I am tired of having cancer. Tired of pain. Tired of fatigue. Tired of chronic digestive emergencies. Tired of feeling “less than.” Yesterday evening I attended my 35th high school reunion. I had a day of pain and digestive issues, but pulled myself together and cleaned up well. Only my best friend who sat next to me had any idea how bad I felt. That is the way I like it. I don’t want to be “the cancer patient in the room.”
Today there was no pulling myself together. I wore my pajamas all day. I moved very little and slept much of the day. I had a short pity party when Dave was home and a really long one after he left for work this evening. This pretty much sums up my life with MBC. Some days I can focus on living and other days I am just tired of feeling sick every single day of my life. Some days I can pretend and other days I am a sobbing mess for Dave to pull out of the depths.
I was reading Lamentations in The Message. I find help there on the dark days. My prayers are angry tonight. “What the fuck, God? “ I believe God understands. I feel held. I wait for tomorrow to see what it will bring. I count the hours until Dave is home from work. I trust that the worst is never the worst.
I am not in control. 