For the past two weeks I’ve waited to be accepted into The Fight Club, where I thought I would connect with people and learn how they’re doing with the same booboo. Not once did it occur to me that it would be about death, near death or dying. Seriously, I thought it would be connecting with others, talking about their feelings on the shituation and maybe making a new friend.
Regardless, I was accepted into the group two days ago. Now I may be exaggerating a little- there are some posts that talk about cancerversaries and doing well- but of what I have seen so far, is Pandora’s Box.
For example, I saw the post that welcomed the eager or dying to get into the group sickos like myself- that was nice. Got a little, welcome; felt the love! But I also noticed that the last post posted was several weeks ago… so, I did my due diligence and started to become acquainted with the members and their thoughts.
*Now, my mother- who was welcomed two weeks ago, noticed I did a shout out post about going out and shopping- yay or nay? and mentioned that I may not want to be in the group. After all, not all cancers are the same and even though this club is for the 1% of the population with this mutation, we each respond differently to medication so…. essentially, it’s a “buyer beware” FB group.
Don’t get me wrong- I saw the posts that said goodbye to so and so who put up a good fight… as well as the posts where the cancer is still there and now its the side effects that could kill them (me). .
..So, after several hours of contemplating the pros and cons, I decided to ease in this black hole. Slowly I would read one post…. sift through the comments… and then consciously decide to go on or leave on a happy-ish note.
All I can say is this: it is akin to either….
Waiting in line for a roller coaster ride- surrounded by people with all sorts of feelings about said ride…. and deciding at that moment when the car comes, whether to go or not. …Or, go again, or not- especially knowing the risk factor.
Walking through an abandoned castle in the middle of the forest, and waiting for the ghosts to pop out… only, you’re not sure when they’ll pop out but you know they’re there.
Playing Jenga and you’re the last person left in the game, but you decide to try to remove a piece of the puzzle from the bottom…. and the first few times there’s no crash…. but you know it’s coming.
So… I’m feeling pretty good thus far, for tonight, the only scary thing I learned is – once the cancer is gone, you still have to be on the pills or it will Jack in the Box on back… mets- must stand for metastasized and the only time that was mentioned was in reference to drug I’m on and the brain…. (and my oncologist may have mentioned that several times before I was able to Escape the Room) and the weight gain is real.