Healthy Mind, Healthy Body?
The day I was admitted to hospital, on June 22, I wrote a post called Why I’m No Longer A Healthy Living Blogger. I spoke about how the common idea of “health” has been too skewed towards health foods and running mileage. That’s not what health is about at all.
When I wrote that post, I knew I had a cat scan for that kink in my neck coming up. It’s what inspired me to write it, not my bum elbow. It’s proof that deep down inside, I knew something could be very wrong with my body. Something more than runner’s knee or a tummy ache from eating too much cake. There’s a reason why I freaked out at my mom when she made the doctor’s appointment for my neck. Yes, I had other things I wanted to be doing with my free time. But I also was not ready to face my health fears. I wanted to ignore them until they went away.
While I do try to remain positive and optimistic even after being told I have cancer, I’d be lying to say I wasn’t still in shock. Sometimes I look at my surroundings in the oncology ward and wonder why the hell I’m in there. I feel like this is some kind of bizarro life.
I’ve mentioned several times that I am actually quite talented at hiding bad thoughts in the back of my head and carrying on without acknowledging them. I’m able to do this even with my current situation. But some days, the reality of it all washes over me and I start to feel really sad. The other day my mom and I had a short argument about where to move a table in my hospital room. I finally said, “You think I want to be arguing about this!?” and broke down crying.
I don’t want to be doing any of this. I don’t want to be in this hospital bed or on this floor. I don’t want this IV line in me. I wish I didn’t have an oncologist, or have to tell strangers about a large mass in my chest. I wish I didn’t know so much about lymphoma at the age of 25, and I even wish I didn’t have the spare time to watch Arrested Development. I don’t want any of it. And yet I have it.
If there’s one thing that stupid arm accident was good for, it taught me a lot about how to deal with losing control over my body. It taught me how to roll with the punches when crap gets thrown my way. It taught me how to love my body, even when it’s broken. Even when it seems like it’s working against me.
So, no, I am still not a healthy living blogger. I’m not a cancer blogger. I’m not always going to be a fountain hope and strength. To be honest, laying in bed feeling ill seems to be the farthest thing from being strong. Everyone calls getting rid of cancer a “fight” and yet I can’t figure out how to throw punches apart from sitting in a chemotherapy chair.
All I can do is live life the only way I know how. That’s laughing and joking with my family, forgetting any of this exists. Then breaking down to cry when I realize the weight on my chest is literally cancer in my chest.
It’s just so strange to feel so healthy in my mind when my body is so sick.
I had a visitor this weekend…
Spent some time hanging out in the fresh air outside the hospital and the family brought the poodle by! He was mostly confused. I think he thought he was being taken to the doggie hospital.
Surgery is at noon today. They’re putting a scope into my chest to get a sample of my tumour because the needle biospy didn’t work. I’ll be asleep for it. See you on the other side!