Dear All,It is hard to believe that we are now in December...
I have had a tearful patch of late. The need to let the tears fall and simply "be" in that release. Not fight it, not deny it, not try to plug it up. I know that the tears stem, in part, from the side effects of chemo, which this cycle hit me in a "delayed effect" several days after my night in hospital. Great fatigue, a "foggy/fuzzy" head, a general feeling of being "off". I have had frequent nose bleeds as my platelets are rock bottom, so I walk around with a drippy nose and blood-stained tissues that do little for the morale. I know that the tears also stem, in part, from the weariness that comes from fighting the f~*&er 24/7. I am unrelenting - this f~*&er does not deserve an inch of me or of a reprieve. I hit it from all sides, all of the time: chemo, nutrition, mind, while showing it that I am living my life, that I am owning my life, that it is my life. I know that the tears also stem, in part, from my wishing that the finish line was closer, that I was no longer in this marathon, that my worries were more mundane.
But I know that the tears mostly stem from the fact that I am fast approaching the anniversary of my diagnosis. And the emotion of that day is as vivid and visceral to me now as if it were yesterday. I cry because of what I have gone through and because of what I have accomplished. I cry because I want to wake up from this nightmare and because I dream, with such conviction, about my tomorrows. I cry because the hills feel so steep at times and because I have stood at the top of them still strong and victorious. I cry because I have never wanted health so badly and because I envision the day when the words "all clear" will be mine once again.
So, I let the tears fall. I let the tears "be". And then I breathe and count my blessings. And tell the cancer f~&er to go f~*k itself.
And I hold my wonderful James, and tell him that his mama is one tough cookie, and that even when the tears fall, she is strong, she is hopeful, she is determined, and she believes.
Hugs to all.
Ciao Alessandra, piangere é catartico, cosí tiri fuori tutte le tue emozioni e le lasci uscire liberamente! Certo, immagino le emozioni che si stanno sovrapponendo, pensando all'anno scorso...Penso che nessuno di noi dimenticherá dove era, cosa stava facendo, quando la notizia del tuo cancro ci ha raggiunto...Pensa a quanti passi in avanti hai fatto in questo anno, dove eri e dove la tua forza di volontá e di vivere ti ha portato...perché questa maratona é stata lunga, ma il traguardo non é lontano....e perché io penso che tutti noi non vediamo l'ora che il ricordo di quel momento venga completamente cancellato dalla notizia che tu finalmente lo hai sconfitto! Ti abbraccio e ti mando un forte bacio in questa fredda serata di Dicembre!
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