I wish I could go back to the life I had before January 8 2011.
It was the morning after my daughter's birthday party and Brad and I had just woken up and were still laying in bed lingering.
I was happy. Truly happy, no care in the world.
And then, the lump.
Since then, there have been so many emotions, but fear has been a constant companion through all. And now, that I'm almost at the end of the treatment road, I am expected to be joyful and excited and to start picking up where I left off.
But I can't.
I am joyful and grateful and excited that it's done, but since nobody can really tell you whether the treatment worked or not, I am also fearful.
In my oncologists' words: 'when you die of something else, we know you'll have beaten cancer'.
Comforting, isn't it?
My 9 year old asked me the other day if I'll be teaching her to drive when she's 16, and I broke down into tears. Not that I want to teach her, mind you, but I'd like to be the one who writes the check to the 'Young Driver's' program' for her.
It is my new 'normal' I suppose, living each moment with equal parts gratitude, for experiencing it and really soaking it in now, and fear, that it may be over too soon.
It's been 6 months and fear is my constant companion. It accompanies me in my private moments too, when I sleep, when I dream, when I'm alone, even when I shower.
It is always with me.
I'd like to say that I got used to it, and I guess I have, but it sucks.
I wish I could go to that 'carefree' feeling of before. I've talked to other gals who've gone through it, and it's unanimous.
You cannot go back to 'carefree' once you've had cancer.