’Alene, Idaho. I even danced a little bit at the wedding. I let Robert do the drinking this time and became the designated driver. We did an overnight run up to my parent’s house to retrieve all the extra flooring they had so we could store it here and have it on hand when we are ready to remodel the kitchen. I continue to go to Support Group every week, despite wanting to have a major meltdown. I went to “Girl’s Night Out” fundraising event at the Comedy and Magic Club for Cancer Support Community Breast Cancer Awareness month and won restaurant gift cards, dancing lessons at the Fred Astaire Dance Studios, and I started seeing a therapist to help me find, or re-find, tools to help me with this depression.
I am forcing myself to not hide, as much as I want to just curl up in a ball and yell at the world to just leave me alone, but I have allowed a little hiding to calm myself. I had my follow up with Dr. Sikaria (Oncologist). Just as I knew it would be, my MRI and blood work came back all good. No cancer markers elevated and nothing on the MRI. Yet, I wanted to cry, and did cry. I am not hiding the fact that I am struggling with depression. I told her everything. I also told her that while we were on our mini-vacation to Spokane I forgot to take the Gabapentin one afternoon. The alarm to remind me to take it went off, we were right in the middle of something, I figured I would take it as soon as we were done, and just forgot. Like most everything else, unless I write it down and set a reminder on my watch or phone. Later in the day, I noticed my hands and feet were bothering me more than usual, and that was when I realized I had forgotten to take the mid-day dose. However, I also noted I was not as tired. Thus, I stopped taking the mid-day dose. Conversely, my hands and feet do bother me more. Dr. Sikaria told me many things that check up. 1. Chemo is a depressant; it takes months and months (and then some more months) to completely leave your body. 2. Radiation is also a depressant (see number one). 3. Now that we know Gabapentin is making me tired, we can try something else. There are many drugs that can be used to help control the effects of neuropathy that will not make me tired. 4. Depression after going through what I have been through is normal. It is very normal, so normal I should not be worried about it. I am normal. 5. Going back to work now could help; it would provide me with a set schedule and responsibilities, rather than trying to set myself my own new normal, having external factors to be responsible too can assist in setting that new normal. As well as help me realize I have not lost all my brains, and I am a contributing member to something, not just to myself.
She wants me to not only switch from Gabapentin to Lyrica, but to also see a Psychiatrist to help with management of psychotropic drugs since that is what our next move will be in the management of the neuropathy. I have a follow up appointment with her at the end of this month. She had the new prescription sent to Costco for the Lyrica, but our insurance has denied it. Dr. Sikaria is appealing the decision. I am still waiting to find out what happens on that one.
In the meantime, I reached out to our insurance for the referral to a psychiatrist to start that ball rolling. That only took three weeks to get a response…. I called and was sent a list of 25 providers in the area to call. I called one, left a message. No call back. I called again. No call back. I called the next one on the list, left a message, no call back. I called again. This time I received a call back two days later that they are not accepting new patients until January at this point, but their other office is accepting new patients now. I call that office and leave a message, no call back. I called again and left a message, no call back. I decided I would try that office one more time, and low and behold, someone actually answered the phone! They told me to fill out the new patient forms and get them a copy of my insurance card and then they could match me with the correct psychiatrist. I drove over there and filled out the forms and got them my insurance card. I now have an appointment scheduled.
I also had my annual physical with Dr. Levee. She asked how I was doing, and I once again unloaded and cried on yet another of my doctors shoulders. She assured me it was normal. I did complain about my inability to lose any weight. She said the Paxil I was on could be contributing to the weight. I went on Paxil a few years ago to help deal with hot flashes. Yes, it helps reduce the intensity of hot flashes, but then the whole cancer thing kicked in and we were loath to stop this medication. Now with the depression that I feel I am wallowing in, stopping Paxil would not be good. However, we could transition me to something else instead of Paxil that does not have the same weight gain/holding side effect. She saw the notes from Dr. Sikaria about the psychiatrist and told me to talk to them about the possibility of Wellbutrin instead of Paxil. It will not help with the neuropathy, but could possibly be taken in conjunction with Lyrica. She said to make sure I bring up the weight loss with the psychiatrist. She also signed a DMV application for a permanent handicap placard. Walking is going to be hard for a long time…
I am still good at hiding. My therapist (psychological) gave me homework this week. I am to meditate at least three minutes a day and do something joyful every day. That is one of my depression problems, I am afraid of joy, and dismiss everything that I used to find joyful as no longer acceptable. See – hiding. I downloaded an app to help me set small goals so that I could see some improvement. It is called Fabulous, and you start with simple goals – drink water when you first get up. Eat a healthy breakfast. Exercise for 11 minutes. Three weeks I was doing great, and then it wanted me to add something joyful to accomplishing these simple goals, to create that emotional connection to set the habit. And wham, I am now hiding from that app. All my joy is still hiding, and I do not know where or how to find it, so I am hiding. I am hiding out in the open, forcing myself to face some hard things, and allowing myself to ignore others.
I am working with my boss and HR to set up a return to work schedule. I am doing everything I can to help me find my joy again. I write a list of everything I am grateful for every day in hopes that one day that writing that list does not bring me to tears. I allow myself to cry at support group, to let the tears fall while I sew, or watch TV, while I read, while I shower, but not while I swim or my goggles would just fill up… I am ready to be done with crying, but I guess it is not done with me yet.
I am trying so hard to be happy that I am alive, that my cancer is now gone, that I had a complete response to chemotherapy, that I am alive! I am so grateful for my family and friends, my boss, my doctors, my support group, my husband. So many things in my life are so good, and yes, there go the tears. Yet again, I am trying to see through tears… I cannot count on my hands and feet anymore how many times I have cried my contacts right out of my eyes.
My massage therapist told me that even though I feel sad, I am still lovable. And crying is ok, it helps release all the pent up emotions and inflammation, which once the inflammation is down will help me lose weight. She reminded me there is light at the end of this tunnel. She told me to be kind to myself. So I cry in so many places, and hide out in the open while I desperately search for the tools that will help me get beyond this tear filled angst place I find myself now.
Life is finding my joy
The joy is still there, in hiding like you. You have been through one helluva year. Your body has been ravaged not only by a disease that would have killed you, but also by all the measures taken to rid you of it. You have put up a brave front in the battle with that relentless killer, but inside of you all the fear and uncertainty kept trying to come out. Well, baby, it’s out now in the form of depression, unrelenting as the cancer. I completely understand.
You need to let all the grief, rage, fear and sadness out. But you still need to put on your happy face sometimes and allow yourself to enjoy the moment.
Admitting to this depression is the first step toward finding your joy again. Life will never be quite the same. You can never take it for granted again. You’ve had an experience that has proven to you that you are not bulletproof. Your joy may be a bit diminished because you know this now, but you will find it. I know it! LYTTMAB!
Thank you mom. I love you too!
You are doing good. This depression is treatable, curable, survivable! You have to go through the storm to get to the other side. So proud of you.