My Pa often yells (lectures?) me about my tendency to worry about things that I either have no control over or haven't happened yet. He especially dislikes when I worry about things that haven't happened yet. If I could stop doing it, believe me I would. Just so y'all get a glimpse into my crazy ass mind (today it's full of an Army of James Browns singing, "PAYBACK!") , here is a sampling of my crazy.
Oh, did you think I was going to put cancer as number one? Obviously you have not met me. I HATE BUGS, especially those that infest my house and ugh.... I shouldn't be thinking such things before going to sleep. Nightmares could be had. I hate these fuckers. Every time I see one, I always have the same reaction: shriek, flail my arms about as if I'm having an attack, and shout the name of mi amour. Years before meeting my sweetie, I repeatedly joked to my dad that I would marry someone because I needed a guy to kill bugs for me and open jars. Well, it turns out that I was only half-joking to my pa.
I worry a lot about bugs.... a whole lot.
In case you were wondering, I'm not mental. I did just put cancer below stink bugs. Anyway, cancer has yet to get that phobic "OH MY GOD" reaction from me. Cancer does have a lot of sub-categories in the topic of "Things that Worry Lara."
- Death. I have a potentially fatal disease that while may not take me now, it could very well reoccur and try again five years down the road. Of course death is the first thing to spring to mind. I'm not being negative - I'm being realistic. (If anyone says, "Oh be positive, Lara," I will beat you.) Everything we do now is try to minimize the risk of a reoccurence from happening. Cancer isn't something you "beat" and then never have to think about again. This is my life now. Mammograms, ultrasounds, being on a first-name basis with my doctor's office, etc. I worry about death in the next two or five years. The decisions I make now are going to have serious ramifications on my care in the future, too.
- My looks. Chemotherapy and cancer has this reputation of making one frail and skin and bones. I thought that too, until I started researching the side effects of certain therapies. Yeah. A lot of the adjunct therapies that breast cancer patients undertake can cause significant weight gain, on top of the hair loss. Fabulous. I have the potential of being bald and overweight for the first time in my life. General public has such a hatred toward overweight people. They are fat and lazy and eat cheeseburgers all day, right? Ughhhh. A lot of jagoffs don't take into consideration that some medications cause side effects like weight gain. Well, good thing I have no problem of telling people off if anyone says anything derogatory about my looks. The fucked up thing - I'm even worrying about this in the first place.
- The men related to me. I'm getting this impression that the men in my family aren't handling this all that well. I don't know if they are in denial or emotionally stunted robots. ("Oh no. Emotional overload. DANGER DANGER.") Eh I shouldn't be so flippant. I understand that this is difficult for them. My brothers remember my mom and the struggles she went through, and I don't. To me, this is my breast cancer. To the men in my family, this is a reminder of what my mom went through and eventually died from. I have one brother who's uber emotional and depressing about things (he's trying though, after I've text-yelled at him about some things), and I have another brother who I wasn't close to before who's not an emotionally demonstrative person. My dad, the least emotionally demonstrative of us all, sometimes acts as if I am coming down with a cold, nothing to worry about, folks. I'm not saying I want my dad to break character and sob in front of me, "My baby! Not my baby!" A reaction like that would make me think I am dying, dear lord. I don't know... maybe some emotional reaction? A hug? A hearty pat on the back coupled with Sad Face? (He likely is reading this right now. Hi Dad.)
I worry about it a lot. I just bought a house this year. Why of all years, did a buy a house the year I get cancer? Fate, you cruel vixen. Luckily my constant worry about money has inspired me to save up a huge "rainy day" fund . Well, folks. It's raining. Any day I take off this year for treatment and the like will be unpaid. Let me be the inspiration for all of you starting your own rainy day funds.
Enough over analyzing for the night. Tomorrow is D-day. I should have some answers. If not, I'm knocking heads or I'm sending my friend Amber after them. She knows how to cut a bitch.