Renee Sendelbach I often toe the line while writing for my blog. I give y’all a glimpse into my world, but I don’t
ever fully open the door for the outside world to see in to me.
But, I think I have to.
I think I have to 100% swing the door wide open if I am truly hoping for
others to understand where I and so many others actually do stand. To help you
understand how it feels to be in my shoes.
If you ask me how I am and I tell the truth, I usually get a
look of panic from the other person. A
look of oh shit, what did I just open and how long do I have to listen before I
can exit stage right??
OR I see the look of complete sadness on your face for me
and then I put it in reverse to make you feel better, to make you more hopeful for me, to make you
believe I am being positive enough about my situation.
I realized this after spending some long need quality time
with a great friend. A friend who gets it. A friend who lets me open up all my stuck
windows and air out my house. A friend
who doesn’t look at the trash in my house and tell me if I only did this or
that, I wouldn’t be in the situation I am in.
A friend who accepts what I can and what I can’t do. I can
go over to her house and hang out for long overdue conversations, but I can’t
go out to eat for dinner because no matter how little I did that day I am
exhausted by 6:00 pm. A friend who lets me mourn the loss of the old me without
making me feel guilty for being sad with the new me – a me I am still not used
to although this me has been here almost 2 years.
My new me.
Yes I am very grateful I am still alive after having Stage
IV cancer for 3 years – many women don’t make it this long, but I haven’t fully
been able to accept my new limitations.
My entire right leg is completely numb which makes walking
and driving much more of a challenge. I cringe when someone says I need to get
out and exercise to help myself heal.
They are right, do. But I don’t
want to go alone because I am afraid of falling and I don’t want to go with
anyone because I am so slow I feel bad that I am holding them up.
My right arm kind of free floats a lot of the time and I am
usually not sure where it is unless I hold it down at my side.
I no longer feel comfortable holding any babies.
Getting dressed takes me way too long being as I am just
putting on workout clothes being as nothing else fits me. But no being able to
feel my leg or arm, I have to inch up what I am putting on a tiny bit at a
time.
I cringe when someone says I must be doing so well because
of my positive attitude. I often wonder
how many people in my life would stick around if I did tell the truth all the
time? If I did let this ugly monster out
to roam – just not to Eric…what would you say?
My life is a rollercoaster.
Not a rollercoaster I ever wanted to ride, but I am on it now and I can’t
get off.
Jill summed it up great, she is with me on my roller coaster
– the highs, the lows, the sharp turns, the dark tunnels and boring parts. She understands I can’t just get on and off
this ride when I want to, but for now I stuck here in cancerland.
I guess what I wanting from this post is understanding and
compassion. Understanding that this isn’t
the person I wanted to be and understanding that this is who I am now. Understanding that this person I am now could
change again unbeknown to you in a blink of an eye…by better or worse.
Compassion to me to know I have the best of intentions but
my ability to follow through on all of my intentions is not against you, it is
just me and right now just me is all I can be.
