On Superbowl Sunday, I found out my mother has breast cancer. She's 56 years old. I feel angry and cheated and- lost. I woke up to my mom's voice quietly telling me through the gentle stream of tears down her face "Oread, I have breast cancer." Now, nothing will ever be the same. When her little sister, my aunt, got breast cancer years ago we thought it was a fluke- cells in her breast started to multiply uncontrollable and formed a malignant lump. She got chemo, radiation, bing-bada-boom, done. We could all go back to our blessedly-simple lives. I wish- God- I wish that were true now. It's amazing, something the size of a quarter in a right breast can result in such...well, whatever this is.
I am stagnant water and slowly I am being poisoned by insect-like thoughts laying disease-riddled eggs of doubt, dispair, and agony. I am watching my life through darkened green eyes- and I can't pull myself out.
I decided to start a blog to talk. The more I talk, the more I feel like I am starting to perform in my life, rather than watch it. Maybe someone out there is just like me, who has a family member or friend struggling with cancer. Maybe we can work through it together, we can learn that it's okay to be angry, that it's okay to think "Hey, God, I thought we had a fucking deal??" and that it's okay to not know what to say at all but still... it feels better when I can put "my mom has stage 2 breast cancer" from my thoughts to a box on a white screen. Maybe I can be put all these frightened feelings out in the open- I can Hurl My Green- and maybe someone will read it and help me as I help them. This is my first blog, and I'm sending it out to the world- for whoever needs to read it as much as I need to write it.
-Oread
