Thursday, August 14, 2008


Remember last winter? I know it is hard to do, what with the dog days of summer inflicting themselves on the Northern Hemisphere, but give it a try. Or go back and read my blog entries for December and January, whatever works. I wasn't really living at home, I was living in hotels while working out of town, coming home on weekends to do laundry and pet the cat. I was still in this state of location limbo when I was diagnosed. My super boss at-the-time cut my assignment short and sent me home.

This may upset some folks, but I came home fully expecting to die. Don't get me wrong, I was obviously hopeful, but you hope for the best and expect the worst. There were at least two points in the last six months (wow, really only six?) when I was found lying on the floor, thinking that I was dying right then and there and geez, why hadn't anyone vacuumed/mopped? I limped home and crawled into my tiny apartment, into myself, thinking that there was a good chance that I would never come out again.

So, now that we're (yes we, you all helped) past the worst of the treatments and it looks like I am going to be okay, I find myself still firmly entrenched into this little shell. I force myself to go out and run errands, but only because it's good for me, not because I want to. I go to the pool to swim (17 laps so far) to help lose the chemo weight and to help my arm heal, but I don't talk to anyone. I visit with friends if they have the time and I feel well enough, but I keep my hat on and try to keep things short. I am mysteriously sleeping or sick every knit night. I am afraid.

It is going to take a lot of work and much tugging, but I think I can pop myself out of this shell. I might be able to function as a snail, but I haven't heard of that many happy snails. I want to be a cuttlefish.


errs said...

Did you mean to link to a post of what looks like 2 cuttle fish "having fun" and with a third watching???? LOL

Just take it one day at a time. You're still around. You're blogging more, you're commenting more. Your soul needs to recover just as much as your body.

If you take too long, I'll just go out there with the dogs and there's no way you can stay in the house when you're attached to 3 mastiffs.

Love you!

Aunt Kathy said...

The fact that you recognize this is proof that you are healing and emerging from it.

I see a cuttle fish peeping through already.

Moorecat said...

Maybe you're more of a hermit crab; once you've grown a little more, that shell will seem tight and uncomfortable, and emerging from it will be a relief.

Keep going...

KnelleyBelley said...

I've been where you are. I get it. I wanted to hide myself away from the world. I don't know if I wanted to protect myself or if I worried that friends would treat me differently - like they felt sorry for me. What aunt kathy said was correct - you are aware of what's going on and you're going to come out of it. When you're ready, give yourself a push. Make yourself go to knit night and I'm pretty sure you'll be glad you did. You need to start making yourself live like someone who HAD cancer - not someone who has it. It's gone. They took it out of you and have given you all of this treatment to hunt down any little strays. It all gets better from here. I promise. I'm 2 1/2 years from diagnosis and I swear to you that I have many, many days when it never even crosses my mind that I had breast cancer. Really. Thinking of you!

bubbebobbie said...

Hi Sweet Becka,
I think you spelled it wrong you want to be a Cuddle Fish. Now I kind of prefer soft and fluffy, but if you want cold and slimey, well it is summer.

You have done so well and we are so proud of you. Keep up the good work, ninja knitter!

I was at Especially Heather's Blog today, my very brave blog buddy, and she had this song on her blog. I thought you would be blessed by it.

Cuddling you in California, bubbebobbie yarnyenta's mom