Tag: angst

Broken Wheels

Broken Wheels

by katelharc77 ♥ 10 Comments

Ever so gradually, as each week passes, I have felt the wheels falling off my resolve a little.

This past week has been particularly tough. After finishing my final dose of AC chemotherapy three weeks ago and starting to feel better, I hit a snag last Wednesday with the sudden onset of vomiting, nausea and fatigue. It completely caught me off-guard and left me with a mouth full of ulcers over Easter. How mean is that, taking away my chance of unfettered chocolate indulgence? Instead I spent the long weekend gargling salt water, unable to eat and feeling really flat.

It takes a lot of energy to stay upbeat and positive in the face of cancer. Even on the days when the sun is shining, my diagnosis hovers like an ever-present black shadow. I can push to look beyond the shade, but the sun on my face is never as bright.

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Master Of My Domain

Master Of My Domain

by katelharc77 ♥ 40 Comments

Mange has struck crisis levels, kids. It’s time for action.

mangy kate 2

There isn’t much on this horrid breast cancer journey that I get to take control of, but this is one little thing I can.

Here’s to being ‘Master of my hair(loss) Domain’!

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Not sinking, Swimming.

Not sinking, Swimming.

by katelharc77 ♥ 1 Comment

If I had to think of a metaphor for the way I feel most days, it would be treading water: trying to keep my head above the water line, struggling to keep carrying on as normal, while my legs make frantic circles below, unseen. Most of the time I manage to do this, but the unseen struggle continues. On the outside I can seem strong, upbeat and at times even funny, but inside, I am riding daily waves of turmoil. Still, I am swimming, not sinking.

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Screaming Heads and Gold-leaf Scrapbooking…

Screaming Heads and Gold-leaf Scrapbooking…

by katelharc77 ♥ 6 Comments

I awoke in a sweaty haze again this morning, with pre-dawn darkness still cloaking our room; the world outside silent and still. Since my diagnosis, I have come to know the loneliness of these early hours more closely than ever before. It’s hard. Time inches forward while my mind does pinwheels.

It is in those lonely hours that I allow myself to confront my gravest fears. Perhaps it’s not such a conscious decision to do so, but rather a surrender of sorts. In the daylight, distracted by the relative normality of life, I push them away. But at night they are overwhelming.

I probably don’t need to spell them out to you. For those of us confronted with our mortality, it’s a pretty sobering time. And yet we all know we are going to die some time. We’re just never ready to be reminded of it, especially at the tender age of 37. Read more ›