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(from comments elsewhere)
1. I find I am already inventing hope for myself. I could have what he says I have and I could go into totally spontaneous miraculous remission. I could have what he says I have and medical science could learn what to do with it. I could have something different from what he says I have. On some level I realize this is illogical; what's the name of that river in Egypt? On another level I realize it is essential. Reality-based? Me? Not when I can't afford to be.
2. I deeply value being an independent, self-sufficient person. Nobody tells you, when you get a diagnosis like this, that the hardest part isn't learning how to make all the endless frustrating/painful/expensive/inefficient accommodations in your daily life; the hardest part may not even be giving up about seventy percent of the activities you once loved; the hardest part is convincing yourself that your core values are no longer sustainable and must be jettisoned.
I'm realizing now how unutterably spoiled I have been, to be able to have "being an independent, self-sufficient person" as a deeply-held value. (Perhaps the same could be said of having "not being in denial" as a strong value.) Really, mind-bogglingly spoiled.*
Obviously I'm still working through this in a psychological sense. Perhaps my record of this process can eventually help someone else who is in a similar situation some day. Plus it helps vent my spleen, which is worth a lot.
3. I called my sister the other day, for her birthday. It was a couple hours after my diagnosis. She asked how my feet were and I just said same-same and dropped it. I mean, it was HER birthday, not CJ's whinefestday! But now I feel like I'm hiding something. Maybe I'll send a family e-mail this weekend.
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* Can you imagine? I used to whine about curable things.
1. I find I am already inventing hope for myself. I could have what he says I have and I could go into totally spontaneous miraculous remission. I could have what he says I have and medical science could learn what to do with it. I could have something different from what he says I have. On some level I realize this is illogical; what's the name of that river in Egypt? On another level I realize it is essential. Reality-based? Me? Not when I can't afford to be.
2. I deeply value being an independent, self-sufficient person. Nobody tells you, when you get a diagnosis like this, that the hardest part isn't learning how to make all the endless frustrating/painful/expensive/inefficient accommodations in your daily life; the hardest part may not even be giving up about seventy percent of the activities you once loved; the hardest part is convincing yourself that your core values are no longer sustainable and must be jettisoned.
I'm realizing now how unutterably spoiled I have been, to be able to have "being an independent, self-sufficient person" as a deeply-held value. (Perhaps the same could be said of having "not being in denial" as a strong value.) Really, mind-bogglingly spoiled.*
Obviously I'm still working through this in a psychological sense. Perhaps my record of this process can eventually help someone else who is in a similar situation some day. Plus it helps vent my spleen, which is worth a lot.
3. I called my sister the other day, for her birthday. It was a couple hours after my diagnosis. She asked how my feet were and I just said same-same and dropped it. I mean, it was HER birthday, not CJ's whinefestday! But now I feel like I'm hiding something. Maybe I'll send a family e-mail this weekend.
____________________________________
* Can you imagine? I used to whine about curable things.
Re: Hope is not for sissies...
Yet the salient point is that I have not reached acceptance. Acceptance might be the saner and more efficient goal, but right now I will cling to my hope.
I agree with you that finding the new good bits is a challenge I will absolutely, definitely have to meet. Another challenge is not being snarky to people who are still spoiled and pampered and blind and stupid about it (and lauded by our culture for all of that); justified or not, that's not the kind of person I want to be, enormously tempting though it is right at this moment. I'll learn to find the good bits and I'll learn to treat smug others with decency. It may take a while but I will learn.
Grief is a good way to put it. I'm mourning a death: ME. Now I reinvent the future person who will inhabit this significantly different body and carry my name.
Thanks for the compliment about the phone call with my sister. I felt funny about it, but I also felt it was right. Thanks!
the voice came down saying, "Why not?"
HAHAHAHAHA! That's awful! ...and so true.
Thanks, and hugsback!