Dreams of Reality

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you may remember me talking about the solace that I find when I sleep. In dreams, I am healthy, never crippled, and able to do things like run and climb steps. Sadly, I've been noticing lately that the cancer is creeping into my subconscious mind and subsequently into my dreams.

Let me preface my dream story with this: I had planned on sharing my journey of losing hair/growing hair with you by photos, but I lost my nerve after most of my hair fell out. The sight is so grotesque that I can't bear to expose it to the world, or risk someone copying it from my site for the sake of public ridicule. It's a painful secret that I keep to myself, hidden under a handkerchief made of fabric from Walmart's $1 bin -- hey, I'm cheap, not chic. My head is so unsightly that I even keep it covered most of the time here at home, in spite of the fact that the covering is hot and uncomfortable.

One night recently, I dreamed that Don and I had traveled with the boys by airplane to some unknown destination. Once there, I realized that my head was uncovered and began frantically searching for my handkerchief to hide the baldness punctuated by ghastly tumors. I found the boys one by one and asked them where Don had gone. They were seated at a long banquet table, eating with gusto from plates heaped full of food. Each of them shrugged nonchalantly at my desperate search for Don and my handkerchief. Finally, I sat down beside Zach and tried to fashion a head covering out of a paper napkin. Then, mercifully, I awoke.

I don't know why the dream bothered me as much as it did. Was it the vulnerability that I felt without the head covering, or something else? Maybe I simply resent the invasion of my illness into the sacred world of my dreams, where I am eternally young and healthy and not living in a twisted, shrunken, disease-ridden body. For whatever reason, the dream shook me up a little.

Anyway, my waking hours have been interesting this week, to say the least. The kids are on spring break, so we have done 4 doctor's appointments, 7 dental appointments, 4 eye exams, and 1 learner's permit. Tomorrow we have 3 more eye exams and my much-dreaded visit to the oncologist. On top of this, I've been struggling for days with a stomach bug complete with vomiting, diarrhea, and terrible headaches. Fun stuff.

Still, I concentrate on finding the happy spots in each day. Years ago, I read a book called "My Sister's Hands", which told the story about a woman whose sister died of cancer. She spent many hours by her sister's bedside, and she would massage her sister's hands or her feet -- anywhere that did not hurt -- to take her mind off of the pain in other parts of her body. Although I certainly did not understand that story like I do now, I learned something from that book: concentrate on the parts of life that do NOT hurt to ease the pain of the other parts. Some days are better than others, of course, but I try to find small joys wherever I can. Rain falling on the roof. Children laughing. Talking to a friend. Eating a cold, fruity popsicle. I find there are usually little pockets of happiness even on the very worst days. Sometimes you just have to dig a little deeper in yourself to find them.

Could someone please pass me a shovel?

:-) Sharon

P.S. -- I will update you tomorrow after my doctor's visit at 11:30 a.m.