Had a dark night of the soul a couple nights ago. I found an online oral cancer "support group" that scared the bejeezus out of me. First were the statistics: 85% survival for one year, 59% survival for 5 years, 47% survival for 10 years. After I digested this, well, then I got onto a chat thread. The personal stories were even scarier.
So that night I got into bed and laid there feeling like it had finally sunk in that I have Cancer. Actual cancer. A disease whose treatment hasn't changed much since the turn of the last century, cutting out the bad parts and applying radiation. And I started thinking over all I've done and not done. I can't say I don't have regrets. I have plenty. But lying in bed trying to rewrite your life doesn't make for falling asleep. After a few hours, I got up and went into the living room.
My husband likes to sleep on the couch with the light and the TV on, neither of which I can tolerate, needing darkness and silence to even begin to relax enough to go to sleep. Not surprising, he was awake, so I had someone to unburden myself to. My mom's been visiting, but she was asleep, and I don't want to stress her out any more than she already is. So I shared my fear and got some comfort, which was good. Also a bit surprising, because he has never been able to relate to my chronic depression, and his usual advice to any fear I have is "don't think about it." This time he surpassed himself, and after we'd talked for a bit I was able to go and sleep.