Stage III

I'm visiting my parents this weekend. I felt like I needed to see how my mom was doing, get some additional information about what she's dealing with, and hopefully bring her some cheer. (I say that last part with some chagrin as I am really not someone who brings cheer... Pollyanna I'm not. I guess what I mean is that I wanted to show her that I care and I'm in this with her.)

I was able to review the tumor pathology report, which in a nutshell indicates that she has Stage III colon cancer. That means she will need to have chemotherapy. I've read numerous reputable sources indicating that the latest chemo drugs for colon cancer are highly effective, and the side effects are relatively tolerable. There's no reason to not be optimistic.

She is incredibly energetic for someone who had major surgery less than two weeks ago and is facing such a tough diagnosis. It's impressive. She's walking around a lot, chatting with friends, getting her own food (she won't let us do much), taking her medications on schedule, and basically being her usual self. I do not see any self-pity or even much worry on her part. She's handling it all about as well as anyone possibly could.

I wish I could say that I am following suit with my own attitude and feelings, but inside I am wrecked. I went for what was supposed to be an hour-long run, and halfway through I stopped right in the middle of the road and started to cry. I'm trying to hide it, but... this is hard. And it seems really unfair and selfish of me to see this as so difficult and to get so upset when my mom is being so positive. It's not that I don't believe she'll get better - I do. The odds are well in her favor.

The thing is that you never know how you're going to react to this sort of situation. All this time I figured that if something were to happen, I'd be able to hold it together. I'm not. Not really. I mean, I think that on the outside, in my interactions with her, I am doing and saying the "right" things. But inside I'm torn up. There's an added complication to what is going on here, which is that our family isn't particularly close and we have a lot of unresolved issues. I have distanced myself from them in recent years. Many of their friends and my friends don't get it; they think I'm selfish. I have my reasons. Now this is happening, and while my feelings about my dysfunctional family haven't changed, I also have this built-in need to be there for my parents. It's confusing and disorienting, and I feel totally narcissistic for having all of these self-focused feelings when it's not about me.

I should be fine. I should be strong. I should be encouraging. I will be those things, as much as I can. But I don't always feel like I have it in me. If this is a marathon, I am not the person at the front, bravely maintaining race pace and thinking positive thoughts. I am the person jogging well behind schedule, the one puking in the bushes and begging to quit, the one who doesn't quit but who whines all the way to the finish line.

Saturday morning

Saturday morning means...

...long, long runs for my husband (20 miles today).

...dark coffee with sugar and almond milk (often reheated a time or two in the microwave because I drink it so slowly)...

...a messy, messy family room, strewn with Legos and trains and books and balloons...

...sweatpants, sweatshirts, and warm socks...

...and me trying to relax, with varying degrees of success. It depends on the weekend. I always take Saturday off, but sometimes my mind continues to whirl even as I'm doing all of the things that supposedly constitute a lazy weekend.

I can tell my anxiety levels are higher than they were, say, a month ago. When I get anxious, I tend to fixate on things and become intensely self-critical. Right now, for instance, I can't seem to stop thinking about a big poster presentation I need to prepare in the next few weeks. Is there any point in sitting here for hours, visualizing where I might place various pictures on said poster? No, but I'm doing just that. I also can't stop thinking that maybe grad school was a big mistake, maybe I'm not smart enough, maybe my advisors have realized I'm an idiot, maybe I'll finish and graduate and nothing will come of it, job-wise. This is the first time in the entire year and a half that I've been in this program that I've had such strong self-doubts... and for seemingly no good direct reason. Thus, I can only assume that stress in my personal life is manifesting itself in my professional life. Emotions are getting distorted and displaced. At times like this I try to ignore what the critical voice in my head is saying. I remind myself that in all likelihood, it is wrong.

From an objective standpoint, I can see that yes, I am stressed out and overwhelmed, and perhaps I've been less patient with certain people - but in the past week I've finished every assignment that was due and attended every meeting that was scheduled. I've taught my class and written lessons. I've gotten up every morning and gone to school. It's true that I am distracted, and it's true that maybe I'm not powering along as I usually do, but I know that if I were an advisor, I would be understanding of that. I have to assume that my own advisors (who are aware that my mom was just diagnosed with cancer and is in the hospital recovering from surgery) can see where I'm coming from and aren't holding it against me.

