Thursday, November 19, 2009

Plan C

I found a bottle of Meperdine in a drawer in my bedroom. That's like striking gold in the "i-can't-sleep" world. It as expired. By a very long time. Ran it by some friends, and decided that it certainly couldn't have fermented or soured...the only bad thing surely would be loss of efficacy. So I took it. I'm still up pretty late at night, but sleeping the last few nights, and into most of the day. I'm waiting for that "I am falling asleep now" feeling to strike me tonight.

Oncologist appointment on this coming Tuesday. Nurse said I could try 3mg Lunesta samples. I have been taking the Femara in the AM instead of PM. Not sure if I can tell any difference yet.

I was lying in bed a few minutes ago, started crying. With all I have on my plate, and all the worries about our country, health care, the current administration, end of days...seriously, I don't have the fight left in me for that. I really hope that "preparing for the 2nd coming" doesn't mean staying here through the melee before it happens. I prayed that I could fulfill the measure of my creation and come to that rest of which Alma spoke.

I've been fighting all my life. Childhood physical, sexual and mental abuse (the effects of which are pretty deeply embedded); my eye injury and the hit my self esteem took from years of teasing, looking different; the fight to survive when the abuse all came to light and had to be dealt with, the fight to return to the gospel after turning my back for a few years, the fight of realizing I was in a bad marriage, the fight to raise my child alone and work full time, to try to be social, to hope against hope to meet someone to remarry; then turning my back on that idea and spending several years inactive and inappropriate again, and the fight to give that up. Six months after that decision came the original cancer diagnosis. Everyone knows what a fight that is, with chemo and hair loss and radiation and burns and surgeries, and decisions. And always the fights I cause myself because I seem to be unable to keep my mouth shut when I believe something is wrong. Now, metastatic cancer, and a world and country seemingly on the road to destruction...I have no fight left for this cancer or this world. I have no fight left to stand up to injustice, no fight left to be brave and endure treatments to extend a life I don't want anymore should this spread and come to that, which it eventually will. I'm tired and empty. I have no more strength. I don't want to get strong and endure more; I want to be finished.

The paperwork and money side of having cancer may kill me before the cancer though. I don't know how I am going to make it on disability. My depression and sleep issues are effecting my son. Hopefully he'll do better when school starts at the new semester, with a reason to be out of the house and keep busy. I can't stop crying now, and don't feel that drugged need to sleep yet. Maybe I had some duds in the bunch. Or maybe the Femara trumps everything, and I learn to live with this, or let them switch me to meds with worse side-effects, like swelling in the hands and feet, reddness, peeling...

Anyway...I'm out of fight. A lifetime of it has used it all up. In the hospital, my oncologist told me to reach deep and find the fight that I used to survive the first round. There's nothing left for which to reach down. I have faced this life alone for the most part, aside from the Lord, and I can't believe the things I volunteered for, challenges I accepted in this life. There has to be an end to which to endure.

I know that if things came to bad, my mother doesn't want me living with her. She didn't even want me there for 2 weeks so they'd let me leave the hospital and have supervision. So I can't lose my house, I can't walk away; I have to find a way to make do.

I don't want to live in the world of unavailable health care because of a govt run system. I don't want to live in the days of the Anti-Christ, or even the puppet and forerunner of the Anti-Christ. I don't have the drive or fight left for any kind of resistance movement, underground or otherwise. I'm old, beaten down, worn out and tired.

And, boy, if you ever feel you're just too darn optimistic, just call on me; I can bring a downer to any situation lately!