A couple nights ago, I scarcely slept. I don't know why. Last night, I was in bed before 8:30, and I slept like a rock. I woke up early this morning. I was physically tired, but mentally wide awake. I went into work at 6 again. I've been pushing myself, and working hard. I am again tired tonight. Cara is out with friends, so the house is quiet. No thumping music. I need the quiet time. Now that treatment is done, I'm at a strange place. I feel like the battle is done, but not really. I don't know how to explain it any better than that.
I began to read other blogs about people with cancer. Tonight, for whatever reason, the blogs I came across were angry blogs. 'Fuck cancer!' Anger at stupid people, and their stupid questions. 'WHY? WHY? WHY?!!!!!' One blog basically said, 'I'm mad as hell, and that is cancer, and if you can't take it, leave.' The comments were all along the lines of "You go, girl!" and "Thanks for telling it like it is..."
I went from one blog to another, to another. I can't identify. I don't feel that way now. Although my emotions sometimes got the best of me, I didn't feel that way then, for the most part. There were brief flashes of emotion. It was an emotional time. Once I got angry watching a biker riding down the road on his motorcycle. His long hair flew about his helmetless head, and he was smoking a cigarette as he flew by. It just seemed unfair, and the anger bubbled up. But I came home, went to bed, read for a while and contemplated things. That rage didn't last. Reading these blogs, I kept thinking how much energy it takes to sustain a rage. I just couldn't. My energy was going to fighting cancer. As I flipped through these blogs, I came upon this one, and I quickly skimmed an entry. It was so calm, and lovely. She was so beautiful and matter of fact. Her thoughts seemed to mirror my own. I went back to the beginning of her blog and read all of her entries. I understood her thoughts and I loved her outlook. There were longer lapses in her blogging and I thought "She has thrown herself back into life, and living..." There was one final entry, listing her date of birth. Her date of death. It hit me like a punch. It was so unexpected that I just cried. All I could think of was this...what if you need to be mad as hell to beat cancer? What if wisdom and contemplation and praying are not what, in the end, wins? Just that quickly, the bottom fell out of my stomach.
I am tired, and I am confused, and I am depressed. My shoulder has been aching since mid radiation and it is throbbing now. My hands hurt. Suddenly I want my husband. Suddenly I want my children home, and loud music, and the confusion of all their voices. But my house is quiet, except for the gentle snoring of my big old dog. I decide that I've spent enough time on the computer this evening. I've got dishes to wash.