Mutant SuperHero Morning

I wake up feeling neutral. Sensing if it is light out yet. What time is it? What is the temperature? There is something on my face – my new CPAP mask.

Reality starts flooding in quickly. I am in bed alone. There is no one here to comfort me. There are weird red splotches on my arms. My eyes are so dry they hurt – I have Occular Graft vs. Host disease. I am missing teeth – losing them from harsh medications. My foot hurts – it is badly bruised from a near break. I am wearing a diaper. There is a tray of drugs I need to take. It’s hard to breathe. I am bloated from steroids. I see a cane I need to use now. I feel myself slipping down into a dark abyss. This is more than I can take. My past and future dams break and flood into me unchecked. I try to return back to the ignorance of sleep to no avail. Sleep is so much better than this. Down, down, down. I had breast cancer. I had Lymphoma. I had a stem cell transplant. There is a pandemic. My vaccines did not work. I am starting my 4th year of isolation and sanitation.

There is something wrong with me. I am sick again, and we don’t know why. Spiraling down, down, down. I had a PET scan last Thursday. My doctor called me on Friday. There are a few findings in my lungs that appear to be malignant. Lung Cancer. It may have another explanation, but the word malignant was used in the report repeatedly. The next step is to get a biopsy, hopefully, this week. I may have lung cancer. My dry eyes fill with tears.

How could anyone have 3 different kinds of unrelated cancer in ten years? There is very little cancer in my family. Why are my cells mutating? I am a mutant. I can’t move. I am completely deflated and flattened. The world is a mess. There is a pandemic and mass shootings, and hatred. I have no mindfulness; I can not “be here now.”

I feel myself falling down a well of fear and despair. I can not allow myself to hit bottom. I have been there and do not want to go there today. It is time to start pushing back these furies. To push that shit away and create space to breathe and think. Time to lasso my ugly past and intimidating future and make them smaller.

In Homer’s Iliad, the Furies can prevent an individual from using their reason and so lead them to unusual and stupid acts. They live in Erebos, or darkness, and have no pity in their hearts. They cursed a king with temporary madness.

Can I envision a future for myself that is happy? That is impossible. There are too many unknowns. I must focus on now only. Ultimate Mindfulness. Equinimity.

Try again. Where am I? There is peace. We are safe. Breathe. I hear birds. It’s a sunny day. The trees are turning green. I can see my neighbors beautiful garden. I can listen to my old cat snoring. I see my art on the walls. I see crafts projects waiting for me. I am safe. Breathe. I live in a lovely house in a pleasant neighborhood. I see pictures of my friends and family. I am not alone.

As I go to the bathroom, I see my kids sprawled peacefully in their beds. What can I teach them today? It’s a family fun night. What will we laugh over? I see a picture of my Dad. I miss him intensely. I pause and feel his love and hear his laughter. He is still here with me.

I need to get music on soon.

Maybe I will take a pleasant drive with one of my kids, who is learning to drive. Is there something positive I can do today?

My new kitten Bonnie starts being silly and comes for a visit.

I need to get busy. I need to get distracted. I have learned this is not an entirely healthy response. It is something victims of trauma and PTSD do to avoid overwhelming pain. But until I get my biopsy back, I need to be kind to myself. If staying busy with all my little projects keeps me from the bottom of the well, it’s OK. I will work on being quiet when I can. This is not the week.

My kids wake up, and I hear them laugh. My kitten is silly. The world wakes up around me, and it is beautiful. I love life, and I have today. Breathe.