I’ve been purging my apartment.  I’m going to have to move, maybe twice, and don’t want to pack all this stuff, and when I was first diagnosed with MBC, I wanted to purge so my family has less to go through when the time comes.

Thing is, this is hard.  Deciding what to keep, what to donate, and what to throw away is hard.  I can look at all my stuff and sitting here, it’s easy to let go of it.  That gets donated, that, why was I hanging onto that? I can toss it.  Then it comes time to actually put them in boxes and I start to bargain with myself.  Well, they will be upset if they don’t see it after I’m gone or, who knows. I may still want to use that even though I never have. Oh and there’s the “squirrel” scenario. I’m busy tossing stuff into the boxes and a bunch of pictures or a book, or something grabs me and I forget what I was doing. And I have to stop purging because I get nowhere at that point..

I thought this would be easy and I’d have it done in no time but at the rate I’m going it’s going to take me 6 months.

Hope is one of those words that sometimes makes me feel uncomfortable.  People say it a lot and treat it like it’s a frilly happy thing or by saying it that everything will be better.  I always hear things like “I hope you feel better.” or “I hope it works out for ya.” and my favorite, “Without hope, you have nothing.”

Hope is spoken a lot when it comes to me and cancer.  “Don’t lose hope that they’ll find a cure.’ or “Don’t stop hoping that you’ll live a really long time.” I’ve always felt that hope means expectation and for me expectations never turn out for me.  I was told once that expectations are premeditated resentments and that’s true for me.   I prefer to be pleasantly surprised when things, anything, goes my way rather than resenting that I hoped for it and it didn’t turn out.

When it comes to me having cancer, I’m not hoping for a cure or hoping I’ll be stable enough to have a relatively long life because I don’t want to be resentful if those things  don’t happen.  I have cancer, terminal cancer, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me because I am not acting like I don’t have it. I’m not permanently depressed or suicidal because I’m not “hoping”.  I live each day as it’s given to me and each day that I wake up is one more day that I am here.  Without expectations.

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I moved my blog.  The old one is being directed here but you’re better off updating your bookmark.  The redirect won’t last forever.

I got my car back today.  Sooner than expected, and they were able to salvage my car lashes.  I’m so pleased 🙂

 

Had my oncology appointment today. My tumor markers are still holding steady around 60. “It’s not stopping it.” he says. “It’s slowing it down.” I say. He nodded. My white blood count is still low but that’s expected. We went through the whole…how are you feeling…anything new? Any changes? He still seems confused as to why I don’t use the pain meds I have. I told him again that if I walk too much or carry things then the pain hits but it goes away after a while if I rest. “Exertion.” he says and nods. I told him because the pain goes away I won’t take the pain killers, if it didn’t go away I would. I don’t have to see him for another 2 months and before then, he’s scheduling me for another CT scan.
I asked him what my options were for treatment if I moved back home. After talking about it, they aren’t the best. If I move back home, I’d be routed out of Victoria, and my cancer Dr would be there because then I’d be in the BC Cancer Agency circle. (he isn’t under their “bubble” apparently. I’m not sure how that works.) The agency would assign a GPO to me back home. The GPO can’t make decisions, he just monitors me so anytime there’s something wrong I’d be going back to Victoria. And I’d be going to Victoria for the monthly appointments. ew. Just ew.
Another option is to continue to see him (“I don’t care what your address is”. he says) and make a monthly trek back here. I’d prefer to keep seeing him. He knows my history and I’ve been seeing him for years.
The problem with both of these is if there are complications I won’t be close to any real help.
Another option is to just stay here until I decide I don’t want anymore treatment, then move home.
None of these appeal to me. Decisions, decisions.
Then he started talking about “expecting” to treat me for years to come and that I’ve got time to make decisions. I said “We didn’t expect me to get MBC, we expected when the breast cancer was gone, it was gone.” “Good point.” he says.
So here I am again, back to the old wondering WHEN.

I watched Stand Up To Cancer last night and found myself crying at the hope they give. I wasn’t feeling hopeful for me, but began to think they may find better treatment for my type of cancer before the next family member gets it too.
Then I started thinking about all the different organizations that ask for our money in the hope (there’s that word again) of being able to find a cure for all of the different cancers. If you donate, how do your make the choice of who gets your money? I raised money for CIBC Run For The Cure because it was in Canada and targeted breast cancer. Stand Up To Cancer is Canada and the U.S.
Which, of all of the different agencies that ask for donations, has a better chance of finding cures? The one that targets specific cancers? The one that gets the most donation dollars? The one that uses the least of the donations for admin costs?
All of them have their good points and they’ve found out some truly life-saving stuff over the years but I wish all the donation money went into one big cancer pot with one big plan. I think they’d have a better chance of finding cures or better treatments that way.