Reality is I am awake, but the shock is still here, particularly on days when I am tired and my mind will not take a break from the cycle of thought, "I have cancer, no I don't, how can I have cancer? Why? What? Me? I have cancer, no I don't . . ."
I leave before being left - If something feels wrong, doesn't fit, isn't going to work out, I'm the first to acknowledge this, and then I walk away, I don't look back, and I move on to creating something else. Shock - I can't walk away, this doesn't fit, but there's nothing I can do about it. I cannot move on, only move through.
Disbelief - maybe I don't, maybe the odds are not worth the risks of having chemo. What if I walked away - didn't play, didn't participate, but moved on to something else?
But I don't know the language of cancer, I can't figure out the language of dealing with this, of stepping from stunned to believed.
On Sunday my father handed me an article from the Parade magazine. It talked about all the things to do to avoid cancer. Stunned - I do all these things, and I have cancer - don't I?
A month later, with chemo starting tomorrow, I am still shaking my head and asking that question.