Holiday Wrap-Up 2012

By the light of the tree

Ah, Christmas. It was a beautiful whirlwind of food, loud family gatherings, quiet moments lit only by the tiny white lights of our tree, giving, receiving and downtime. The time span is the same each year, but I can never believe how fast the season goes by. The parties will spill into January with New Year’s Eve celebrations and post-holiday gatherings, but all the hype and sparkles of the season have begun to fade.

We did get a white Christmas here in Connecticut and the snow has continued. Today the sun is shining on a beautiful blanket of white, so it finally feels like legitimate wintertime. Sammy Dog has already managed to slice her foot open on some ice – an annual sacrifice to the season’s new terrain.

This year felt somewhat surreal to me – just a little off. Maybe it was the milder than usual weather leading up to Christmas. Maybe it was the tragedies of the Newtown Elementary School shootings and the tangible sadness felt for those beautiful families. Maybe it was because we rekindled some old traditions and tried to start some new ones, which can bring on a slew of emotions. Maybe it was because I was suffering painful and nauseating constipation from my treatment or that my back and hip pain is again severe. Maybe it was because I continually find myself dumbfounded to have been here for it: my fourth Christmas with cancer. Not sure what that means. I took it all in in a very quiet way, sitting back and observing and appreciating.

Not As Easy As It Looks

I haven't been able to write. I still don't know if I am able to write, but I'm going to give it a try. I'm not certain why it's been so difficult. I think it's a combination of not wanting to dole out difficult news to those that read this and of the memories that flood in every time I open this blog page. But this is my outlet and this is my honesty. I haven't been feeling "inspirational" or "heroic" or "positive." For really the first time, everything has caught up with me.

I have been living with focused blinders on and now am suddenly feeling all the punches from nearly three years all at once. I've gone at this with sheer determination and I know that what I am writing here will come as a surprise to many, but I am asking for your understanding and support. I know that this is not what always appears on the outside. But I believe that it is important for everyone dealing with their own medical issues and for those watching a loved one go through it to understand that we can't be smiling all the time and that it gets very tiring to hold it all together. I think that that's okay. But I don't think that it's easy to admit.

Life has been very difficult over the past month. Things have been more difficult for me to handle than they have ever been. I've been dealing with a lot of anger, frustration, and feelings of defeat and helplessness. I'm uncertain and uncomfortable. I'm unfocused and unstable. I get very sad and very mad and very frustrated. I'm finding it much harder to pull out of the low places. I'm finding many less places of elation. I resent other people and get wildly jealous of their happiness and wish desperately to find my own again. I feel like I cry all the time, but at the wrong times.

I hate being on treatment again. I hate that I have no idea if it's working. I hate the feelings that the Hodgkin's disease is flaring up. I hate the fear of GvHD. The Revlimid has been primarily well tolerated except for tremendous fatigue; I am so tired all of the time but so anxiety ridden that I can't sleep in the way I need to be sleeping. My eyelashes have thinned again, nearly all of them that I worked so hard to re-grow after transplant have been showing up on cotton balls and on my pillow. I again have the eyes of a cancer patient and it's incredibly unnerving.