The Silent Treatment
It’s so unusual that I haven’t posted anything this week. It’s not as if cancer has been far from my mind – quite the opposite, as I’m sure you can understand. It’s been hard to think about anything else. And yet, I haven’t felt like there’s been a post worth sharing kicking around in my brain.
Whenever I share bad news, I sort of hole up for a while. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to anyone, but I feel so BAD having to draw everyone’s attention back to me and my ridiculously persistent illness. I’d rather talk to you about Sex and the City 2, long weekend plans, chicken recipes, oh, ANYTHING else besides my effin’ lungs. I’m not sticking my head in the sand. I certainly don’t mind talking about it, but I hate knowing that my illness is causing distress. Which it is, don’t lie to me.
I know I’m not the center of the universe. But I can hear it in people’s voices, see it in their faces when they bump into me — they’re bummed I’m sick. I hate that. Not that you’re not allowed to feel your emotions around me, but I have a “no crying” rule for a reason. And I’m not past the angry-pissed-off-frustrated part of the bad-news-reception emotional cascade, so I’m not ready to cheerlead for myself yet. I’ll get back to you.
Have a great long weekend – maybe some time in the pool will cheer me up. Gotta get my Vitamin D, ya know.
Photo courtesy Edward Feather.
I'm a two-and-a-half time ovarian cancer survivor who is not only determined to make it to sixty but also to look damn good while getting there. My two boys, husband, and dog are counting on me to get out of bed every day, so I might as well wear something cute and make each one COUNT. I'd love to hear from you about your odyssey - sharing makes it all easier to take. And laugh at.
The Carcinista 