It’s one thing to be told that there’s no cure for what I have and the plan is to try and prolong my life. It’s another to read “Terminal cancer. Treatment for palliative intent.” Kinda puts a different spin on the whole thing. I’v been plodding along for the last 7 months knowing that this thing is going to kill me eventually. Hearing it in my mind hundreds of times a day. For some reason reading it in black and white shocked me. And really scared me. I plod along every day now wondering if I just had my last birthday. Will this be my last Christmas? What is going to be my last milestone?
This is most definitely a very personal “ailment”. I’ve been lucky enough to meet people (on Facebook of all places) that are in the same situation as I am and it really helps to be able to talk to someone who just gets it. Everything from the morbid thoughts to the heavily laced sarcasm. And I don’t feel guilty talking to them about it or ranting about it.