I was warned that there is a post-treatment malady. That it's psychological not physical, but nonetheless prevalent. I've head it called "The Void" and I think that's a pretty accurate description.
When all the treatments are over and you are no longer talking to your doctors and nurses every week there is this void. I spent all my time and energy fighting - fighting cancer, fighting chemo side effects - and now I wake up every day, still feeling a bit crappy from lingering chemo in my body, and I think. I think about whether we've done enough to fight the cancer, I think about my job (Is it really what I want to do? If not, what do I want to do next?), I think about my now completely depleted savings account (which usually brings me back to my job), I think about my relationships and where I live and how I live and if I've made the right decisions with my life....
And through it all there is a sadness. I can't really explain what the cause is, but I feel like I've lost something. Some sort of innocence or naivete. I look at the photo I have posted on my blog and I feel like I'm looking at a photo of someone else. Someone who hasn't gone to war. Perhaps we should bring cancer survivors and soldiers returning from Iraq together. I bet we'd have a lot to teach each other and a lot to share.
I now know the power of my strength as well as the depth of my despair. It's all yin and yang - I experienced both extremes. The point is, maybe I didn't want to know. But I didn't choose and I can't go back.
All I can hope for is that the Emerald City is up there ahead. And that these stupid flying monkeys leave me alone. The only thing worse that evil, trained monkeys are evil, trained monkeys with wings.