Waiting for Savasana

I Wouldn’t Wish This on Anyone


This is the most terrible thing that has ever happened to me.

For the past month I have felt the biggest combinations of terror, hope, anger, sadness, disappointment, love, care, and rage.

I have a bone scan tomorrow.  I have a bone scan tomorrow.  I have a freaking bone scan tomorrow.

And then I have a body scan on Thursday.

And I am afraid of what they are going to find.

There is a chance they may find nothing.  Ha!  That would be a laugh.

I feel already like I’m doomed.

People told me that once we had a plan, that I would feel better but now there are new plans, new doubts, new questions because there were just so many lymph nodes involved that it  may be that I am at stage 4 and if I am there, everything is only treatable. Nothing is curable if I’m stage 4.

And it is only treatable for so long.  And then it’s over.

It may take years but this thing, if it’s stage 4, then it essentially over.  Put a fork in me.

If I’m stage 4, I don’t get chemo because what’s the point?

I get hormone therapy and hope it works for as long as it works.

But if I’m stage 3 I get chemo and the works because there is a glimmer of a chance that we can beat this and it won’t come back.

And I won’t know anything until I have my bones scanned and my body scanned and I am terrified to the point where I can barely breathe.

I don’t have choice about any of this.  All I can do is what they tell me to do.

Tomorrow, bright and early, I will get up, pull myself out of bed, get dressed, brush my teeth  and get ready to have my bones scanned for cancer.

And I don’t want to.  I really don’t.

I just want to get the chemo and have hope for a full recovery.

The not knowing is torturous.  The not knowing rips through my head.  I don’t know.  Bones?  Liver? Lungs? Brain? Clear?  Unmeasurable?

I want to get off this ride.

I want to believe that I really will be ok again one day. But really will I ever be ok again?

Sometimes, I play games in my head and tell myself that I deserve this.  That this is punishment.  I don’t say why me?  I just take it because it is what it is.   I hate this cancer.  I hate what it has done to me in just a few short weeks.

But I will pull myself out of that bed tomorrow shaking and crying most likely and I will get in the car and go to the place and get the injections and do the wait and I will get in the machine because what else can I do?

My only option left is to search for the truth, even if I don’t like what I find.


6 thoughts on “I Wouldn’t Wish This on Anyone

  1. I will be praying for good news, and for peace for you tomorrow. I am sending you a big hug!

  2. Thank positive Beth that’s what your Dad did and it’s what he would tell you to do. We’ll keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best.

  3. Dear Sweet Beth, Cancer is not a punishment, Cancer is not a punishment. A couple of Kyle’s friends overheard two very ignorant adults at school say that he deserved his brain tumor because he had used drugs. Of course the boys had also been part of such recreational activities so they wanted to apologize to me. I assured them and I assure you, nothing you did or didn’t do caused the cancer. I know it is a cliché, but “bad things can happen to good people” and you are one of the best people. I wish I could take away the fear and am praying your scans are clear. Hugs.

  4. Sending nothing but good thoughts your way. Many prayers have been requested that you hear only good news! Stay strong.

  5. I am late on this one but It resonated with me… having a plan is great you just have to figure out how to make it work when it changes. When Mateo was first Diagnosed I made this calendar to track all his chemo, in my very Type A way, our oncologist and everyone else was like “why do that it will just change” but there was something about having a PLAN that made me feel like I had some sort of control where there really is none. To this day I still update that dang calendar…. I have done it for 5 years and I will keep doing it until we are through the other side of his “journey”. So find a way to find comfort in the plan, or in the lack of one if that’s what works for you 🙂 SO glad to hear that the bone scan is clear … and I know tomorrow will bring more good news.

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