Not going there

The following is a mantra of the brain cancer (and other cancer) communities:

Don’t go there till you get there.

If “there” is my worst nightmare, we are there.

However, I guess the point is that I should not think about the fact that fall and winter are on the horizon, and that if my father survives that long (it would be past the prognosis of this beast) then it will be even more of a challenge to get him to his doctor appointments, etc.

I remember my teenage years, when the biggest worry in my life was attending a new school, or how I’d do on a 7th period history test. Or that I would end up not going to my dream college (I did not) and end up at Big State U (I did, and it turned out fine). I hadn’t chosen a major yet, so I hadn’t made the decision to pursue a field with no jobs–a decision which has dogged my whole career and which I regret.

That must be why people say high school is one of the best times of your life. It sure didn’t feel like it at the time, but I guess the point was I had no idea what lurked in the future and that it would, for the most part, be much worse than zits or a history exam. That while my friends all settled down and started families, I’d spend a decade having awful relationships and heartbreaks, living far from home in places I hated for the sake of my career, and ultimately losing the career anyway. That I would spend years constantly at the hospital, surrounded by illness and death. That pregnancy would be so, so difficult and that I would have to raise a baby in the middle of all of this chaos–and that as much as I’d longed to be a mother, the constant responsibility for another life would not feel like much of a joy at all.

Many people say “the best time in your life” thing about your thirties too. If this is the best time in my life I shudder to think what that means about the future.

But I guess I won’t go there, until I get there.

I am sorry for all of these sad blog posts. I was a happy person once. And if you go back to the beginning of this blog, even when my mom was going through chemo and radiation I still managed to be reasonably happy. It’s just recently, since my dad’s diagnosis, all gotten to be too much.

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4 thoughts on “Not going there

  1. The Presents of Presence August 15, 2014 / 12:56 am

    It’s not that I like that you are suffering so, but I want you to know that there is someone here listening to you and sending you healing hugs. You are not alone. ♥

  2. Amalia Andre (@AmaliaAndre) September 30, 2014 / 11:25 pm

    I am so sorry… I wish I could help but I know I can’t.
    Maybe take comfort in knowing that this too shall pass?

  3. sunrainlilies October 11, 2014 / 4:24 am

    Thank you, Amalia. You do help, just by commenting here and letting me know that someone out there cares. Indeed, all things pass. You lose the brain cancer and the horrors that go with it, but the price is that you also lose your loved one. Time will tell what life is like on the other side….

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