My MetsMonday is filled with shortness of breath, similar to what put me into the emergency room eighteen days ago. At the time, it was suspected it was a result of the treatment I was on. However, it's now suspected to be because of cancer infiltrating my bone marrow, thus compromising blood cell production.
My MetsMonday is also filled with an infected toe resulting from last week's ingrown toenail procedure. My body has to work harder to do normal things like recover from simple things like this. I'm now on antibiotics as well.
My MetsMonday is filled with my sitting with an elevated foot, writing out Christmas cards and waiting for blood results and doctor's phone calls. I'll go to my metastatic breast cancer support group tonight where I'll have to deal with the politics of an organization who believes they know what's best for the members of the support group in spite of the fact that they've never attended the group. (That post, "The Blind Leading the Sick" will probably be written after tonight's meeting.)
There's nothing glamorous or inspiring about my MetsMonday. Who wants to hear that metastatic breast cancer messes with your toes or makes you catch your breath as you walk down a hallway to go to the bathroom? Oh, no, it seems society as a whole simply wants to hear about the inspiring bald heads and those who can embrace the traits of being human to overcome the challenges of breast cancer.
Tell that to my struggling bone marrow as it tries to make the blood I need to live. Tell that to my struggling heart as it tries to pump that blood throughout my body. Tell that to my struggling toe as it tries to heal from a toenail that was growing abnormally. Tell that to the rest of my body as it struggles against the over 50 tumors I have all over the place.
Tell that to my metastatic friends, both personal and cyber, who are having surgeries, entering hospice, living a hospice life or struggling with other side effects of treatments, trying to make it through Christmas without pain. Tell that to those who are currently NED (no evidence of disease), but who live each day wondering when the next progression will occur. Tell that to the families of those who died last week or to the families who are marking the anniversaries of the loss of loved ones.
There is no amount of human resilience that will overcome all this, unless that resilience is credited to the scientists and researchers struggling to get the upper hand against disease.
Yeah, it's just another manic MetsMonday.