I haven’t really talked a lot about how I feel. Mostly I’m trying to be positive and upbeat for the people that care about me. Honestly thought, I’m scared. I’m scared it’s not contained to one boob. I’m afraid it spread to my lymph nodes. I’m afraid I’m looking at chemo, and surgery, and it’s going to hurt, and I’m going to be less of a person because I’m missing pieces and parts of me. I don’t tell people that, thought. Instead I make jokes about perkier boobs, and funky wigs and how I got this.
I do “got this” and I can deal with whatever life throws me, but I’m still afraid. I don’t want to put my kids through this. They already got stuck with an absentee dad, I don’t want them worrying about me, and picturing their lives without me in it. Am I planning on living forever? No, or course not. I’m going to die some day. We all are. But I certainly didn’t picture my kids having to worry about me having breast cancer and all that crap.
But I am afraid. I have dreams about breast cancer, I think about it all the time. My stupid boob hurts, and I don’t even know if it is hurting for real of it’s a stupid pyschosomatic pain or not.
I didn’t tell all my students, just certain ones. I told my advisory because we’ve been together for 4 years. I like to think we’re pretty close and I felt they deserved to know. I also let my color guard students know only because where I didn’t know what was going on with me, I didn’t know if and when we’d be able to work on routines. News flash, high school kids, my advisory kids not included, don’t care. And it’s also not encouraging better behavior. Now that’s a bummer.