Well, I must admit, I’ve been feeling down in the dumps.
It seems like all I have been doing is going to the hospital. It’s been very frustrating. And went I went for an MRI on my head, chest and stomach, the paperwork wasn't ready for the head scan, so I had to wait. Wouldn’t you know it - that paper was the one the doctor needed to see the most to make sure I didn't have another brain tumour.
Keep your fingers crossed; I really need all your good vibes now. My hands are so numb it is very hard to write with paper or knit, so I have to go slow.
Did you ever just sit there thinking and all of a sudden notice that the tears were running down your face and you weren't sure why? There are thousands of things in the world to cry for, but right at that moment it’s for you. You’re not sure why. I’ve been experiencing that lately.
I remember the first time they told me I had about six months to live, if that. So, I was to go home and get all my things together. I cried for a few minutes and that was it. Then the second time I said, ‘No, this isn't happening.’ I sat in the car for a while and cried because I might not get to see my family anymore. Or I wouldn't see the trees or the sky. I wiped the tears from my face and thought, ‘This is not the way this is going to happen, I have so much more living to do.’
And who was I feeling sorry for? Me, or those who would remember me once in awhile? I don't want them to spend their lives thinking about me. I'm going to fight this battle for them and for me. The first time I was 46 and now I'm 60. I'm still fighting. I get chemo every 21 days. I still love watching silly British TV comedies and I have two granddaughters and a son-in-law and an almost son-in-law. I will dry my tears and keep fighting.
I'm still on steroids. I will know soon for sure if I’m going to blow up like a blowfish. One thing about steroids is you want to eat everything sweet in sight.
Have a good week folks. Sorry for a short column but I have a friend I'm really worrying about – but she's a fighter like me. Hopefully we’ll be sitting around talking about this in our rocking chairs some day. Or at a rock concert.
Kathy Golemiec is undergoing cancer therapy and writes about her experiences each week.