The past couple of days have been interesting. This is the 5th day since my Thursday dose of Xanax and I am finally starting to feel human again. It is difficult to put into words how I’ve felt. Let’s just say that the dips of the cancer roller coaster ride that foster isolation for the patient are made more palpable with the addition of medically-induced fuzziness. I have told several people that I’ve felt “not right in my head” over the days since my last Thursday radiosurgery. This morning, I’m starting to feel like my old self. I just wish it could be the old self without cancer.
Last night I met with the planning team for the 2011 American Cancer Society Crystal Ball. I’m the honoree and with all the goings on in our lives over the past 15 weeks, I haven’t been much help to this wonderful group of people. Being able to sit and talk last night and see all the good work that is being done in my name for the benefit of the ACS was good medicine for me. I left there, still in my Xanax funk, but uplifted at the same time.
Last night I learned about someone’s friend who has had recent RCC surgery and has already had a return of his cancer. Another friend of mine has contacted me in the past few days to tell me about a friend of her’s who is facing upcoming RCC surgery. I have made myself available to talk to these folks to do what I can to shed some light on their upcoming days. I hope they’ll get in touch with me. It seems to help me to be able to help someone else.
Cancer creates families. Like a group of people struggling to keep their heads above the water during a tsunami, the members of this family are thrown together, bounced apart and pitched back into each others’ faces while we all ride the peaks and valleys in our own time. Quite together and quite apart. Lives moving to different beats, but somehow not quite in tune with the world around us.