Breakfast Date

I had a sunrise breakfast date with my husband. It was very romantic.

I mean, it was at a rest stop on the highway on the way to Dana-Farber, but still nice.

But I’m not sick

I don't look sick. I don't feel sick. But I can't concentrate or get anything done. I'm snapping at the boys, and staring off into space. I sat in the car today while the baby slept for an hour and a half. Normally I would find some work to do, and revel in the extended streak of quiet. But today I just sat there.

I don't even want to play with my excel spreadsheets.

I don't want to knit. I don't want to read. I don't even want to eat my feelings. I'm numb right now.

But I have a toddler

What am I supposed to do with this child? He's two. I work from home. He's with me 24 hours a day.

I asked the Nurse Navigator if they had a program where a volunteer could watch him if I had to bring him to an appointment. Bless her, she tried to hide the fact that no one has ever asked her that before.

One hospital is near my parents. One hospital is near my friends. One hospital is near none of them. Should't I be choosing the doctors and hospitals based on where the best treatments would be, not on where I can find a babysitter?

I can't wait to call the local support center and ask if I can bring my baby to fucking healing imagery painting class.

Also fucking healing imagery painting. What the fuck is that?

My husband said that it would make the old ladies feel right at home, because it's like the class at the nursing home. Great. How about "power-networking for cancer patients"? "Managing Chemo on MCAS testing day"? "Mama needs a drink, and other things you're not allowed to have anymore"?


I'm still in the angry phase, clearly.


Last night I searched "breast cancer with young children". Every hit was how to talk to kids about cancer. That's not what I want. I want how to deal with the practical. How do I change his diaper if I'm not supposed to lift him? How do I keep up with them if I'm hurting?


I know I know, people will help. If I ask, people will help. But how do I ask someone else to mother my children, when I don't know how long this will last?

The Club

It's like I've been inducted into a club, but not actually as a full-fledged member, cause I don't actually want to be in the club. They have these pink ribbons and are proud and brave. And I'm over here like "No, I don't want to be in your stupid club. I don't want to wear the ribbon. I am not brave, and I am not a fighter, and part of me does not want to kick cancer's ass, it wants to hide in bed and cry."

https://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/09/10/does-cancer-make-you-strong/

The hospital sent paperwork in the mail yesterday for my appointment tomorrow. I'm irrationally mad about it. If I fill out the paperwork, I'm a cancer patient. I go from being just someone with some appointments, to a cancer patient. Cancer patients are bald and dying. 

At least on TV.

That's all I know about this. What I've learned on Grey's Anatomy. And that's not really helping.