Over the last week I have encountered a lot of frustration. Arm still a bit achy from surgery the week before, I had caught cold and then work in the I/DD field in Kansas just sucks right now. Easiest way to put it. Thanks Sammy B, you jerk.
On Friday, my frustration came crushing down. I was going to a fundraiser Friday night, Will's Warriors, to raise funds for a dear little one diagnosed with cancer, the grandson of some lovely friends at church. I wanted to wear a winter dress and leggings so I am sifting through my closet and pull out the first dress I wanted to wear, get it over my head and can't get it to fit over my increasingly LARGE port in my left arm. Frustrating, so I throw it aside and try another one. Same problem. This damn port in my arm has increased in size, imagine egg in your elbow and as winter hits I am finding it harder to get tighter clothing over it. Third dress was NOT a charm either. By this time, tears streaming down my face as I am left with the dilemma of what the heck am I going to wear now as well as now my arm is throbbing from trying on so many clothes and the movement. What dress is going to fit over this damn fat arm? I finally get settled on an old short sleeve dress and threw a cardigan over it. Head out and make a stop at the ATM for cash for the cash bar and silent auction items and as soon as my card goes in the ATM I get a notice on the screen that my bank account is frozen for suspected fraud.
By this time I am really angry so I pull up in a parking spot and hotly call Bank of America, connect with their fraud department and confirm my most recent deposits and purchases. This is where I learn that my purchase Thursday of a Home Depot Gift Card for a Christmas gift has stopped everything in my bank account. I think I almost screamed WTF at the customer service rep at this point. I attempted to calmly tell her yes I purchased that for a Christmas gift, good grief and she undid the hold on my account so I could pull out cash. By this time, I almost was ready to go home and call it a night.
The fundraiser was fun and a lot of funds were raised for the little guy and his family. Up early and at 'em for Saturday as I felt I needed to attend the MGA Holiday Party since I am on the Board of Directors. You may recall that years ago I attended one support group and vowed to never go again because it made me feel so crippled and disabled and I was the only one there under about 60. I tried not to think about that as I drove to the party but once I arrived all the feelings came crippling back. I felt like I was at a nursing home variety show. The entertainment was this duo who thought they were hilariously funny with their mime and magic tricks. I was NOT amused and was all I could do to hold back tears. Through the lunch line a girl near my age asked me about traveling and how I did on airplanes. I was kind of surprised at the question and not sure why she was asking but said traveling usually goes just fine for me. Then she followed up with something about hearing how people with MG should avoid that kind of travel. By this time I really wanted to cry. What? Avoid travel? How are we supposed to live I thought? I don't want MG to control my life. By this time it was all I could do to sit through lunch and then rush home to vow never to go to a support group event again.
I let these frustrations get and keep me down most of the weekend. My mind kept drifting to what if I didn't have to deal with a port or didn't have to deal with a chronic illness. Negative, ugly thoughts completely filled my head.
Then today I am brought back to reality, two girls, my age, both battling cancer are in the deepest of their fights, not certain of what lies before them. Or even little Will, battling cancer too young to even know what the heck is going on. I am lucky to deal with what I deal with, I can drive myself to and from places, sleep in the comfort of my own bed, have the energy to go to events, share in the bliss of the season and take my naughty dog on walks when I want. And the best part of it all, under all this frustration, a lady told me Friday night, that she definitely thinks my smile and face are looking stronger over the past couple of weeks. A true sign that the chemo is definitely working.
Keep Smiling.
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