It is 7:35 a.m. The kids are at school; Steve left for work an hour ago. I sit here in my pajamas, slippers and night cap and ponder the day. My body still hurts from my fall. I am exhausted. Emotionally, more than anything else.
Yesterday was my last day of work. I did not plan it that way, it just happened. I knew my seizures were a big indicator of something awry, as if my breast cancer is not enough. When the grand mal seizures occurred on Friday night, I knew it was the beginning of the end of my life, the way I had been living it. When I walked into my office yesterday morning, I knew I just could not "have it all" anymore.
Never in my life have I let my epilepsy have power over my decisions. Obviously, I have always had a few limitations. But, my limitations have been few and far between. Logical. The seizures I had on Friday night were very scary. I imagine those who care for me will be extra cautious in the coming months, double checking when/that I took my medications, etc. I will try not to let that get on my nerves. What bothers me more than anything is this sense that my epilepsy is the reason I had to temporarily walk away from my job yesterday.
I have been told that the epilepsy is not the cause - the cancer is - the epilepsy is just a complication. My body sending me a sign. I think I can go with that. However, having epilepsy my entire life, the epilepsy is what strikes at my core. My epilepsy is what eats at my self-confidence. The epilepsy is visible; the cancer is not. I suppose once I have the proposed bilateral mastectomy, my cancer will become more real to those around me. For now, all they see is a tired, but in control, Marsi with a beautiful bald head (or wig, or hat). Control is the operative word here.
I am trying to stay positive. However, staying positive for me requires a practiced ignorance that I am not sure is possible with out having a job for a crutch. Although, I do have a lot to do. For one, my house needs a lot of work, but being inspired by my house was never my strong suit, especially without a car to follow my inspirations to the store. (I have always been good at the shopping part; not necessarily the organizing part.)
I also know I need to get exercising and ready for my mastectomy. Then again, it seems so ironic to exercise so that you can lose the most attractive part of your body. I realize that gaining strength now will help me heal faster. It is just not exactly a surgery I am looking forward to. (Of course, my breast IS trying to kill me.)
I know this post probably sounds awfully depressing. Sorry about that. Then again, walking away from my job was one of the hardest things I have had to do in my breast cancer journey. But true to form, I will find my way back to the positive attitude necessary to my recovery. I just may need a little help from my friends!