As a person with MBC, I do wonder “why me”.  My mom is a firm believer in “everything happens-or doesn’t-for a reason”.  Everyone has heard “God only gives us what we can handle”.  If you believe in past lives, you get what you deserve.  Having done past life regression, I have a soul that tries to ease the pain of others.

I grew up not wanting children.  I hated playing with dolls, I didn’t have the imagination to give those plastic things personalities and lives and preferred to read or draw.  If it wasn’t an animal, I didn’t want to hold it.  Give me a puppy to hold, not a baby, and I was happy.  I can’t remember how old I was when I let everyone know I didn’t want children, but I knew it right away.

I never got married.  Sure, I thought about it but I could never picture myself growing old with someone.  To that end, I could never picture myself growing old.  I could never imagine what it would be like to be out of my 50’s.

I remember people looking at me like I was nuts to not want to follow the natural progression of humans-marriage, children, old age-but I could never picture it.  I could never see myself in those roles, all I saw was darkness when I tried to envision it.  And it made me feel really uncomfortable to even try to go there.

Taking all of this into consideration, shouldn’t the question be “Why not me”?    Was my whole life a setup for this?  Am I still meant to ease the pain of others?  Will my death result in someone else living a better life?

Getting ready for my CT scan this morning and like everything else in my life that I don’t especially want to do,  I drag my heals and leave home at the last possible second.  This is unusual for me because I prefer to be early.  I got there 10 minutes before my appointment rather than the suggested 15.  Got in there and told her about my last scan fiasco (see pin cushion).  She was careful but did say that my veins go like (insert hand signal for wavy, zig-zaggy) and took her time and got the line in just fine.  Said I should get them to come get her next time I need to do this.  LOL

The only issue today was that the bleeding didn’t stop as quickly when they pulled the line out and I didn’t notice it until I was getting dressed.  The scan reception area didn’t have any band-aids so that I could trade in the blood-soaked cotton.  Went down to the blood lab and they were backed up and busy.  Back to the scan area and they were able to grab one of the CT techs to fix me up.  I don’t like drama, seriously, but it sure seems as if I am not able to accomplish what should be “routine” situations without it going askew  to one degree or another.

I went into work after.  I do miss being there and always feel good when  I visit.  I also know I made the right decision about going on disability.  I was wiped out after and came home for a nap.

…is a real thing.

I have a CT scan tomorrow morning and for me the anxiety also includes the line they need to put in for the contrast dye.  Needles and I have never had a good relationship.  It isn’t that I just don’t like them, they don’t like me either.  The last CT I had 6 months ago, she blew 2 veins and had trouble with the 3rd one then he came out and put the line in my hand beside my thumb.  Ya shoulda seen my arm after.  Pretty blues and purples…

The anxiety is also the wait from when I have the scan and when I get to know the results. My appointment with my oncologist isn’t until November 13th.  Will it be good results?  The cancer has shrunk or stopped growing?  Will it be bad, cancer is still spreading?  I get that I can’t do anything about it till then but that doesn’t stop the mind from creeping into those bad thoughts.

Lately when I’ve done my daily morning body check, the left side of my pelvis feels like it’s calmed down, but the right side has been irritating.  The left side is still stabbing me if I do too much, like the laundry or grocery shopping, but overall, I don’t feel too bad.  I think the naps when I need them and being able to lay down when I need to has helped the stress on my body.

But oh the scanxiety…

Today is National Metastatic Breast Cancer Day and to celebrate it, I’ve been reading up on metastatic breast cancer.  I should say MORE reading up on it.  I guess I keep hoping that somewhere I’ll come across that obscure miracle cure that not too many people know about.  The statistics suck.  2 to 3 years from diagnosis to death is the median and that may be extended with treatment, 5 years if I’m lucky.  As with all statistics, it can be longer and it can be shorter.  For me, I’m going with the median.  It will be awesome if I happen to live longer.

Common themes in articles I’ve read today:

• There is no cure, but there is treatment.  Treatment is meant to prolong our lives. If we are lucky it will slow the progression of MBC and mute the physical pain we feel from it.  Treatment won’t make it go away.
• I will die with MBC.  I will die because of MBC.   Unless I get into a bad car accident, have a heart attack, etc.  which is kindly repeatedly pointed out to me.  I hope(yes-hope!) no one else I know has to wake up every morning wondering if today is the day mBC takes over their body and they can’t function anymore.  I hope no one else has to wonder if the plans they make for next year will really happen.  I hope no one else has to wonder when, not if, their bones will fracture.  I hope no one else has to go through the excruciating pain I’ve had and will have again.
• Few want to speak about mBC. I get that.  It’s hard to talk to someone you know is terminal, but for me, I’ve come to terms with it.  What ever time I have left, I have left.  Ask questions, offer help.  Just be there.  Don’t hide because you don’t know how to act or what to do.  Sometimes sitting quietly is all that is needed to chase the fears away for another day.  I need to talk about it, with friends, with family.  I need them to know that I’m ok and that mBC isn’t contageous  🙂
• You look so good! I love this one.  I may look healthy and normal till the day I die.  I’m glad I look good.  I’m glad the cancer is internal.  Sometimes I wish it showed on the outside, but really, I’m glad it doesn’t.  Take my word for it.  I’m terminal with side effects from the medication but I can hide those for a short time.  I’m glad I look good.

Mom and I had a couple of conversations about it while I was visiting her.  One of them was that they may come up with a cure for me and I shouldn’t give up.  I haven’t given up but if they have found something it won’t help me in the time I have left after clinical trials and everything else that goes into allowing a drug or protocol to be approved.  I’ve accepted my situation which is the best thing for me.  Don’t get me wrong, it sucks that I have this and I really wish I could blame it on something or someone but I can’t.  Until they know what causes it, there won’t be a cure.

The last couple of days I’ve tried to find other MBCers who have online journals that I could follow but so far I’ve found far more of people who have passed away from mBC than people who are still alive.  That’s sad. Really sad.

I don’t have a big bucket list, only a few things I want to do, and one of them is to pet a wolf. I’ve always had an affinity for them and have always wanted to not only be in their presence, but to get close enough to look into their soulful eyes and feel their fur with my fingers. I got close this weekend thanks to my sister. Where she lives a guy has a wolf hybrid, 90% wolf. My sister had him bring “Marro” over so I could meet her. She was beautiful. I got to pet her and feed her and just be with her. I wish the weather had been better, I could have spent hours with her. If I don’t ever get to pet a 100% wolf, I can still cross this off my bucket list.