Sometimes, that’s how I feel…God’s laughing at me. I hope I’m wrong, but it’s hard not to feel that way sometimes.
I prayed every morning, for years, as I got ready for work or as I drove to work. The biggest part of my prayers- “God, please keep my husband and children safe from harm, disease, conditions, or ailments that could take their lives. Please let my children grow up, and God, please let me be around to see them grow up.” Basically, let’s make a deal, God…you and me.
In my darkest moments, when I’m my saddest and angriest about having breast cancer in my thirties, I ask God why-why won’t I get to see my children grow up because, in those moments, I feel like my body is in the guillotine with the blade hovering a hairbreadth from my neck. Sometimes, I still feel like this is a death sentence. It could be. I don’t know.
The closer I get to the end of Herceptin, the more anxious I’m becoming. The closer I get to my next echocardiogram, the more anxious I’m becoming. The closer I get to my next surgery, the more anxious I’m becoming. The closer I get to August, the more anxious I’m becoming.
If everything goes to plan, I have five Herceptin treatments left. If everything goes to plan, I have my last echocardiogram on June 28th. If everything goes to plan, my DIEP reconstruction is on July 28th. If everything goes to plan, maybe I can say I’m in remission by September.
If everything goes to plan.
If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans.
Is God laughing at me? Will I be around in another two years? Five years? How do I stop feeling like God is laughing at me? At A? At our family?
Why is it so damned hard for me to hope I might be a survivor of this disease? Why is it so damned hard for me to see I might be a survivor of this disease?