Surviving Cancer

I have not had the inspiration to write lately. I’ve been striving to just make it through the day most days. My life right now is not what I imagined it would be. Right now, I picture myself making memories with my kids and husband; laughing, smiling, being the mom that I want to be. Instead, I am trapped. Trapped in this cancer storm of fatigue and exhaustion.

I found out several weeks ago that my cancer is in fact genetic. I tested positive for the BRCA 2 gene. For those of you who are unfamiliar with gene mutations, which I assume most of you are, having this mutation increases your chance of having breast cancer in your lifetime from the about 12% to 70%. Now, if those statistics weren’t bad enough, this specific mutation also increases your risk of ovarian cancer from just under 2% to up to 44%.

If me having cancer wasn’t bad enough, me having this mutation gives my children a 50% chance of inheriting this gene mutation from me. Henceforth, giving them the same terrible, increased odds of getting a hormone related cancer in their lifetime. I can’t even tell you how defeated those odds makes me feel. I potentially passed on this mutation to the loves of my life, and if I dwell on that too much, I go to a real dark place. A place all too familiar these days.

I can’t even remember the last time I wore jeans, because I hate them. And now, I also hate genes. It is more likely than not that I inherited this gene mutation from one of my parents. There is, however, a rare chance that the BRCA mutation started with me in my family. Only time will tell, as we wait for my parents to be tested.

Thinking about genes always put me in a sour mood now, and my sour mood is fitting after the day I had today. A day like any other. I was home with my kids while Josh was at school. It was a day I could barely handle because of how tired I get. I don’t get to give my kids the attention and interaction they deserve. My goal on days home with them, is to make through the day. If that means watching TV all day, I do it, because I have to.

I’m constantly trapped in a prison of positivity, when all I want to do is have someone tell me that my fears, my sadness, my darkness, is ok. Sometimes, I get trapped in my cancer storm and all of my worst thoughts surface. I have no where for them to go but out. I hold them in far too often. So here I go, unloading them onto my unknowing readers.

I fear I will always feel tired. I fear I will miss out on time with kids. I fear this cancer has changed who I am. I fear I’ll never have the option to have another child. I fear more surgeries. I fear more scars. I fear my kids won’t get the mom that they deserve. I fear my children inherited my gene mutation. I fear dying early.

I could go on and on, but these are the main fears that I have, on a daily basis. I just want to have a life where I’m not tired. A life where I get to be involved with my children and be happy with the time I have them. A life where I embrace and cherish days home, little triumphs, and moving forward.

I write this to my readers, but I write this to God too. My little prayer on paper.