The 5 Stages of Grief

They are as follows: 1. Denial 2. Anger 3. Bargaining 4. Depression 5. Acceptance They say that you don't necessarily have to go through them in the order they are listed. That has been true in my case, as depression was definitely stage 1. I will never forget the despondency I felt that weekend after learning that I had cancer. It went hand in hand with being helpless. From February 12th, the day I found the lump, until March 22nd when my surgeon removed my breast, all I could do was sit there and let that cancer grow and feed off my womanly hormones. I made dietary changes to not take in substances to increase estrogen and consume foods that naturally lower estrogen, but other than that, the cancer had the control. How freaking depressing. I guess along with that came stage 3, bargaining. My prayers certainly have a bargaining aspect to them. "Please God let me live a long life, beat this and have it never come back. I promise I will help other women, share my story, try to save others from this disease." I hope He thinks it sounds like a good deal. And then came the final stage, acceptance, at a pretty early inning in this game. Never once was I in denial about what was happening to me, maybe because I knew it always would happen in some way. Creepy story...I have this fleshy mole on the side of my head that's kind of like a big skin tag. I hate it but my hair covers it. But often over the years I would think "I gotta get this removed before I have to do chemo and lose my hair." Seriously, who thinks like that?!

 Anyway, right now I'm in stage 2 in full force. I'm majorly pissed off. And it couldn't come at a better time. I'm past the 5 week period of waiting and being helpless, I'm past the lying unconscious on a table while surgeons sent from God give me the best chance of getting my life back. Now it's time where I get to join the fight. I have a say in my treatment plan and I say go hard, give me the best stuff you've got. And when the poison goes into my veins, I will enjoy it. This poison will make me ill but it will obliterate any stray cancer cells that might have made it past the breast and that one lymph node. This will all be positive. Chemo is not a dirty word. Don't be afraid of it on my behalf. I WANT IT. I WELCOME IT. And please understand that going through chemo is not what it was in the movies in the 1980's. The meds they give you are great these days and plenty of people get away with no nausea and just a bald head and extreme exhaustion. Hopefully that's me, I love naps. And please understand that by me going through chemo does not mean I'm dying of cancer. In the majority of breast cancer patients, the cancer is gone after the surgery. The chemo is the insurance policy to reduce the chance that it will come back. When breast cancer comes back, they usually mean distant recurrance, in the bones, lungs or liver. That is why it's important to hit it hard your first time facing it because the second time might not turn out so well. So right now I consider myself cancer free and everything I go through going forward is just things I'm doing to insure that I live a normal lifespan.

 But damn, I am angry, I am livid. Right at this moment, I hate you cancer. I hate that you will steal 9 months of my life to treatment that will make me feel ill. I hate that you make me question if I will live to an age where I get to meet my grand kids. I hate that you took my breasts (even though I know my next set will be bigger and better), I hate that you will take my hair even more so. And the number one thing I hate about you is how you have interfered in the grieving of my father. I hate that days go by that I don't cry over missing my dad because I'm so preoccupied with my own mortality. How dare you take away the attention that grieving him deserves in my life so that I can grieve over YOU? How dare you!? But now I get to fight. An angry Jenna mixed with intravenious poison is a potent cocktail. Cancer can have 9 months to preoccupy me, bring hardship to my life, but that's it. After that, I'm taking back what is mine. And then, after it's said and done, the hate will be gone. And cancer, I will love you. I will love you for making me realize the small stuff isn't worth sweating, I'll love you for every woman that realizes that if it can happen to me, it can happen to them, and they do a breast exam. Or they ask for a mammogram even though they're "too young for cancer." I will love you for allowing me to help another young woman diagnosed not feel so alone. I will love you for letting me be a source of hope to the newly diagnosed. Lord knows, I have had plenty of those angels in my life. So at this moment, I hate you, and I'll fight you. But then I'll slap your hand, say good game like you do to the losing team, and hopefully never see you again in a rematch.