I have, yet again, grown silent on here. I have a story to tell all of you, not entirely as an explanation of the silence, but just to give a snapshot of a tiny bit of my insanity.

I had my regular follow up with my oncologist yesterday. For the past two weeks, I had hopped on the crazy train – with absolutely zero ability (or so it seemed) to disembark.

Every three months, I have my antigen bloodwork and then my oncology appointment. Every three months, I get just a tad nervous about the appointment. This time, I went totally around the BEND. And it all began with one tiny, seemingly insignificant nightmare.

I have, as you’ve noticed, code names for people. My children, however, chose the code names for my doctors (my reconstructive surgeon they called Dr. Marmaduke, for example). So, this week’ visit was with Dr. Mostaccioli. In my nightmare, Dr. Mostaccioli was enthusiastically reporting that my antigens had gone to 60. He was very happy about it. In the dream, I looked at my Tumour Raider, and asked, “weren’t the numbers supposed to be BELOW 24?” To which she replied in the affirmative. I awakened in a cold sweat – which is no small feat for a menopausal woman, let me tell you. Awakening at roughly the temperature of molten lava? Sure, no problem. Cold sweat was almost an adventure. I tried to laugh off the dream, and go back to sleep. Really, I did.

I just had trouble pulling my normal Jedi Mind Trick on myself.

I am usually very positive, and optimistic, with a touch of Pollyanna thrown in. I will own up to the positive and optimistic, but I really do draw the line at Pollyanna. I just can’t identify with that one. 🙂

So, the very next night I had a second nightmare. In this one, I was trying to avert crises and handle normal daily life, only from a HOSPITAL BED. Unfortunately for the Lara in my nightmare, she was stuck with the task of pushing my hospital bed all around town.

In real life, when she woke up the next morning and said she felt exhausted, I told her it was because she was running all over the place wheeling me around in my hospital bed.

From there, the insomnia began.

From insomnia, I developed flu-like symptoms: my stomach was perpetually queasy, and I even started throwing up. For those of you who know me – this was total misery.

I was still staunchly refusing to acknowledge, out loud, that I was scared to go back to the doctor. And then the fear took on a life of its own. (At this point, you are probably thinking it already had. But, don’t worry, it went exponential on me.)

Before I knew for certain that I had cancer, I knew I had cancer. My instincts were solid in that regard. This time, I was so afraid I couldn’t tell if it was instinctual and that something was really going on with my body, or if I had just started panicking about the sky falling because I hadn’t dealt with all of my feelings yet.

I finally (after being very unpleasant to live with: Really, hello? Not sleeping much and I CAN’T EAT? I’m probably lucky I didn’t go feloniously ballistic on anyone) told Lara I was scared.

Then I burst into tears.

Then we went to see the little one’s school play. What can I say? My sense of timing is bizarre.

The Doctor gave me the all clear – antigens are still below 24. I told him about the 60 nightmare, and he actually MADE JOKES with me about it. He’s such a serious guy so much of the time that I really enjoy it when his dry humour comes out. Then he told me to not have dreams like that again. Yes, Sir!

Cancer is part of my life now, part of Lara’s life, part of my childrens’ lives. Most days, I know there are so many blessings and gifts that I might not have muddled my way around to finding were it not for the swift kick in the a** given to me by being sick. But, sometimes, I get discouraged. I get tired. I want to send the gift of Cancer right back where it came from. I do not want these oncology appointments for the rest of my life. I don’t want that back of the mind reminder anymore.

But, suck it up, Buttercup. That’s the breaks, right? 😉

So, I am back to feeling as normal as I ever am – if you lived in my head, you would understand just how absolutely NOT normal that is. Haha…

Thanks for reading, and blessings to you all!