i don’t cry very much. ok.. i cry at silly things like hallmark movies or puppies or babies being born or people overcoming adversity. i cried at rambo and edward scissorhands. embarassing, but i admit. things that touch my heart make me cry in a second. i’m pathetic and sentimental in that way.
but i didn’t cry at all when i was diagnosed. i didn’t worry or get angry or even really talk to very many people about it. i was on my own when i found out, because my husband was travelling and i just said “ok” and hung up.
i wasn’t in denial. i had lots of conversations with medical people and did research and joined support groups and even saw a shrink, but i didn’t cry.
and then one day about 6 months later, i was in barnes and nobles, rushing around to buy some birthday presents for some parties my child was to attend. and a couple books for her and somewhere between the tween crafts and the teen horror section overlooking the escalator, i completely burst out crying. waterfalls of tears splashing down my cheeks and chin. i was not loud or weeping hysterically, but it was as if the dam broke and countless tears stored during the realization of the severity of the disease and my mortality and the toxic treatments and what that would do to my husband’s dreams and my daughter’s childhood …the injustice of having tried so hard for a baby all these years only to be ill during the prime years of her life.. the fear that now as we lost so much income as patients do, the years ahead would not only be hard physically, but that our child would have so fewer opportunities, so much lost innocence… everything… every tear generated and stored.. finally let loose in the middle of an upper west side book store. clearly, as i heard the platitudes of “you’ll beat this!” “you’re gonna do great!” or “you can win against cancer.” the sad reality that even though i had not given up hope, but that.. i wouldn’t necesarily beat this and that even if i managed the cancer it would be at the expense of the people i loved the very most in the world, was too much.
because i live for my family and they do for me too. but i want their lives to be wonderful and not full of the awful cancer that has consumed by body. i hate that. but i hate more than that, with an incurable cancer — it can consume your life. no matter how hard you try not to.
tonight i cried too.. we have so much uncertainty in our lives and now i just saw that a 24 year old young woman and myeloma patient passed away and i’m so sad. i’m too tired to be angry after a day of treatment. i’m too tired to rail against the world. old man yelling at cloud, as my husband calls me. i’m just going to accept the fact that i am sad.
and i’m gonna cry.