Some people cry a lot.
I’m not one of those people.
Except for the past week when it seems as if I’ve cried – if not a river – at least a stream. Or maybe a brook. In other words, I’ve cried a lot more than I ever allow myself to cry.
You see, I am an optimist. I’m hopeful. Confident. Cheerful. Strong.
I don’t give in to negative tendencies. Even when I was first diagnosed with ovarian cancer, my first reactions were positive ones. “Look for the blessings,” I told myself. And they were plentiful. And I noticed them and shared them with my Facebook friends.
And I was rewarded.
I was heralded, lauded and celebrated. People called me an “inspiration.” They said I was amazing, courageous, beautiful, strong, indomitable. One friend called me a ‘spiritual warrior’.
And now? What would they say about me now that I’m a sniveling mess? A spiritual wimp? Or wuss? Or weak?
I hate being around pathetic, negative and downer people. I don’t like me when I’m like this.
Oh, I have my reasons for this crying jag – all justified. For the second straight week, I’ve been unable to get chemo treatments because my white blood cell counts are too low. It means that “this” – this sickness – this cancer – this baldness – and whatever maladies come with it … is all going to last into 2017.
It’s only two weeks extra – assuming that there aren’t other setbacks. But the hard deadline of the end of December is now busted.
Time has a different urgency than before. Although, I also confess to wasting a lot of it – time – of late. I am unfocused. I am scattered and fuzzy. I am forgetful.
I can blame it on chemo, as I flippantly do. Or, I can blame it on me – on my lack of discipline, or my addiction to sugar, or my inability to meditate in the morning.
Is this a delayed reaction? Is it denial? Have I been repressing these negative emotions for the past 2 1/2 months to the point that they can no longer be suppressed?
The staff at Kaiser noticed that I wasn’t my normally chipper self today. So concerned were they, that they had a Social Worker call me this afternoon. She gave me some helpful advice. She let me cry. She said all the right stuff and assured me that crying was normal and necessary.
Besides the cancer, there’s one more good reason to cry. My stepdaughter, Erica, is moving to England. She leaves today. She’ll be pursuing her Ph.D. for at least three years. She’ll be 27 soon, and it’s not like she’s been living with us for her entire life. But I will miss her a lot.
She told me recently that she made the decision to accept the Ph.D. candidacy at the University of Sussex – despite the hefty financial investment – upon learning of my diagnosis. She had wrestled with the decision for many months, but after hearing from me she decided to just go for it.
Erica and I hugged and cried this evening while her Dad was downstairs loading her three giant suitcases and beefy backpack into the car. I could have squeezed into the back seat but I would have probably cried all the way to LAX and back. Such is the state I’m in.
I know I’ve been an inspiration for her wanderlust and courage in traveling the world as a confident young woman.
I know, because I used to be her.
::
I always have Scott proof my blog posts before I publish. His instincts – from the reader’s point of view – are usually accurate. Whenever I don’t take his advice, I’ve regretted it.
He says I have to finish with something positive. Ugh. (I guess he doesn’t like me like this, either.)
So here’s something that was wonderful about this past week: Scott and I enjoyed a road trip to Joshua Tree National Park last weekend. It’s only a 3-hour drive, but neither of us had ever been there before. We stayed at a nondescript roadside motel for $58. We scampered over and around the massive rocks and watched the sunset and the full moonrise. We took playful photos. We took a nap. We debated about whether we’d ever enjoy camping like we used to when we were young. We wondered why we’d never been here before . . .
Ellen Borowka
September 23, 2016Hi Marilyn, I’m glad you are allowing yourself to be real with this. It’s a big thing – scary and frustrating. The journey goes up and down and then some more up and some more down. The down parts really suck. I’m glad you spoke to a social worker… that is great! You will be ok… Love is with you every step of the way. Even when you can’t feel Mother/Father God… He/She is with you – right beside you – every step of the way. And the rest of us are here for you too. Much love, Ellen & Dana & the Birdies
Nina mihranian
September 23, 2016May God give you the courage you need to fight this disease in the way you want to.
Ask for it. Pray
Hilda Haigazian
September 24, 2016Dear Marilyn
This Wow journey will have ups and downs you are human and it is totally ok to cry. All of this will be over before you know it, a week or 2 will not make a difference. you are an amazing and strong women and you look beautiful with no hair. Remember you are not alone on this difficult journey someone is watching over you and we are here next to you every step you take. I admire your courage and love you. Praying for you 🙏🙏😍😍😍😍😘😘👍👍
Theresa Beaver
September 24, 2016You know what, Marilyn? Even though you cried all week, I still think of you as an inspiration, amazing, courageous, beautiful, strong, and indomitable! Yes, still Beautiful, even without hair!
