Time

Today is Caden's 9-month post treatment scan.  Can you believe it has been nine months since he was cleared?  In some ways, it seems like it was only yesterday.  In others, it seems like a lifetime ago.  How grateful I am for Seattle Children's Hospital, Dr. Hawkins, Sue Ehling, Dr. Heely, and all of the countless men and women that helped heal 'The Boy in the Bed.' 

As stated before, I have been struggling with depression and PTSD.  I have had many hard times, hard days, and some hard weeks.  Circumstances placed me in a situation where I was completely out of control of my mind- it is not a good feeling.  I like to think of myself as someone that gives her all, that does what she puts her mind to, and conquers the challenges in her path, quickly.  I know what I want, and I get what I work for.  But with this, it was my mind that was broken in a time when I wanted to put my mind to work the hardest.  And I couldn't.  No matter how much I tried, how much I worked, or how much I wanted to.  At times, I felt crazy, lazy, guilty, emotional, and psychotic all at once.  I didn't want to do the dishes, yet I didn't like the house being a wreck, yet I couldn't get off the couch, and felt guilt when Randy did them for me, but was happy when they got done.  It was a very confusing time for me.  I felt adrift, lost, and scared that I would never get better.  Because no matter how much I wanted to forget, I always remembered how much I could do before.  I liked myself back then, I wanted that girl back.

Over the past few weeks, I have had days where it felt like the old Stephanie was back.  I would start to get my hopes up that all was well again.  I would hope for the end of my lonely, desolate road.  And then a few bad days would come and I was drowning in the ice-cold waters of despair, once again.  There was no reason why, I just felt sad or mad or lazy...  And the fear of the "new" broken Stephanie was suffocating.  Would I always live like this?

Caden's suffering had an end date.  I'm not saying that what I have been going through is anything like his pain, but we knew that on May 7, 2014 his massive tumor would be removed.  Then we knew that it was only two more rounds, that his last day of Chemotherapy would be on June 30, 2014.  That is the day that I consider him Cancer free.  There was nothing else that could have been done, treatment was over on that day.  But with me, I had no idea when my mind would be healed, no idea when my emotions would be more manageable, no idea when my kids would have their mom back or my Mister would have his wife back.  There was never an end date that could be given.

Time!  I am so grateful for the years and years of time that I get with my brave Caden.  I'm grateful for the weeks and weeks of one-on-one time that I really got to know my son.  He is even more wonderful that I ever knew.  He is my hero.  However, with time as my answer of healing, it felt hard to be grateful for an indefinite amount.  Would I be stuck this way for weeks, months, years?  With my personality of 'get it done perfect the first time, quickly,' it felt like time was my enemy.  Oh, how I hated time!

While talking with my friend about my "crash," she commiserated with me.  I've mentioned her before- her husband was diagnosed with Leukemia a few years after their twins were born.  As she and I were sharing our own hardships, it felt so refreshing hearing her say, "YES!" to my stuff, and hearing that her stories were just like mine.  Not that I would want anyone to feel as hopeless as I have felt, but that someone could understand how it felt to be so low.  To want something so bad, but not be able to really understand enough about the human brain to get it.  It's not enough to "Live in Thanksgiving Daily," it's just not that simple, sometimes.  And it killed me to know that I just couldn't do it.

After our talk, I felt a lightening of my burden.  Someone understood me.  Someone had gone through something just like me...and can function again.  She laughed with me.  She cried with me.  She hugged me deep, giving me the comfort that only one that truly understands can give.  It was a beginning of something wonderful for us both.

It felt as if our journey had brought us to an oasis, of sorts.  We sat down together under the shade of a tree.  We laughed together while dipping our legs into the cool waters of the babbling brook running next to our picnic.  We exchanged supplies from our packs, sharing what we could to help the other on the rest of their journey, keeping what we needed to survive.  Eventually it was time to continue our journey- it was time.  With tear-streaked cheeks, we embraced long, ignoring our weary arms.  One last gift was given from each- love.  As we left our oasis, a new spring in our steps, we began our journey home, once more.  However, our paths continue side-by-side now.  For how long?  Who knows?  All we have is time.

I have had some very wonderful, amazingly perfect days.  We're even coming on weeks!  I'm not saying that one talk has changed it all.   No, it has been a culmination of things.  But mostly, I know it is prayer.  I know that I'll have bad days.  I know that things will continue to get better for me.  The difference is, I can feel myself coming back.  In essence, I feel like I am waking up again.  I'm still stretching in my metaphorical bed, beautiful new bedspread draped over my legs, but I am sitting up, ready to begin again.