Life got in between

Hello there, remember me?! I wanted to write another update to tell you about my progress. Because I hate blogs that aren't updated anymore and you never know what happened to that person. I just hope one day, somebody reads this and feels a little less lonely. That my words or photos will mean something to just one person. That be enough.

When I started working again last year, at the same time one of my former bosses found out he was sick. A melanoma spread to his brain and lymph nodes. I was his secretary for about 4 years. So I sent him a card and in January I wrote him a long email. He wrote me one back and was so happy to hear from me. We chatted about our treatment, hopes, distraction, loving family/friends and photography. He knew he wasn't going to get better, but there were still lights of hope. He had surgery and was going to start immunotherapy... but it wasn't meant to be. He got partly paralysed because of a cerebral hemorrhage and died at home with his wife and twins. 

I really felt the need to be at his cremation. To be surrounded by people who knew him. I have been thinking about him a lot. Mostly happy memories of a secretary. The cremation was intense, sad and personal. Music was our 'thing' and we always talked a lot about concerts.. he even gave me a CD for my birthday once. So when I heard James Bay, Venice, Dotan & Coldplay... it was just perfect. 

Afterwards I went up to his wife who also spoke during the cremation. What a beautiful soul! What a gorgeous strong person. It's strange how people you barely know can touch your soul like that! Wow. I told her my name and she said her husband showed her my photo series of the Chemo Chronicles. She gave me a tight tight hug.. and she said, "But look at you now, you're still here.. you're still standing strong"... and at that moment I realized what the term 'survivors guilt' really means. But don't get me wrong I'm really really glad I went.  It was a powerful goodbye. 

I have slowly started to cut back on the antidepressants. Well at least one of them, the ones that are making me fat and hungry. I'm still taking the Citalopram, but I kept gaining weight on the Mirtazapine. I'm a vegetarian but I felt like I could eat an entire horse every night. It really got out of hand and it made me sad, which is exactly the opposite of what its suppose to do right?! I took a 1/2 pill for 3 weeks, and now I'm on 1/4 for the second week. I have had some withdrawal symptoms but I'm determined to quit this happy-but-fatty-pill. 

I have been seeing my physiotherapist twice a week. We are working on my muscles, strength, condition, balance, flexibility etc. It is hard work! He makes me sweat like a pig. 

I am currently working 5 hours on three days.. and I also work a couple of hours at home. It still is a struggle.. mostly the fatigue and joint pain. But I enjoy being among colleagues. People seem generally happy to see me, I still get hugs and kisses when they see me. I started working as a project assistant for a pretty big project and that is something I have always enjoyed. I'm still not sure what is going to happen to me, because I'm reintegrating and I don't have a permanent job, I'm surplus. But I try to not to worry about that, and have faith what will meant to be will be. Also I might have to work as secretary again.. and that feels like taking a step back. Being back at work you see people with new jobs, who have developed and educated themselves. I talked about this with my psych and what matters now is I will feel better about going back to work. Finding back my confidence, a daily rhythm. I am still young and I have plenty of time to find out what it is I really want. 

My company doctor. Oh my, don't get me started on this guy. He actually told me.. and I quote, "Compared to other people in your situation, I think you can't do anything." Are you fucking kidding me?! I was so pissed. I told him about how hard it was for me to look at the things I have achieved and that I am working every fucking single day to look at the positive things in my life instead of the things I have lost. I was really emotional but determined! In Dutch we say, die heb ik een poepie laten ruiken.. I kicked his ass! 

So from that point on my appointments are a little more pleasant. He actually gave me a compliment last time we spoke. Ha! So always, ALWAYS stand up for yourself... but also realize you never EVER have to apologize for the way you chose to survive. Don't abandon the person you used to be.. but carry her! Be brave, be strong!

Home is where the heart is

Despite me freaking out about my conversation with my company doctor... I took some big steps. I can feel the change.. and it makes me very nervous... but it is with mixed feelings because I'm also proud of myself.

+ We started cleaning my apartment.
+ I bought some new things for my home. 
+ I spent there an afternoon by myself which was very emotional and therapeutic.
+ Even though I do not live there yet, I had my boss over at my place for tea.
+ Saw my company doctor and explained why I freaked out over our last appointment and he totally understood. He also said I should continue to work on these steps I'm taking. But that I'm not fit for work yet. So for now I'm trying to focus on moving back home, trying to enjoy life more... be more stable.
+ Sold all of my Christmas postcards in my Etsy shop.
+ I had lunch with an old colleague.
+ Spent some time with my sister; shopping, tea time, lunch etc. 
+ My colleague and his 2 year old son visited me.
+ I really enjoy swap-bot! You can't buy happiness but you can swap?!

- I still feel very emotional and cry about really silly things. 
- I am overwhelmed by almost everything.
- I panic when I have to make appointments or have to add structure and rhythm to my life. 
- I'm having doubts whether the 30 mg antidepressants are enough. I have to discuss this with my psych in December.
- I sometimes cross my boundaries and I end up feeling really exhausted. 

+ Despite living at my parents' place for two years my home still feels like home. 

Here comes the story of the hurricane

Everyone has a story to be told. Sometimes struggle is part of that story.

How do you feel about your home? Is it your home sweet home? Did you decorate it, picked out the furniture and the colours? Do you have lots of happy memories that make you smile. Do you picture yourself growing old in that little corner in the world that is yours. Because after all, there is no place like home?

Now picture a hurricane totally destroying that same house. Everything you built is gone, destroyed. Not just the outside but on the inside as well. Every little detail that once made you feel safe... is now gone.

That is cancer.

Exactly two years ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer and it was a big fucking hurricane. So no this is not a cancerversary because I hate that word. Treatment might be over, but I'm still stuck in the middle of this crazy dystopian story. Trying to pick up and dust off, some of the pieces. A hurricane leaves quite the mess. That place, that used to be so solid, is now trembling. It is still burning. No longer do I recognize it. So lost and confused, where to begin?

Recovering from cancer treatment isn't just about the outside — it's also about healing your soul. It is an emotional struggle. I read last year's post and realized I have come a long way. I am not where I want to be... but I will one day. Progress is progress, no matter how small. I think I finally feel/understand that now.

For a year and a half my life was all about getting through treatment. These days I embrace my good days, and as for the bad days I try to let them be. They say grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.