It would be a vast understatement to say that my life is not turning out exactly as I had envisioned. It has strayed from the path.
Just when my MS starts to behave and I think I might get a short break from all the “off-roading” I find myself thrown off the path, once again covered in mud.
But how deep is this mud? Is it quicksand-mud? Or just a little bit of dirt? Can I easily walk out of it and get back to the path or will I start to sink?
It is going to take a little while to figure out how deep or how shallow this cancer-muckity-muck is. I am stuck in the mud waiting on phone calls with my PET scan results and my LDH levels or with dates that my surgery can be scheduled. Then I will wait to see how the surgery goes, how much they have to remove and how extensive the repairs will be to the tumor site, whether it will be an easy close or will require reconstructive surgery. They will take out 3 or 4 of my lymph nodes and I will wait some more in the mud for them to tell me that they showed no signs that the melanoma has spread, or they will tell me the unthinkable news that it did show up in my lymph nodes.
People come to visit me in the mud, standing cautiously at its edges. My regular doctors and nurses come by and new doctors and nurses appear to join my Care Team. Friends and family arrive, at the ready in case I start to sink and they need to reach out with branches or throw ropes.
We are waiting to see what the mud does, to see how I react to this new mud and to see how long it will take to get out of it, so I can get back to the path that I was on…the path which will inevitably have changed by the time I return to it. So I will have to go in search of it, or else find a new path altogether, which is sad, scary, exciting and infuriating all at once. I wait in the mud and it’s lonely and messy and not at all fun.
And even though there are people all around me, I am the one back in the mud…still in the mud. Alone.
Some days are easier than others.
And some hours are simply unbearable and I am certain that I cannot possibly stand one more minute living in this muck and if I don’t get out soon I am going to lose my mind.
I just want to be a normal, healthy, non-mud-covered person making my way down the yellow brick road. Is that really so much to ask?