Friday, March 8, 2013

It's What Makes You Special, Mom!

I will share a not-so-well kept secret. I have been under a great deal of stress lately.

Well, truth be told, I live in a perpetual state-of-stress. Okay, truth be truly told, I am a type AAA+++ personality. But, shhhh, that's a secret.

My stress levels fluctuate, however. I can go from mundane-daily-stress levels, to spiking to over-the-top-my-head-is-going-to-explode levels of stress (and back down again) within a matter of hours. It all depends on what goes into the hopper: a client in a gotta-save-me-now mode; battling within a judicial system that has forgotten that what's right and what's legal should not be polarizing concepts; a progeny who is having the worst day/hour/moment ever; a life/business partner fretting or sustaining yet another injury; or being stalked by a hospice director.

My stress over-flowed this morning. I won't bore you with the details. Suffice to say that I surpassed the brim of my personal carafe and ranted a bit, both internally and externally.

Included in the in-my-head rant was the following litany:

DMSO is supposed to exude a wonky smell for 24 hours and dissipate....WHY then, when I had a DMSO infusion I did not start to emit eau de sushi until 18 hours after, and still am 48 hours later?!

Why, when I am a functioning person working through and living with METS do I have a hospice worker stalking me?!

How is it that my oncologist gets testy when I push to have (what I think) a legitimate dichotomy addressed?! (I.e., summer 2011 pet scan identifies a reactive tumor, which is then biopsied and determined to be malignant; fall 2011 pet scan clears me of said reactive tumor ... saying that it appears I am responding to treatment; and early fall 2012 pet scan identifies same reactive tumor, and now says..."since tumor has not changed in size since summer 2011 must not be malignant." But, it was biopsied, and was gone, and then came back (and not biopsied)?)

Why can I not find an oncologist who will personally review my scans and form an independent opinion? (R.O. is my third onc.)

And then there is always the "David Byrne" question: "How did I get here?"

One of my progeny, who had a front-row seat to my over-flowing carafe, and with whom I shared that I am so tired of not being "normal," just patted me on my leg, sighed, then giggled and said, sagely..."but mommy, that is what makes you so special."

I laughed out loud. My carafe, again, was tolerable.



  1. Love that!!! What a sweet child. So honest, so true! You ARE special. And you deserve an explanation for that PET dichotomy to boot! (In keeping with my comment on your prior post, add that hospice worker to your punch-in-the-punim list!)

    1. Renn, I am very fortunate that all three of my children have a wonderful ability to really make me laugh out loud, at life - at myself - with them! It seems that this entire journey with breast cancer has been one HUGE dichotomy. On that respect, I am not so special or unique, as we all share this inexplicable path.

      Thank you my V-Friend!

  2. Well, it's no wonder you feel over-loaded in the stress department from time to time. My gosh, who wouldn't? And yes, as Renn said, sweet child!

    Hope your carafe and all things remain tolerable.