One moment I’m a self-assured, confident, adult woman. Dealing. With. Cancer. Let’s get this show on the road so we can stroll out on the other side sooner.
The next moment I’m a sobbing child, scared of the dark, clinging to my husband like a psychotic Rhesus monkey.
It isn’t linear, this learning to live with cancer!
We grieve lots of losses that are not deaths. I grieve the loss of the elasticity of the skin under my eyes, in fact. Grieving the loss of my old normal, and moving into the new normal, is tough. It’s like wrestling with a python. Just when you think you’ve got the thing pinned, another coil pops out. Don’t you just hate that?
I miss you, my former cancer-less self.
“Evening, morning and noon I cry out in distress, and he hears my voice.” Psalm 55: 17