One of my sister (I have 5 and 2 brothers) thought I should put more details in my blog - the nitty gritty. I have to say I don't have a lot to add as far as that goes. I think our fear of the unknown temps us into getting as much information as we possibly can about that unknown. The fear I had before diagnosis and right after diagnosis was significantly worse than the actual (so far anyway). Imagine having the flu with the nausea and aches - that is about as bad as it gets. The emotional element could easily do a number on you though. I can completely see someone falling down a pity party hole that is so deep it would be hard to climb out of.
Six months ago my life was perfect - I thought. I was at the top of my game. I had a job I couldn't wait to go to, I was in the best shape of my life, I had beautiful long blond hair (thanks to Todd, my hairdresser), my family was healthy and we were all getting along and I had great friends. I had a lot to lose. A long way to fall. And I could have fallen - but I didn't. Instead I am sitting at my computer finding out more about myself than I could have imagined. I have a better relationship with my husband than I ever thought possible. I am 10 pounds heavier, my skin breaks out every 3 weeks and I have menopause symptoms, I don't have any hair and exercise is something I am dreaming about doing. From the outside looking in it may seem like I should feel sorry for myself but I don't. I have an entirely new perspective on life and faith.
I think we can all make the best of our situations. When we are handed a challenge - be it illness or loss - the challenge is finding the good in it. I think it is OK to grieve and acknowledge the people or things about your life that you will miss but what is the point of feeling sorry for yourself. Where do you go from there?