I’m surprised by how much getting my PSA results 30 hours ago affected me yesterday and today. It’s been a real struggle.
Anger. That’s the word of the last 24 hours. I just want to scream, “Would you make up your fucking mind already?!?! Either come back and let’s battle this cancer shit head-on, or get the fuck out of my life once and for all!!” (Told you I’m pissed.) It’s the uncertainty that comes with each test result that’s getting to me. And the fact that this will happen every four months for the foreseeable future is growing really tiresome.
Logic tells the data-driven part of me that I’m okay—that I’m still considered to be cancer-free for now. It’s probably because I am so data-driven that I’m getting so angered and frustrated. Cancer doesn’t always follow a logical path; it doesn’t always fit neatly into cells in a spreadsheet. I need be better at accepting that fact. (You would have thought that I would have learned this after 6+ years of dealing with this.)
Sorry if I offended with my language, but when I started this blog, it was intended to be a raw sharing of thoughts and emotions, and it’s something that I needed to do today, otherwise my head would explode. Really.
And, no, I’m not wishing for the cancer to come back. I’m grateful that I’m still here and able to whine about it. Truly. I guess frayed nerves, anger, and frustration are small prices to pay for longevity.