Fear of the Known and Unknown

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It is said that knowledge is power, and I used to believe that whole-heartedly.  Then, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  That knowledge terrifies me.  Just when I felt like I had made a tentative truce with that fact, the fear came raging back, as I began to educate myself about the disease and treatment options.  Knowledge is a power that has paralyzed me.

As I waded through the information that the surgeon handed me in a rather nondescript folder, I soon found myself faced with vivid descriptions of what I now know and what awaits me in the near future.  The words and images it contained ignited a firestorm of fear within me, and a torrent of tears and sobs consumed me.  Logically, I understand that I need to educate myself, but honestly, I don’t want to be a student of this disease.  Ignorance is truly bliss.

Right now, my body and mind feel like they are in an emotional vise.  I am both angry and immensely sad that my daughters now worry that I am going to die and that my family and friends, who have seen me through infertility, divorce, and depression and anxiety, now have to contend with this latest challenge of mine.  I don’t want to be a burden or a source of worry for anyone, as they have been through too much with me already.

Selfishly, I don’t want to face yet another challenge, as I don’t want to be strong or courageous for myself or anyone else for that matter.  I’m just an ordinary girl from Kentucky, and I crave a quiet, simple life that doesn’t include breast cancer, drugs I cannot pronounce, procedures that sound barbaric, and dreadful sounding side effects, especially since there are no guarantees that it will eradicate the cancer and/or prevent it from making a reappearance in the future.  I am more than ready to revoke my membership in this club, as it really sucks so far.

I don’t want this disease to define me or change me in a negative way, but I fear that it is already.  I wonder if I will recover physically and emotionally, and I wonder if my daughters and other loved ones will get through this in one piece.  I wonder who will stick around and who will leave, and I wonder if any guy will ever be able to see past the newest layer of physical and emotional scars to love the person underneath them.  I wonder if I will be able to keep my home, my job, and some semblance of my current life through the physical, emotional, and financial demands of fighting for my life, and I wonder if the dreams of my childhood will ever become the realities of my adulthood.  I wonder what life after cancer will look like, and I hope and pray that I get to find out for myself very soon.

That’s another story. . .

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‹ I Have Cancer; It Doesn’t Have Me

Day 1 of Gratitude ›

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Categories: That's Another Story

Tags: breast cancer, cancer, Fear of the Known and Unknown, that's another story