I just visited a friend of mine on the sixth floor of Legacy Good Sam. This is the floor I spent so much time on when I was sick. I felt so melencholy walking through those doors. My friend was three doors down (not the band) from where I was sick and didn’t see anyone’s mouth because everyone had to wear masks.
I had my Oncology appointment yesterday and it was all good news. I left the appointment almost feeling sad. I felt empty and completely drained. I didn’t think I was going to hear any bad news, but I felt so tired.
I am confused to why good news would make me so sad. I just don’t feel happy right now. I’m not depressed; I’m sad. I’ve had a lump in my throat since leaving the doctor’s office.
I watched my friend take a hit of dilauded. I watched in envy as I saw it hit. I saw the change in his eyes and body. There was a relief. The pain was gone. The frowny face on the pain scale became a smiley face.
I don’t think it’s the attention I’m not getting anymore. I feel like I’m fine being a ‘normal’ person again. I like not being asked all the time if I’m ok. I’m fine, and there is nothing but time that will fix me or not.
I do feel a little mad about having to go through the whole thing. I have no God to blame or a universe that is out to get me. I feel cheated and angry that after spending many years trying to be a good person, I get cancer. While the pain and awful part is over, I have to face this for the rest of my life.
I looked out the window of my friends room and saw those hills again. I saw the Windows where I imagined what those peoples lives were like. I saw the cross I looked at out my window like an omen. I saw the intersection of NW 23rd & Lovejoy and the people with no care in the world but ice cream and Mexican food.
I try to remember that my story will help others. I can help people face this very real and very painful experience. I try to look at it as a way to be helpful to others. I even feel I’ve received more sympathy than I had before.
Mainly I grieve my youth. I am old now. My body isn’t the way it was before and now I’m accepting that it won’t. I’ve played softball a few times and my body feels pain it has never felt before. I worry that one of the things I love is being taken from me.
I guess I had spent a few months where the idea that I had cancer was not quite as often and now it has been in my face again. I’m not sick enough to need any help, but sick enough to feel alone.
You’re not alone. You are beautiful, older, achy and full of words evidentially… Reading this reminded me of the great Raymond Carver. If you haven’t read him, do. ‘Fires’ is a good collection. Thanks for sharing Dave.
David, I’m going through something so similar. Thanks for writing this. There are a lot of unknowns all the time, I feel angry and depressed as fuck. One of my biggest strengths has always been to keep going and put my best foot forward no matter what, but now I’m exhausted. My body is all fucked up and painful, I have to take a chemo drug for the next 5 years that makes me hurt. We are the lucky ones, too. I think about that a lot– try to make gratitude lists, focus on the positive, etc. sometimes the best I can do is just keep going.
I am sitting here alone having coffee at my favorite Stumptown, reading your entry, old beautiful depressing country music playing letting your words wash over me. I am a little further down the road than you, and wish I could say “oh it gets so much easier, there is sudden relief just waiting for you further down the path”. But the reality is that it gets harder. Particularly for those who are willing to feel and share all of it. Gratitude and hanging with those still battling or sicker than you can balance out the rest for a moment, but sadness always remains, and sometimes it grows in the darkness of aloneness. Nothing will ever be the same again, but you can’t share that brand of anger and sadness with those that haven’t had the same journey, it’s not the story they want to continue hearing. I never have been a member of a support group because I didn’t think I could share my authentic feelings. Thank you for sharing, and for letting me feel connected with a like mind and for letting me leave a long personal diatribe on your lovely blog site xox.