No Comparison

My current dose of Vicodin brought on a bit of mental clarity, if you can believe that. Altho I'm pretty sure they said LSD did the same and look how those people turned out. This entire post might just turn into a stream of blabbering

The root of my depression and anxiety issues have to be related to the way I've been trying to kick my 'bad mood'. Whenever I'm feeling down or especially anxious I tell myself that there's no reason to feel bad. Life is good. I am cancer free, I had a very minor cancer and didn't even have to deal with chemo or rads. I am better now and compared to others, life is easy!

Talk about belittling your own feelings. It's no surprise that trick hasn't worked.

This was my experience today. Matt and I dropped Cha off at daycare at 7:45 and made it to the surgery center at 8:30. While sitting in the waiting room Dr. S came by and chatted for a moment. He said he had a busy day with four breast cancer patients. One he just finished was having revisions to her breast reconstruction. After me he had two surgeries at two separate hospitals. That's a long day. My first thought was 'wow, my day is easy in comparison.'

When Dr. S left a man walked into the surgery center. He told the woman at the front desk that he had to drop off his baby with the grandparents but was there to see his wife. His wife was Dr. S's first patient and the front desk woman said he would be with him in a minute. I looked at the man and got sad. He was younger than me and I assumed that his wife was as well. They had a baby at home and the husband looked very tired and worried. They must certainly have it harder than me, so why am I complaining?

The nurse took me into an examining room where I put on my gown and she poked a hole in my arm. She then went to get Matt. While she was gone I heard a boy's cry. He was in the next room. I thought maybe he was there visiting his mom. There was lots of activity and the boy was so upset. Next thing I know the nurse is walking his parents out to the waiting room. Eek, that boy is getting surgery! Matt walked in and I told him how silly I felt crying when I wasn't a child, or the parent of that child.

Dr. S came in and I stripped down so he could start marking on me. For the 20th or 30th time I stood there naked in front of a relative stranger. I have a lot of respect for Dr. S and I trust him, obviously with my life! While I have never felt any sort of inappropriate weirdness during those 'special' times, it is an incredibly vulnerable experience. I start to tell myself that this is how cancer has violated me. This is cancer's doing. But then I hush myself and say I can't allow those negative thoughts because cancer is not winning, I am. Then I make nonsense chatter with Dr. S to try to take my mind off how unnatural it feels.

As Dr. S was marking me I briefly looked to my left and saw the tube coming out of my arm was filled with blood. I remember saying 'what was that?' then reached for the bed. I got dizzy and nearly fainted. Dr. S caught me mid-way. The blood was coming out of my arm and into the tube, which is natural since I was standing up with my arms down to my side. Silly me for getting upset, right?

The surgery was fine with no complications. It was longer than I thought and Matt ended up reading the same newspapers over and over again while he waited. Then I woke up.

I startled myself. I freaked out wondering where I was and why I was in so much pain. I must have been flailing about because three people came over and helped me settle me back onto the bed. For some reason I had to sit up. I kept saying how much pain I was in and how I needed to sit up. I thought something was wrong because it never hurt this bad before. Last time was much easier. I opened my eyes and a half hour later I was getting myself dressed. Today while the nurse helped me get to the bathroom and dressed I felt like such an idiot. All the way home I was telling myself that things were fine and I should just mellow out.

Well, things are fine but then sometimes they're not. Sometimes I am afraid, sad, lonely, hurt, self-conscience, feel unworthy and unwanted and all out depressed. These are my feelings and I get mad at myself over them and try to belittle them away. I am constantly comparing myself to people who have it worse to minimize my experience. No wonder the depression won't go away. I am beating myself up.

Yes there are people who had far more advanced cancer than mine. Little boys get sick and diseases spread. One thing that I need to remind myself is that when cancer is involved, every case is sad. Every case is individual. No two people will react exactly the same because no two people are exactly the same. There is no comparison.