Battle Hymns of a Hot Mess Mom

It feels like a rollercoaster of fear, sadness, and uncertainty has taken over my life once again. Despite hoping and praying for the best, the reality has hit me hard. My sense of security has been shattered, and I find myself grappling with a mix bag of thoughts. How do I face this head-on? I never even took a break from chemo. It came back despite doing chemo. What the f*ck? Dr P said I was in “deep remission” those were his words. I was ready for transplant. I was doing well. Isn’t that also what happened when I finished 7 + 3?

Everyone said I was doing well. Everyone said my numbers looked great, and then after the April biopsy – the rug got pulled out from under me, No remission. No bell. No stop in chemo. I pulled myself up the first time, so I’ll need to pull myself up again. Just not sure where to start.

I’ll be getting a Hickman Line for next chemo or transplant. I’m just over here exploring all the damn central line options. It’s not a port, but I’ll have use of both arms which is nice. I should eat something…but what to eat? The news didn’t exactly fill me with a solid appetite, I instantly just felt sleepy. I napped for a few hours and bailed on ladies dinner today. I didn’t have it in me to look these ladies in the eyes and not sob. That would NOT have been a good night of laughter and fun.

I read that if you watch a show over and over and over – it’s a sign of anxiety. I think there is merit in this. When I get anxious I will watch a show over and over – I know exactly what’s happening and the next words of each character – but putting it on keeps me rather calm.

I am a trying to breathe through this and understand this is part of the path. I have been shown time after time there is a path that I’m supposed to be on. I’m trying to give this up to the universe and breathe. Without setbacks, how do you cherish the successes? That sounds so f*cking cliche it makes me want to throw up. The doggo is looking for another handout. At M’s he ate like a King with his brother. Kobe beef, smoked salmon, bacon and slept on a temprapedic. Not in this house, you’re eating the kibble and sleeping in your crate. He’s been pacing my room for the last few hours. I had to tell him to chill out and lay down. He looked at me begrudgingly and laid down with a big old huff. Get over it sinker.

I will get up. I will snap out of it. I have to as again there is no other choice. But tonight I don’t have it in me. Tonight I’m going to eat some chocolate and wallow in my depression. I’m going to watch my show for the millionth time and let my mind settle. I’m going to take my sleeping pill and pass out.