I had a bad day today in the sense that even after I meditated and went for a walk, I still felt the weight of cancer upon me. C. is better at distracting himself, watching episodes of The Wire over and over. I realized that it is Spring Break and I am not having enough fun. Tonight I went to see The Watchmen with my son. (C. was asleep-I will see it again with him) As I sat in the waiting room for radiation, I realized I just didn't want to be there. I don't always feel this way, but today, for some reason, I kept starting to cry and trying not to, until I locked myself in the rest room at Brigham and Women's Hospital and gave vent for a few minutes. Crying is like throwing up--there is a certain point past which you can't stop it. But having to return to the public stopped it for me. C. and I met with the radiation oncologist and I realized that I hadn't had any feedback about C. from a doctor. C. likes this doc a lot, and I liked him too--he was very engaged with us, and upbeat. He said things were going just as they should. This should have cheered me up, and it did for a while, but sadness lingered the rest of the day. I have a cold that will not quit, and I was exhausted mid-afternoon, took a nap, and then went to the movie. You'd think I was the one with cancer.
I was actually better at bearing up under my own cancer, probably because it was early stage and is considered 96% cured, or however they express it. Maybe tomorrow will be better. The guy from Novartis and his cameraman are coming to film me for the study. I hope I don't have to watch the film afterwards--it's hard to see myself looking 10 lbs heavier and saggy and middle-aged. I'm entirely too vain to face the reality of my deteriorating looks. I have to somehow make the shift to focussing more on my interior than my exterior.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
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