#7 November 9-12

My worst times are at night.

I wake up at 3 a.m. almost every night, the curtain is wide open, and the Man Behind It is pulling all the levers. Flame is shooting up the sides as the giant head speaks, “I am Cancer, the Great and Terrible” This is when the litany of things begins to roll through my mind; surgery, chemo, radiation -the horror of uncertainty. In the daylight, I can remain positive (for the most part,) but the night is a different animal altogether. No ruby slippers either.

 

Last night, I awakened at my traditional 3^rd hour, and I tried to turn over, but our puppy Sydney was so close to me, that I could not move her. We have a joke that Scout, her sister, becomes the 80 pound boneless dog when someone tries to move her to a different position on the bed. Sydney is only 5 months old, but she has already become the 40 pound boneless dog. Try as I would, I could not get her to relinquish the covers, so I half-covered myself with the blankets and sheet and finally managed to fall asleep.

When I do fall asleep at these odd hours of the morning, I find myself having difficulty dreams. I’m sure somebody has given these dreams a more technical title, but I find that I dream about problems I’m experiencing in odd ways. 

For example, many years ago I dropped out of college to marry and have children, always intending to return someday. I began to have dreams about the difficulties of being in school, but always I was in some class where I didn’t know the assignment, or didn’t have the correct book, or sometimes didn’t know where the class was. It was very similar to the actor’s nightmare where you are on stage but you don’t know your lines, the blocking, the play etc. I’ve had that one too. However, when I finally did go back to college, I quit having the school dreams.

Now my dreams are about difficulties of different types such as trying to get to a specific place and unable to find it or trying to communicate with someone but unable to express myself. They always differ, and even now, as I try to recall specifics of these dreams, all I can remember is the frustration. I can only hope that once all this is over, my dream patterns will change for the better. Either that, or the #&*$ dog will get off my covers!

It’s not all bad though. As I have said before, you have to look for the positives, and sometimes, you don’t have to look very far.

A few days ago, I got a card from my best friend in high school. Oh, how long ago that was! We were such typical silly teenage girls. We lost contact sometime in the late 60’s or early 70’s after we both married.  She saw my diagnosis on Facebook, and somehow found my address. It turns out that for several years, we actually lived within a mile and a half of each other and didn’t even know it. Now we have a way to connect.

Yesterday I also reconnected with a very old friend. Someone I have known practically my entire life, with whom I felt closer than a sister, and yet, somehow, we had lost touch. Today, because of this blog and Facebook, we got back together.

Our Mothers were best friends who lived on adjoining sides of a duplex when we were children. When I say I’ve known her practically all my life, I am not kidding. I have pictures of being at her 2^nd birthday party, and she’s a year older than I.

All our lives, the two of us had events happen to us that were very similar.  We both obsessed over Richard Chamberlain (Dr. Kildare on TV) when we were young teenagers. We stayed up all night one night reading movie magazines about him. We saw him in person, and she managed to touch him. I didn’t. I never forgave her for that.

We married at the same age, we were both pregnant with our first child at the same time, and our daughters’ birthdays wound up separated by 4 weeks. Our two daughters then became best friends throughout their childhood standing up for each other at their weddings.

Not surprisingly then, it turns out she had the identical breast cancer that I have (IDC, small, node involvement) only in 2004 – even the same side. Wish I could have been there for her as she is being here for me. We talked for a long time on the telephone, then have texted and emailed since then. As she is an 11 years survivor, it makes me feel much better. 

So maybe not all things about cancer are bad.

Tomorrow is the surgery.  I have made my list, packed my bag, and am preparing for the evening’s ritual cleansing before surgery. I have these packages of wipes – the ones Temp was going to email me. Think about that – take as long as you like. Not only do I have to follow very detailed instructions, but I have to place the package sticker on the instruction sheet, sign and date that I have done the ritual cleansing this evening and do the same thing again in the morning. They mean business on this pre-emptive infection stuff, and that is a good thing.

This time tomorrow surgery will be over.  The cancer will be cut out – at least most of it – preferably all of it. I’ll see what is left of my left breast, and find out how truly irritating the axillary node dissection is.

I’ll be back home Saturday, and depending on how I feel, eventually I’ll write another blog detailing all that went on.

Stay tuned, don’t touch that URL!