Cancer of the Mind

By Sunday I was able to function fine. My chest was still sore, but not sore enough for painkillers. I couldn't do anything strenuous (like exercising or lifting), but normal activities were managable. Dad let Mike and I take his Mercedes out for the afternoon. We went for a nice long drive out to Mira (about 45 minutes away). It was a gorgeous afternoon and proved to be an awesome way to relax. Who wouldn't enjoy taking a Mercedes convertable out for a long drive on a sunny September afternoon with their hunny?

Although the pain was easing, as time progressed after this initial operation, so did paranoia. I started doing some research--on the internet and in a "Patient Guide to Breast Cancer" book the doctor gave me--and it did nothing but frighten me. I felt that it was my duty to know as much as I could about this disease and I needed to be more informed so that when I went to the doctor next, I would have some clue what he was talking about. But all these things I felt I had to do, turned out to worsen my situation. All I could now think about was metastesis (cancer spread to other parts of the body) and the many possibile outcomes for me. I then decided that I would wait until I was ready to start learning more about the disease--until I was more comfortable with my siuation and until I had accepted what was happening to me.

It took a while to shake the paranoia. I went out for lunch with my friend/cousin Alyson Tuesday afternoon. I remember telling her that I had a pounding headache the last couple of days, one like I have never experienced before. I started to feel light headed. I felt like my vision was blurry, so I started covering each eye and testing them. I was extremely worried. I thought I had a brain tumor. My thoughts were travelling like wildfire. Alyson told me she thought I might be taking panic attacks--what does that feel like? I now think that I simply had a stress headache, which made me paranoid about brain tumors. This, in turn, made me paranoid about other normal things that were happening with my body. The headaches discontinued that week.

Thinking too much. That could have been the death of me. I thought while I was in bed. I thought while I watched t.v. I thought while I was eating, speaking, playing the piano. I thought constantly. Why? What if? Thinking was the root of a tremendous amount of stress. I remember going to my grandmother's house for lunch that week and, in the middle of nowhere, breaking down. She was extra supportive and loving and managed to calm me down. I broke down numerous time while talking to Mike about things--and thinking. But this would soon pass.