Helene Volkman
September 25, 2016Marilyn, it’s ok to cry. That certainly does not mean you’re not still an optimist! Optimism is the personality you were born with and it’s a great thing to have. You can’t change it even if you try. That doesn’t mean you’ll never have a reason to cry, and sometimes a person just has to, and it’s for a good reason. You have more courage than most people. Think of all the people you inspire!
My daughter Robin has called me a Pollyanna, that I’m not realistic. I just say, that’s me. I can’t change even if I wanted to, and I don’t. Just stay the same as you are, Marilyn. Think of how one day you’ll look back on this having conquered the Big C. No one who hasn’t gone through it will never really understand. I know you’ll get rid of this and be back to being the real Marilyn. I can’t wait to see how your hair will grow back – maybe you’ll have lots of curls!
Love,
Helene
Yvonne Restine
September 26, 2016Marilyn you are an inspiration! I think you look fabulous bald (especially in the photo with Wanderlust behind you!) because your smile radiates your thrill for life! The wigs you chose are striking but I do like you bald with a smile! I had not checked in since your “poop” blog. I think I was scared for you and nervous for me. I didn’t want to hear negative news. Now I’m so happy I read through all your postings so I know you have mostly “up’s” and some “down’s”. Your positive energy is inspirational. You truly are a wonderful story teller and I look forward to the happy ending of this story and learning about your next adventure in life! With much love and admiration, Yvonne Restine (S.D. Chapter NECA) PS-Give your mind and body a little time to catch up to your enthusiastic Spirit… I hope you and Scott toast with a little Proseco on Valentine’s Day, the end of the “Chemo Cocktails”!
Rhonda Grissom
September 29, 2016Marilyn, I’ve thought of you often lately. Like you, I’m not a crier. I’ve always associated crying with feeling sorry for myself, something I refuse to do. However, my father died recently, and it occurred to me that sometimes you cry just because you feel sad. So simple and so normal. Nothing to be ashamed of or to be frustrated over. And remember, people who really love you, love you no matter what.
Love, Rhonda
Maurci Martin
September 29, 2016Hey Marilyn,
Know you don’t like the moodiness, but sometimes girl – you just have to let it out! This all does really suck pond scum, and it just has to be hellaciously frustrating when the treatment plan hits a roadblock! Keep up the Courage under fire when you can, go to the cool little places you all can since you know how TRAVEL always boosts your spirits, write, and when the mood strikes you, just cry/ scream/whatever. It’s all therapeutic to get you through this lousy,nasty business. Love you weepy, or happy, or in between! Healing thoughts to you on this journey! HUGS
Gloria Vogt-Nilsen
September 29, 2016Marilyn,
You are human. If crying is what you need go for it. My sister use to throw plates against the wall. It made her feel better. She had breast cancer and chemo treatments. She is cancer free for 12 years now. So will you be.
All my love!
Beth Oslander
September 30, 2016I had a little crying session while my boyfriend was massaging me because I had so much stresss I didn’t realize I was holding in, most of which I am carrying in my traps. I realized how healing it is to cry. Our body’s way of healing our souls. You’re doing fine MM and I like the way you ended your blog. I keep wondering why I’ve never been to Lake Tahoe.
Elaine Slonina
September 30, 2016Marilyn, I just read your last post. You are one heck of a gal!!! I love you and admire you although we have never met. From one cancer “experiencer” to another, I believe I get it. You will make your way through this hump just like you’ve made your way through all of the others in your life cuz that is who you are. Bitching, moaning, screaming and crying are all so human. Doesn’t mean we are weak. In fact, the opposite. My thoughts and prayers won’t cease till you tell us you want us to stop. ❤️ Elaine
Brenda Skelly
September 30, 2016Hi Marilyn.
I’ve missed you since our recent visit. I have to tell you that this blog only makes me admire you more. If you were to go through this crappy thing without any sadness or tears, you wouldn’t be human. You are the last person I would consider negative, weak or a spiritual mess. You remain courageous and strong and just a tremendous person to share all of this with us.
I send you love and I look forward to our next happy hour!
Brenda
Laila
October 1, 2016Marilyn,you are a lovely person,in good times and in tough times.It is therapeutic to share your journey with people who care,I look forward every week to read your blog. Your presentation is inspirational and remember crying is the best release mechanism we have ,so thanks for sharing,we are here with you hand in hand . Hugs. Laila
Nancy Goodell
October 6, 2016Oh, Marilyn. I am so deeply touched by your story and your latest entry. I am holding you in my heart with the deepest of empathy. Please remember that your hopeful, spunky, spirited, inspiring self is in no way diminished by your tears. They are a part of your tenderness and of course your connection to reality! You are a reminder to all of us that”its alright to cry, crying gets the sadness out…it helps make us feel better.” Remember Rosie Greer, the big football player, singing that on the album from the early 70’s FREE TO BE YOU FREE TO BE ME?? I love you, my dear friend. Nancy