Waiting is the hardest part

As Tom Petty once told us, "the waiting is the hardest part".  

My bi-lateral mastectomy is one week away. (https://www.cancer.org/cancer/breast-cancer/treatment/surgery-for-breast-cancer/mastectomy.html)  
My total hysterectomy is four weeks away. (https://www.mayoclinic.org/tests-procedures/robotic-hysterectomy/about/pac-20384544) 
Radiation is somewhere between eight to twelve weeks away. (https://www.cancer.net/navigating-cancer-care/how-cancer-treated/radiation-therapy/what-expect-when-having-radiation-therapy) 

As these new things approach my stomach is churning, my emotions are unbridled, and my mind keeps racing.  Sleep hasn't been coming easily.  When I do fall asleep, my dreams are vivid, chaotic, and bizarre.  I had no time to process being anxious about chemotherapy.  Within a week of my diagnosis chemo had begun.  There was no down time, just treatment.  Waiting for the next stages of treatment is hell on my nerves.  

Lately I've felt an overwhelming need to talk about it, but there isn't always someone there to talk to, and often times when I try to talk about it the words don't come out right.  When the words are flowing freely, often tears follow, which I struggle with.  I hate crying.  In other instances, the person I'm unloading on doesn't understand the significance of me needing to talk about it, or they can't handle me talking about it.  It's been a strange few days, and only seems to be getting worse as April 30th draws nearer.

I've never had a major surgery before.  I had a minor reconstruction procedure when I was eleven (1996), and I had a laparoscopic procedure when I was twenty-six (2011) to remove endometrial scarring in my abdomen.  The extensiveness of a bi-lateral mastectomy makes me feel light headed.  The unknown is my nemesis.  With the hysterectomy, it's being done in a laparoscopic procedure by a robot. I am not as tense about this one, because it's fairly non-invasive.  This mastectomy, however, has me feeling apprehensive.  It's odd... other patients and friends have offered to tell me things, give me pointers, offer some insight, and even when the give it freely I don't want it. I don't want to know.  It's a strange balancing act; nervous about the unknown, but not wanted to hear about others' experiences or get their advice.  I can't stop thinking about it, but I don't want to think about.

Radiation is a bird of another color.  It's only going to be four to six weeks, but in those weeks I won't be able to cuddle with my cat, dog, or my daughter. I should probably limit my exposure to my two sons as well.  That is tough emotionally for me.  I can handle it though, right? RIGHT?!? It's only four to six weeks... I can do this... I hope.

So, back to the bi-lateral mastectomy. It's been three weeks since chemotherapy has been complete. My hair on my head, my eye brows, my eye lashes, my leg hair, etc have all begun to grow back.  Every little ache and pain, however, sends me into an internal panic.  My cancer is in my left breast and left arm pit, but my right breast is sore this week. Boom - paranoia.  I had a sharp pain in my abdomen over the weekend (probably gas), but it sent me into a total crying freak out in the shower Sunday morning.  As fearful as I am of the surgery, I am also afraid of my own body.  It is absolutely terrifying and exasperating to be stuck in this piece of flesh that I know has a disposition toward cancer.  Is it mets? (https://www.cancer.gov/types/metastatic-cancer) Has the cancer spread?  Constant, never-ending fear is all encompassing.

I repeat; waiting is the hardest part.  The four weeks since chemotherapy has ended I have become more and more anxious.  Just one more week... one more week. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uMyCa35_mOg