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@hoperivers1437
So having childhood cancer is hard because there’s always a chance you can get cancer later on in life. As of Wednesday I’m waiting for results to tell me if I have cancer again. Sadly I’ve been indifferent. Maybe I’ve been waiting for the day it happens? Idk I’m just confused and ready to know the results.
Dear Diary
I’ve been spiraling lately. I feel like my soul can no longer stay within the cage that is my body. My body internally is at a 1000 while on the outside I’m exhausted beyond words. Every day is a struggle with the heaviness of my chains dragging me down. When’s it going to be my turn? When will I win? Be accomplished? I see my psychiatrist tomorrow and I’m frightened. I vowed that I would NEVER be hospitalized again for my mental health. But I also managed to find a new therapist and that will start soon. I still have hope because I see that little light in the caverns of my darkness. Wish me luck…
Dear Diary,
I would like to share two of my earliest memories. One was when I was a baby and I would walk down the hospital hallway with my social worker. I would walk with my IV pole. It’s a short memory but I was happy.
Another is one night I was sleeping between my parents and I had a dream. In that dream it was so bright and I was in the clouds playing with children angels. We were playing on a slide made of clouds. I remember clearly that I was giggling in my sleep and it was peaceful. In college my instructor in dreams and interpretations psychology class helped me realize I was experiencing a survivors dream that I was healing. I’m not sure how accurate that is but it’s nice to think about.
Dear Diary,
Let me tell you a little bit about how my trauma has stayed with me after all these years. After my remission I would have to frequently see the doctor to check on the health of my remaining eye. I dreaded every appointment I ever went to as a little girl. On the drive I would get butterflies in my stomach, silently cry, and beg not to go the entire way there. The most heartbreaking part for me now as I look back would be when I would be taken back to the room and I would be held down by multiple nurses to place the drops in my eye. I would scream out in terror the entire time fighting off the nurses trying to keep me still. The drops would burn me and I couldn’t understand why this had to happen to me. My mom would try to talk to me in attempt to calm me but it never worked. At a young age I felt betrayed by not only the doctors/ nurses that were supposed to help me but also my family for letting it happen to me. For the longest time I associated ALL doctors with fear and pain. I didn’t understand…
As an adult I can’t stand having anyone touch my shoulders. I start to have panic attacks and I feel that little girl inside myself again. I also have a hair phobia which is weird but I guess it makes sense after speaking with a therapist. I don’t like the feel of loose hair, wet hair, or anything having to do with hair that isn’t attached to my head. I know, it’s weird but I lost my hair very young with my chemo treatment and the experience is deeply rooted in me. I can’t even clean out my own hair brush without being triggered. Luckily I have loved one’s that are willing to do that for me.
So I guess my point to this entry is to express how I hate when people say “They’re children they won’t remember.” There are things that stay with us forever and that’s fine we learn and we grow. For me I have physical and emotional scars from surviving my childhood cancer. A lot of things weren’t addressed growing up like my mental health. I believe that I was experiencing depression at an extremely young age and it was never treated until my early twenties. I was always told what my cancer was, my treatments, my disability but it was never actually explained to me. I would repeat it back like a parrot my whole childhood but I didn’t know what it actually meant. I didn’t know that I was different until kindergarten when I was bullied for my slight facial deformity. It was devastating.
Anyway, I could ramble on but I hope this makes sense. If it doesn’t, well it does to me.
Dear Diary,
Growing up I would constantly get sick and my doctor’s would treat my symptoms but never found the root of the problem. My early twenties brought up a lot of changes for me and it was extremely overwhelming. i was diagnosed wirh type II diabetes, hypothyroidism, GAD, bipolar djsorder II, and chronic migraines.
As a child I was borderline diabetic but was able to get better and get it under control for years. My hypothyroidism was found when i felt nodules on my thyroids. GAD and my bipolar diagnosis was discovered when my primary said i was depressed and prescribed me zoloft unsupervised for over a year. i was getting worse and went to see a psychiatrist after desperation. Later on that year I attempted suicide by running to oncoming traffic. Fortunately for me my coworker was able to catch me and dragged me to his car for safety. That night I was numb and my family djdnt even notice; I never told them. Months later i had an episode before driving back to college that landed me in the psych ward. That was the lowest point of my life and I vowed I would never go back.
My migraines story isnt as dramatic but it was an issue I was dealing with my entire life. My pediatrician said they were just headaches because of my thick long hair. i would have sensitivity to light, sounds, and smells. I would always vomit for hours and I would always feel weak afterwords. As an adult the severity of those symptoms increased and would last days. Now when I get them I usually need to be hospitalized for the pain cocktail, nausea medicine, and fluids because of dehydration. i see a neurologist now and can only take medication for it through a nasal spray and dissolvable tablet.
This is just the beginning…
Dear Diary,
I’m in my thirties with a medical history longer than most. It was before my third birthday that I had to have surgery to remove my eye because my cancer was spreading. My chemo, radiation plaque, and cryotherapy saved my life but at a cost. All these years after my remission at five I have faced many long term side effects. I think I’m ready to open up about my experiences; this is my story.
