Tired and Feeling Sorry for Myself

As soon as I leave Ambulatory Infusion today, I felt really tired. I came home and ate lunch and then perked up a bit but by the time I walked to my office, I felt tired again. I got to thinking that the day after my next treatment, I would have to teach two classes - one an overload class and then another class that's been scheduled for awhile.

I was to co-teach the overload class, but when I talked to my colleague, we decided that it would be best to wait until next spring. Whew. That made my spring load much easier!

With the other class, we are close to having to cancel it because we have these new mandatory minimum enrollments. We need 15 and there are only 10 signed up. I got to thinking that maybe, just maybe, if the class were canceled, I could take the time I would need to teach that class as sick leave (and not replace it by another class) and that way, I'd have less stress and could devote more of my time and energy to the UW immunotherapy trial. I tried broaching the topic by the powers that be . . . and I don't feel that I got enough support for the idea.

That made me sad. It made me feel like my colleagues don't appreciate enough of what I'm going through emotionally and physically. Then, the sadness turned into a little bit of angriness.

It's not like I've been sitting on my laurels. This is what I worked on these past two months: I have been attending meetings on the new longhouse, am on the longhouse advisory board, the department's personnel committee, the assess/refresh committee, the cultural concentration committee, and the department's NAGPRA committee. I served on an external review committee in Victoria,BC. I reviewed an article for publication in the Ecology of Food and Nutrition in December; I am writing a review for Museum Anthropology; I have to review a proposal for NSF Arctic Social Science. I am collaborating with indigenous colleague on the indigenous GIS workshop proposal to NSF; I am writing a proposal to NSF to bring students to the indigenous place names conference in Norway; I wrote a Center for the Humanities proposal and an Honors College proposal; I've written recommendation letters for several current and former students. I have interviewed one and contacted six or seven other people for the Alaska Native view of statehood project (for which I was bought out of two classes) - I have a total of 7 interviews now out of 10, many are not responding to my requests because they don't know me, I don't have travel funds to get to Alaska to do this project and I don't speak the language; I have been supervising two students on two of my projects (the interactive King Island map and the Alaska Native Corporation stuff). I have been collaborating with colleagues on environmental humanities initiatives. I have been collaborating and communicating with my colleage from PSU who is now at Oxford on the Alaska Native corporation stuff. I have been working with the seabird specialist, to finalize some aspects of the interactive map. I have asked my mom to write biographies and find pictures of community participants. I've been dealing with my budgets on my two active grants. I have been reading an analyzing breast cancer blogs for the CLA research grant that I have.

I have also had 13 appointments in 59 days, which averages about 1 appointment every 4.5 days; if you count recovering from treatments, that goes up to 19 days, meaning that 1 out of 3 days, I'm either going to an appointment or dealing with side effects.

I am asking for some special treatment, but I think that it's warranted, don't you? I mean, metastatic breast cancer is a lot to handle, right?

Anyway, sorry to write such a pissy post. But I think I can be honest in my own blog, eh?

Regadless of how I feel, I hope you all were able to enjoy the dry, if cool, breezy weather! Thanks for reading.

Reiki and throwing plates

Today, Scott drove down and after a late breakfast, he performed reiki on me. Again, I found it interesting that he found certain spots that were painful - places that I was holding on to negative energy and emotion. Between the reiki yesterday and acupuncture today, I've been trying to let go of the sadness and the anger and concentrate on the positive. Some of the thoughts I had were for letting go and also for healing during both sessions. Also, my acupuncturist put seeds in my ears on points responsible for "calming the spirit", "happiness", for sleeping, and for dehydration and supporting the yin, I think. I think it's working because I do feel more myself, less lonely, more happy. It helps that it's sunny.

I also decided yesterday that I would break plates and let go of the anger. But I had some trouble trying to figure out how to do that. When I first got the idea yesterday, I wondered where I could go so that no one would hear me. And, I didn't know what to do with the shards. Then, while talking to dad who was working in my yard, I decided that I should make a mosaic and entitle it, "Letting Go". If someone asked why I was breaking plates, I would tell them that I was making a mosaic.

So, yesterday afternoon, I bought some plates in a variety of colors at Goodwill. After Scott left, I got out the plates and a tarp. I just set the tarp on top of a large stone and then threw a plate at it, but the shards flew everywhere. Then, I draped part of the tarp against the fence and put the plates on the ground on the tarp and threw rocks and that worked, too, but shards flew everywhere. I finally got the bright idea to put all the plates on the tarp right next to a fence and then I folded the other half of the tarp on top of the plates. I anchored down the edges of the tarp with large rocks. Then, I threw rocks at the plates. In this way, I kept all the shards from flying and they were contained in the tarp and I also had the fence as a backdrop so the rocks wouldn't fly everywhere. There are still a few large shards, but a lot of smaller ones. When I told the Mandala Lady my plans today, she said "I just got chills- you definitely need to do that!"

