Low

I have been depressed the past few days. Not sure why. Could be the holidays. Could be the fact that I have to get back to treatments and second opinions next week-Monday. Could be that I miss my Son, and think about him so very often… But mostly, I think it is because I don’t want to be sick. I don’t want to die before my time.

Well-wishing is all fine and good; many of my friends and family have told me how they are just absolutely certainly that I will not succumb to this cancer. I appreciate that very much – the well-meaning In it. But the fact of the matter is, we don’t know. Nobody knows. And it is the not knowing that makes me depressed from time to time.

I had believed that my life was complicated: difficulties with my Son over the past three years. When I was diagnosed back in September, I was so blinded by an attitude of survival at all cost, I failed to realize that in quite, private times, the reflections may bring much pain – and they do.

I will be so glad when I am done with my treatments. Not only because I will no longer be sick from the chemicals, nor because I will be able to resume my bicycle riding, fishing and other adventures, but because, finally, I will get a prognosis.

If there is anything worse than cancer, it is having to go through chemo treatments for six months without knowing if it is doing any good.