I find myself asking myself the following two questions:
Will I live better?
Will I live longer?
I recently found out I have cancer – again. The third time over all.
This time it is called recurrence. Localized recurrence.
At this point it appears localized, and I have no reason to doubt that – but recurrence makes one super fucking skeptical.
This news is borderline traumatic. I was hoping for some good times where I could enjoy being considered cancer free.
The thing is chemo and radiation did not work so there is that – where to go next.
I did decide on a bilateral mastectomy
and I am pondering reconstruction
but not sure of what is next….
but the wind has been knocked out of my sails
and I am floundering
I know that I want to live
and I get so upset when I can’t envision holding my grandchildren
or seeing my son age into the man he will become
and so I push myself to see those things, and they are murky
My head space is filled with so much right now, everything is cloudy.
“I feel like I’ve swallowed a cloudy sky”
― Haruki Murakami,