Fine.

     Most of the time, I am fine. But lately, it's difficult to attempt to put into words what this life truly is  like in this 2nd battle with the devil. I can't finish any of my blog drafts, and most weeks, I don't even want to write about anything. I run, I work, and I go to MGH cancer appointments. I am barely surviving wholly. I am numb and frankly some days I think that's the only way I can get through a day. It's never without a few tears though. Some days tears from physical pain & fatigue...others out of pure loneliness. 

    Fighting the fight is god damn lonely. It's excruciatingly difficult to wear the brave face each and every day. I don't want to burden anyone so I keep marching on. Acting like everything is fine...like I am fine...like it's all going to be fine. It's easier to be fine. Numb to the reality of this current life of metastatic cancer. Numb to the unknown of what's next on the list in the fight for my life. Numb to the statistics. I've always hated fucking math...I've never hated it more than I do now. 

    And now some days,  I find myself gravitating towards being alone even though feeling lonely is the worst feeling ever in the world. This I know. But I've found more recently, I feel more alone than ever when I am in a crowd surrounded by people seemingly happy & living their life. The world continues to move at full speed...people laughing & making plans...shopping for clothes they'll wear on upcoming dates, vacations and whatever else might come their way. Making future plans for vacations, trips, concerts...and I feel like the elephant in the room. I can't even participate like a normal person. I am numb. I am just trying to make it through today without completely breaking. At least if I'm by myself, I don't have to act like I'm not in pain, I don't have to act like I am fine...I can just be.

  Tonight I head to the store, buy myself a shrimp cocktail for 1, some goat cheese & gluten free crackers and a bottle of the best bold, dark red wine I can afford...I come down to the basement where I wrote my very first cancer blog when I was first diagnosed with stage 3 metastatic cancer 9 1/2 years ago. I allow myself this time to un-numb for just a little bit. I feel all the emotions I've been holding back the past 548 days since the reoccurrence. Ironically, listening to my sad fuck cancer playlist and sitting at my laptop writing this depressing as all hell piece, I feel less alone...even if just for just a moment. I almost feel at peace. 

    I will try to finish some other sad drafts and then head upstairs to watch a movie I probably have seen a million times because I like fluffy, predictable rom-coms. That will ease my mind and I'll numb up from allowing myself to feel anymore. I'll put this cancer life to bed for the night...because I am fine.

    Tomorrow will be a new day. I'll do the same thing I have done just about every single day the past two years. I'll get up, check to make sure my shop is open on the camera app and then, do my usual morning routine to prep me for a run. I'll turn my sad ass playlist on and head out. I'll probably post a "Fuck cancer Friday" picture of me fighting the good fight...and when I get back, I'll carry on. On my list for tomorrow, is some office & marketing work for my shop since I don't have to report to MGH for treatment. In between sending emails & what not, I will manage my next MGH appointments and my upcoming surgery. Someone in my family will probably need something, have a crisis, need a vent or need some $, & I'll take care of that as well. The day will pass quickly, and I'll know when evening is close because the level of physical pain will start to creep in like clock work. 

I am no longer numb once again. But morning will come soon...I'll feel a little bit better and be a little bit refreshed from this endless cycle.

I will start the day as I always do and...

Just like that, I am fine....everything's fine. I am always fine.