Dad mentioned yesterday that I should put some raised beds on one part of the yard (which really looks bad). I think that I will somehow work a mandala mosaic in between some curved raised beds in that area. Now, I just got to figure out how to do that . . .

Slow Burn - Another Note about the Mandala

Another thing that came to me about the mandala (which is entitled "Slow Burn" - scroll down to the "Controlled Anger" entry) was that it seems to be representing this process I'm going through.

First, the original mandala was asymmetrical - it felt disordered and, frankly, a bit ugly to me. This represents the cancer diagnosis I received last fall. So, then I added lines to make it symmetrical - this represents me trying to gain some control over it - all the actions and treatment decisions I've made since then. I was trying to impose order. I then added flames which represent to me that the order I was trying to impose is getting out of control again. I feel out of control.

This makes me realize the fine balance that exists within me - I wrote awhile back about "life on the edge", where one thing can tip me over. I'm still walking on the razor's edge. I was starting to fall. The anger I feel right now is helping to keep me upright.

Depression as Repressed Anger

A friend just told me that a social worker told her that depression is repressed anger. So, it's good that I'm getting that anger out there.

Controlled Anger and the Stages of Grief

You know Elizabeth Kubler-Ross's Five Stages of Grief? Well, I think I'm going through them. The stages are, in no particular order: denial, depression, anger, bargaining and acceptance. I feel like I'm losing control - that the cancer is doing what it will and even though I'm trying to do whatever I can, it feels like it's not making a difference.

I was still pretty sad and depressed yesterday, although I did get out there and attended a couple of social events. I had to force myself to go because I knew it would be good for me and it was. Last night, though, I still felt sad and a sense of despair was there. This was because 1) yesterday, I found some more nodules of skin mets in the area under my implant that I didn't know was there; 2) my big toe still protests getting into shoes (I injured my big left toe in a softball game a month ago) and I found that when I do try to run fast and then stop, I can feel it, so then I don't feel like I should run as hard playing softball so then I can't play as well as I know I can; and 3) even though it only got to 75 yesterday, I felt SOO hot. It was kinda crappy how quickly hot and uncomfortable I felt. I've noticed since I've been on Xeloda and Tykerb, that when I do get hot enough to sweat, my sweat feels prickly - like a bunch of little needles. So, I cried during the game. I just feel frustrated and have this feeling of "when is it going to end?" Also, I think the skin under the implant is already feeling the effects of radiation - it felt a bit like a sunburn on Saturday. Sigh.

I did some bargaining with Scott late last week . . . I told him that I like his support to get me over this hump, then I would try not to bother him as much any more. I don't think I ever felt in denial - it was more like a "why can't I get a break from all this crap?"

Anyway, this morning, I felt like I should color the mandala. I don't particularly like this month's MOTM (www.maiahcreations.com/MOTM/) because it seemed kinda sloppy and was asymmetrical. I didn't feel like coloring it. See the June Mandala. Then, I decided that I could add to it and make it symmetrical. Then, I decided to color it in angry colors. Since I started coloring it, I'm beginning to work up a full head of steam of anger.



I am angry at finding more skin mets.
I am angry that the weather isn't nicer and it's cool (about 60) and cloudy.
I am angry that I'm not able to play softball like I want to.
I am angry that I can't live a "normal" life like my friends and colleagues.
I am angry that I have to go to radiation everyday.
I am angry that I don't have a partner.
I am angry that I've been so wrapped up in what I'm feeling that I've ignored my son and haven't had energy for him.
I am angry because I've lost so much: my breasts and eventually one of the implants, time, my big toe nail, a sense of a normal life, a partner, control over the cancer.
I am angry because of the daily reminders that I do have cancer: radiation treatments, having to change the dressings over the open wound at least twice daily and also because the dressings begin to leak from the fluid.
I am angry that when we go to the coast for a few days next month that I won't be able to go into the hot tub and when it's hot this summer, I won't be able to go into my friend's pool because of the open skin wound.
I am angry that I can't be in the sun as much as I want to.
I am angry that my face still breaks out (although it isn't as bad as it was in March).
I am angry that I have to fight this shit every day.
I am angry that I've been crying so much lately.
I am angry because I have to talk myself into going to social events.
I am angry because I know of someone who died of cancer last week and I just feel so bad for her family (see the link to Jane's Life on the blogs that I read regularly).
I am angry because I believe that environmental contaminants, including everyday household items like mattresses, have contributed to my getting cancer.
I am angry because money I could be using to fix up my house or to travel and have fun is instead going to cancer treatments.
I am angry because a lot of people don't understand what I'm going through.
I AM ANGRY.

But you know what, it's a controlled anger. It's not the kind of anger where I want to yell and scream and throw things. It's a controlled, calculating kind of anger - a slow burn, if you will.

And, feeling angry feels better than feeling helpless and alone. I will post a picture of the mandala after I finish it.