2 year cancerversary

Last Saturday/Sunday marked 2 years since I found out that I have stage 4 metastatic breast cancer.

I'm glad that I feel better today, emotionally, than I did then.  I for sure thought I would be dead by now. I pray I can still continue with this miacle of being stable. 

So it's been about a month since  I've written.

The steroids didn't help my sciatic pain at all. I called, and the nurse just said to ice it and heating pad and pain killers etc.   It has been so so bad. Sometimes I can't sleep and I don't want to be on these narcotics  either.  I'll talk to him again on Monday.

So, every now and then, I have been speaking with a counselor about some of my feelings and coping with this disease and the realities of dying.

Recently, I've been really frustrated with my mental state.  People call it Chemo brain or a fog. Neurologists call chemo brain similar to severe brain trauma. Either way, it's frustrating.  I've always been and "on top of it" person.  I rarely lost things like my keys. I remembered details and appointments.  Maybe some of it comes with age, but I feel so dumb.  

I can't remember words even 2 seconds after I just said them.  I forget to call people back. I lose things. Can't repeat things people tell me. Maybe this is what dementia feels like?

I feel like people think I must be really flakey.  I told my therapist this and he said "but people that know you, know you have cancer"  This is true, but people don't know that cancer and the drugs can cause all of these things.  My hair is growing back and I look normal, so I must be feeling normal or thinking normal and I'm not.

I've always been a very social person and now I just don't try.

I'd like to get a job of sorts, but don't feel like I can apply for a traditional job because tomorrow my treatments might change. Cause tomorrow I may be in too much pain to go out or just not feeling well.  I want to be able to be reliable.

These are the things that have been filling my brain lately.  Also my mom.  I still think that I haven't been able to truly mourn appropriately. Everything is cancer cancer cancer.  I really miss her. I wish so much that she could give me a hug and tell me everything will be okay.  That my kids are going to be okay, that Kevin is going to be okay.  The kind of comfort that only your mom can give.

I miss her so much.