Thoughts for Today

I managed to fill pretty much every waking hour doing a massage today. Giving a total of 5, so that’s good. Driving to the island this morning, I just started crying and I cried all the way across the Sound, onto the island, and then all the way to my clients house to Maury Island.
Crying because I thought about how easy it is for anyone other than a Survivor to tell me that I should, and usually with a capitol SHOULD do chemo again. Its easy for a non-Survivor to say YOU CAN DO IT. When noone in my life, not a single person was with me for all the hell. The depth of despair, the fearful nights alone, the endless egg and toast, the endless doctor visits, each and every single radiation appointment I had to endure. I did just say, RADIATION. For some reason going through this whole thing, numbed me. And maybe, even has numbed you as a reader since you’ve been following me on this journey for over a year now.
So, I wrote someone close to me a letter today. And told that person, to not tell me that I should or shouldn’t do anything anymore. If that person really wants to be there for me, then be there. Allow me, the Survivor, the one who has to be alone during this hellish fight for my life, the respect to support my decision. To respect my choices. And to not judge me, when I say I am exhausted, and if this is cancer, #1 and #3 are still only looking good to me.
I am scared. I was good for a few days. But then I felt the lump again, and its hard, and it freaks me out. My friend Keiko is flying in tomorrow morning to be with me, and I just can’t wait to snuggle in bed and watch movies. I am really sad.
Last night I found out that a dear massage client of mine, was diagnosed with Breast Fucking Cancer. I was numb as I spoke with her. I was in soldier mode. I heard her soldier, I heard her questions, I heard her beginning the digging deep, I heard that she is still reeling, I heard me coming out of my shock induced comma to finally extend a true and honest and brave hand to her. Its time to get over this hurdle, and to join up with my beloved sisters and brothers in Cancer and start supporting the newly diagnosed and telling them what no other can do. I can look them in the eye, and tell her, that she will, (I know you are reading this dear J) but you will get through this. You can and you will. This time is for and only about you. Dig deep. Its gonna be a hellish ride, but you my love, will make it through.

Update:
Surgery tomorrow. Results next week.