Ever since I started writing this blog I’ve had lots of nice people visit it and send me very kind and thoughtful messages, reminding me that I’m not alone and that there are many other women out there that go through the same battle.

Although I’m so grateful for all the plethora of information out there on the Internet and all the gracious men and women who are willing to share their experience and advice, this is where our similarities end and our differences begin.

Somehow I feel that there’s nothing to gain from knowing that someone else has cancer too, or learning that someone I don’t know feels the exact same crappy feelings I have right now. I know that I would probably say the same things and offer the same stick to someone drowning from the flood that this horrendous disease brings unto its helpless victims, but it’s not the kind of help that I need right now.

I need to have the illusion that things are normal, that everything is fine. Many times I think that I would be so much better off if I had no idea. I already know more than an average person does, and it drives me nuts. Whenever I look on the Internet for more info I get more and more depressed. There’s nothing good out there and then I’m left with the feeling that I’m already in too deep, that I’m kidding my self and that I’ll never beat this.

I know that even if I beat it this time around, it will come back somewhere else, and then what? I don’t think I have the inner strength to go for another round. And that’s when I have to remember to focus on this round first and take it one thing at a time. It’s not easy!

I gain strength from my noisy kids and the fact that for them nothing has changed. They don’t tiptoe around their sick mother, they still go on as if nothing has happened and although it gets a bit tiring sometimes, deep down I love it this way. It’s what keeps me going. Knowing that I need to be here for them is what drives me.

David needs help with geography, and Darian with his spelling words, Natalie is hungry and Brian is looking for his sunglasses and here I am in the middle of everything, hanging from a string, but I’m still here, juggling between everybody’s needs and wants. This is what makes me feel alive, and I love it!

And when I get tired and weak, there’s always Brian’s kind but strong hand to hold on to.
Always there! He helps me to my bed and sets me down to rest. That’s when I realize that I can let go, and yes, I can be sick and fragile too! Things will still go on.

I close my eyes and sleep and my dreams are peaceful. I love and I’m loved. I want nothing else. I’m ready. Ready to fight and ready to loose. Either one is fine.