Pride

I am constantly asking myself whether I conduct myself in a manner in which I can be proud of. It’s a question I asked myself before I had myeloma, but I have experienced, with myeloma, there are many more occasions where there is the possibility of me acting like a big old twit.

On the whole, I think I have handled My Myeloma pretty well and I hope that I will continue to do so. Though, in a world where everything is exaggerated, so too are my actions and this gives me reason to think. Every time I have an uncontrollable crying session, like yesterday when I was told that my treatment may be delayed, I am ashamed. I’m ashamed that I could not be stronger and hide my fears, weakness and disappointment. I am not proud when I argue with my friends. I could always handle a situation better, but it’s a struggle when my mind is all over the place. I can find no pride in the times I have lost my temper with the daycare nurses for delays with my treatment, accept at NHNN, they deserved my wrath.

The thing is, if I want things to be normal and my life to continue, I’m going to make mistakes and questionable decisions. I am going to upset people and I am going to upset myself. Although I would like it to, cancer does not make me invisible. Even superheroes are flawed. I know this because I have seen the movies.

That said, there are many daily things that I do find pride in. During PADIMAC, any poo was worthy of a photo. On Saturday, I used the Hoover. And today? Well, thus far, I am so proud of myself that I was able to produce more than three litres of piss in the last 24 hours. I filled a bottle.

My self worth ain’t going anywhere. Hear that Fake Menopause?

EJB x

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One thought on “Pride

  1. Hi EJ, I don’t normally comment on any blogs although I read most of them, but this struck a chord. Cyclophosphamide, dexamethasone, thalidomide – which is the trio of goodies I had, really do affect you like that. And you know you’re taking out your own frustrations and fears on the people that are probably dearest to you, but you just can’t help that. They are powerful drugs and friends and family will find it hard but that’s not for you to worry about – in a sense that’s for them to worry about. Yours is to cope in any way you can. I’m now two years in complete remission after the transplant (3 since diagnosis) and hanging on in there whilst it lasts. I’m sure you’ll be the same…and the true friends will understand and continue to be there for you.
    Take it easy.. Steve

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