Tag: Bone Cancer

MENTAL HEALTH COMES FIRST

Published on by Aimee EddyLeave a comment

When I started my second book a year ago, my writers group told me the second book would be easier to write, and I would finish it sooner because now I know how to write a book. What no one could have predicted was life taking me down many bumpy roads. When I think things are going smoother, a big pothole forms and I must find my way around it. Luckily, I have lots of coping skills that help me stay above the potholes.

The road of life first started getting bumpy when my husband’s job started remodeling, and my husband got laid off. It went downhill from there. The potholes and bumps started getting bigger. He returned to work and put his back out of place, missing work. Then there were other health problems. Then he lost his job of thirty-four years. After that the potholes got deeper, and the bumps grew higher. I struggled to swerve around and climb over them. Writing my book started to trail behind me.

Then my dad got pneumonia and came very close to dying. At the same time my sister struggled with her vision. My sister needed someone to assist her in getting help. I took it upon myself to get her into a retina research doctor. My husband and I travel forty-five minutes to pick her up and then back again to take her to the doctor. Sometimes she spends the night at our house, which I enjoy.

I have been working hard to assist her in getting the help she needs. Since she lives in another state than the retina doctor we have to find her the specialist and tests the retina doctor, recommends in her state, so her insurance will pay. This has been a headache. I am trying to do my best to help her but the bumps in the road keep getting higher.

My husband got an illness that gave him no choice but to retire. He can no longer drive. I’m trying to be very supportive and comforting. He has been struggling to accept his diagnosis and accept having his freedom taken away from him. I’ve been trying to help him find a hobby and I give him things he can do while I’m at work. I take him for rides after work to get him out of the house. His illness has been very tough on him and hard on me. I’m climbing the bumps and swerving around the potholes the best I can.

Even though my dad has gotten better, he’s been struggling with bone cancer and chemo. April 9 he was admitted into Cleveland Clinic for a procedure that will hopefully put him into deep remission. He came home a week ago, but he is still recovering. He is weak and has some side effects from the procedure. The doctor says he will improve each day. I’m trying not to worry too much and be supportive. The potholes dare me to fall in, but I veer around them.

All these bumps in the road caused the potholes to only get deeper. I teetered on the edge coming close to falling in. My emotions have been strong, and I record them in my journal. The problem is my writing was left back down the road, always stuck in a rut. I can pour out my thoughts in these blog posts, but I can’t go back to reliving the pain of the past to write my book.

My second memoir, like my first, involves writing about some deep emotions and about very painful times in my life. It’s very hard to write about this when I’m climbing over the bumps and working to avoid the potholes in my present life. I can’t risk falling into the holes by adding the pain of the past with the bumpy roads of the present. So, I have not been working on my book. I’ve taken it out of the rut, and I’m allowing it to sit beside the road until things get better or when I feel like I can handle working on it again. Right now, my focus is on my family and taking care of my mental health. I will finish my book, but it must be when I’m sure I can handle reliving the past. Falling down a hole of any type is not an option. I can’t go in that direction again.

Life always has bumpy roads and big potholes, but you are strong. You can make it over the bumps and around the potholes. When things get tough, remember to use your coping techniques and make sure your mental health takes priority. If you have to leave things lingering on the side of the road while you’re avoiding the potholes, that’s okay. Your mental illness must come first.

Despite everything going on in my life, I have been using coping techniques I have learned, and I think I’m doing well. I’m very proud of how well I am handling everything. Coping helps me stand above the potholes and in the light of recovery.

FACING A ROUGH TIME

Published on by Aimee Eddy4 Comments

Cancer has affected almost everyone’s life in some way or another, whether it be a friend, co-worker, family member, or your own journey. Cancer likes to rear its ugly head and leave a wound or scar on the soul. It’s hard to face going through your own cancer and then face it again with a loved one. When you have depression and anxiety, facing hardships like this can deepen your illness or send you down that dark hole again.

When my grandpa got prostate cancer many years ago, they said he’d die of natural causes before he’d die of cancer. The sad thing is the cancer spread throughout his body and he struggled to the end. I kept breaking down so much when I went to see him in the hospital that I couldn’t go see him anymore.

