A recently had to explain to a colleague that I didn't know very well why there was going to be missing time this summer. I am planning a 'bucket list' vacation with my family and the comment I received back was "Well, I would like to take a vacation too. Not a good enough reason."
That led to the explanation that I have been avoiding for two years. My real prognosis. The lack of survival of anyone with the same metastasis beyond five years. Really only one person who has been named cured -- and they didn't have any metastasis. Also the real lack of options now that I do not have any real lung left to remove. Yup, bleak at best.
All week I have been in a funk. My mind keeps going back to that conversation. I couldn't understand why. I have come to terms with it. Why the big deal?
My daughter was the one who came up with the explanation. By naming it to a relative stranger, I was naming it myself. I was forced to face it again. After so many months of only looking forward.
Now I am forcing myself to be consciously change my mind every time I think of that conversation.
Out of the mouths of babes.