Around my family, I've been tired. I often come home, eat dinner, and then lay in bed for a little while (a pre-bed nap, if you will). It's not ideal, but I need that time to myself. After a few minutes, I feel somewhat re-energized and can interact with my husband and son without being a complete zombie. Right now I am not being the best partner or mother. I am being a "good enough" partner and mother.

It's hard for a perfectionist to accept "good enough."

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Yesterday morning, I got up at 5 a.m. and ran four miles at a 10:30- to 10-minute-per-mile pace. That's faster than what I've been running, and I felt good. Tomorrow I'm scheduled to run 7 miles at a comfortable pace. I'm glad for the running. I need it. It's distracting, it's comforting, it's predictable, and it's a challenge that I know I can actually meet. Running is solace.

Drained

I am drained. Finding out that someone you care about has cancer totally flips your world upside down. Everything looks and feels different.

If I were to give myself grades for my current performance at school, in helping keep the house in order, and with parenting, I'd award myself a solid C in every category. I'm not really failing, but by no means am I excelling. I'm just sort of floating along. Getting up every day, getting dressed, making lunch, going to school, and giving my kid as many hugs as he wants is pretty much all I can muster. Whatever I manage to accomplish outside of that is just a bonus. What I really want to do is stay in bed for a week. And I'm not even the one who's sick.

Maybe I don't look particularly sad, angry, or worried, but I feel all of those things, and they're manifesting themselves emotionally as well as physically.

I went to see my old therapist today because I needed to talk to someone who really knows me and my history. He told me my feelings are normal and that it isn't selfish to feel the way I do. We talked about my mom, my family, and the potential repercussions for the future. He reminded me that in a week or two, I will have adjusted to this "new normal" - kind of the way your body adjusts when you increase running mileage. After a while, it won't feel as taxing as it does now.

It was so good to talk to him. He listened. He pointed out the healthy, positive choices I've made and am making. He showed that he cares. But the session made me feel sad, too. I wish I had good friends - or just one good friend - to share these things with whenever I need to. I wish someone would call me up or email me and be like, "This sucks, and it's hard. How are you doing? Do you want to talk about it?" But for whatever reason, I haven't made good friends in my adult life, and I feel alone a lot (which definitely doesn't do much for depression or anxiety).

Mostly I'm sad and worried.

I've been doing well with running, though: 3 miles on Monday, six sets of 400 meters on Tuesday, and another 3 miles today. Tomorrow is a rest day, and then I'll run four miles on Friday.

Things that knock the wind out of you

(Fall leaves during a post-race hike that I took yesterday)

My last post was so positive and self-reflective and optimistic. Funny how things work. The next day I got a call from my dad saying that my mom had been admitted to the hospital for severe abdominal pain. They did a CT scan and a colonoscopy and discovered that she has a tumor in her descending colon. She also had an associated infection. She's going to have surgery on Monday (a resection, which is where they cut out the tumor and surrounding colon tissue and splice the healthy tissue back together), at which point they'll send the tumor to pathology for further investigation.

It's frustrating to not know exactly what is going on - what the official diagnosis is, what post-surgery treatment will entail, what the prognosis is, etc. It's also frustrating to be so far away and not be able to talk to the doctors myself. I have a ton of questions.

I talked to my mom yesterday and she was in pretty good spirits - especially considering that she is on an all-liquid diet right now. That would drive me absolutely crazy (and make me hangry), but she's handling it fairly well. She has a roommate, which is good because she's very sociable. Better to have her sitting there gabbing with a new friend than being in there all alone.

I feel almost like I did the time that I climbed a tree in my friend's backyard, fell out, and slammed stomach-down onto the pavement below. I'm... overwhelmed. Discombobulated. Scared. Worried. Emotionally, I've been doing well over the past month, but now I'm starting to feel the pull of that familiar black hole of depression and anxiety. That scares me, too. I find myself feeling completely overwhelmed by school, and I have this urge to just not go, to just stay in bed.

*     *
In better news, I ran another 5K yesterday morning. It was foggy and freezing cold - literally. I could not feel my toes for the first two miles. I also discovered that the course consists entirely of hills; there was only one brief flat stretch. I thought I was running pretty slowly. But somehow I managed to cut a whole minute off my previous time. I think I came in somewhere around 28:10. Of course, now I'm thinking that wow, I'm so close to being in the 27-minute range... How hard would it be to cut another few seconds off, especially if it's a flat course?