Then when I learned I had breast cancer, my thoughts went back to my grandpa and I thought I was also going to die a miserable death, but I didn’t. I’m still here, proud to be a survivor.

I prayed cancer would never affect our family again, but it has. After a week long vacation, my husband and I came home to the news that my dad has bone cancer. I put on a brave face on for my parents, but when I got home, I broke down. I cried in Lou’s arms. Then in the days after the announcement, I went from okay to falling apart. It became a matter of waiting to see when they would start chemo and the next steps. I didn’t have to go through chemo when I had cancer, but there was a lot of dreaded waiting. Waiting to find out if I had the BRCA gene, waiting to find out what was next, and wondering what was going to happen to me. All those memories returned with my dad. The old emotions and fears resurfaced.

My dad is a handy man and a mechanic. He can fix almost anything. He fixes cars, lawn mowers, and even private airplanes. He has fixed and still fixes many of my vehicles. He does repairs around his own home, has helped remodel his church and has done repairs in my home. If he’s sitting down too long, he thinks he’s being lazy. He gives from the bottom of his heart to his family, friends, and strangers. I don’t always agree on his views, but I love him endlessly. Hearing he has bone cancer sent a knife deep in my heart.

My father has always been a healthy, active man even at seventy-four. Nothing kept him down. His oncologist said his cancer wasn’t life threatening, but they said something similar about Grandpa’s. I can’t bear the thought of losing my dad from a miserable struggle with this horrible disease. This troubled me greatly. I don’t want to lose my dad. I cried more tears in Lou’s arms.

Then my dad had to take a class about his treatment and start shots and chemo. My younger sister came to town to go to appointments with them. I was relieved but I felt guilty. I stress every six months when I go to the cancer center for my checkups, but going there for my dad seemed even more frightening. I just couldn’t do it, but I felt it was my responsibility. My older sister is struggling with health problems, and as the second oldest I should be at my parents’ side while my dad goes through his treatments, but emotionally I can’t handle it.

I remember making the decision to have a double mastectomy and then a full hysterectomy. I cried about it and agonized over it. Then there was the news that I would have to wait six months to do reconstruction and it would take several surgeries for it. I decided not to do reconstruction, and I had to learn to love myself as a woman without breasts. I felt like I was getting one let down one after another. My whole life was changing, and I fell into a depression. Those feelings came back as my dad faced his treatments.

When my sister told me the details of my dad’s treatments, I realized my dad’s life would be forever changed. His food had to be washed before being prepared, masks in public, washing his hands frequently, being susceptible to illnesses, and chemo every day. I felt that anguish inside me like the anguish I felt when I had cancer.

Then as we came closer to the beginning of his treatments, I began to worry obsessively how chemo would affect him. Would he no longer be that active and strong man I always knew? Would he get very sick? Would he need lots of extra care? The worries flooded me, and I felt the sadness of depression taking control. My muscles were tense, my stomach twisted, and the tears came expectantly. I struggled to sleep or even focus on everyday things.

When he made it through his first shots and chemo pill without many problems, I sighed with relief. Now I worry about him catching an illness and ending up in the hospital. I worry about my dad having more side effects from the chemo pill the longer he takes it. The worries flood my mind and I feel like I’m losing control of my illness. I feel the pain of my emotions searing throughout my soul. The tears, the endless worries, and my chest tightening has me struggling to hold on to the edge of my hole. I feel like I’m losing control, and I will be at the bottom of that hole again.

I remind myself this is just a rough time, and I can get back to the top of the hole again. I lean on my support system, I journal my feelings, and I plan to work on some woodburning projects and my next book. I talked to my psychiatrist about my struggles with my depression during this rough time, and he upped my medicine.

Rough times are part of recovery from mental illness and part of the struggle with this sickness. The important part of dealing with rough times is using coping techniques, leaning on your support team, and asking for extra help from your therapist or psychiatrist. There will always be bad things happening in our lives, threatening to make the struggle with or recovery from mental illness rougher, but the most important thing is how you handle it. Don’t let it destroy you or throw you down that hole again. You can get through life’s heartaches and still work towards recovery or stay in recovery.

My dad’s journey has just begun and what is to come is unknown. Our hopes are that he will reach recovery. My struggles with this rough time will take a lot of work and coping, but I will soon stand in the light of recovery again.