The Hotel Life

I’m down here in Rochester, living the hotel life. Tomorrow, I’ll meet with the Mayo surgeon to hopefully set my surgery date. Before I meet with the surgeon, I’ll be getting a bunch of ultrasounds thanks to a Mayo study. I can’t quite remember what the study is for – something about the vascular system (in relation to cancer). When I went through it the first time (the study will do an ultrasound before, during, and after chemo), I could clearly see the tumor. Hoping this time around I won’t be able to see anything!

Tonight, I ordered myself way too much food from a fab Italian restaurant here. Feel like I earned it after this shitty round of chemo. (My life is now measured in 3-week increments.) It wasn’t the worst, don’t get me wrong, but stress had a HUGGGGGGGE impact on me this time. My heart rate was over 120 even though I was just sitting there . I can pretty much correlate it to my mom being in the hospital, which on it’s face makes sense, but it’s not really about the hospital stay.

Lucky, I met with my therapist today who listened and challenged me to create boundaries. Most of us grow up with the belief that (blood) family is everything. For me, if that were true, then I’d really be all those things they made me feel. And I’m not. I’m 36 years old, and I still struggle with my childhood. Now it’s kinda slapping me in the face, and I do not have the capacity for that. Not just the mental capacity, but it literally impacts how I respond to chemo. And being guilt-tripped for not visiting the hospital during treatment is just the pits. (It took DAYS after being at the hospital for my heart rate to stop hitting 120+ resting…)

My therapist so rightly noted that I can’t control other people, but I can put up boundaries for myself. Because it matters how I get through this. It matters if I fucking get COVID because who knows if my body can survive it. I can’t be all things to all people, and that should have been true before I got cancer. It’s just much clearer now. Maybe I finally feel like I’m worth it.

So…that’s how I’ve been feeling. The pain isn’t so bad as the rest of life. Between family crap and the damn bathroom being broken. What else can happen?

Still, I’ve been pretty good to look at the bright side. If I wasn’t worth much to my family, then at least I’ve made my own. <3 My tumor is gone, so far as I can tell – that’s always a fact to be celebrated. Every day is a new day to get better, be better.

I’ll just keep trucking along and hope that I catch a break at some point. 😉