Have you ever had one of those frustrating dreams where you can’t interact with the world around you? Your voice is drowned out or muffled; your frantic waving is invisible. Riding on the cancer rollercoaster is freakishly similar. But in this reality it is like living in a bubble or a snow globe. People can call in, visit and pass by your wee sphere but the bubble is always around you, sometimes it may burst with the distraction of normal life or with spikes of laughter and love but it reforms just as quickly as it pops.
It has a shadow that lingers always.
For me the majority of my time is spent in my bubble, in fact I’m not sure I really made it out of the brain tumour bubble, Bubble V1.0!
It’s made of nausea and pain, exhaustion and fatigue. Thinking too much of the future, or not enough; juggling the medications and appointments, whirling thoughts about if I have given Ruby the guidance she will need if she has to go on without a mum, knowing this storm is nowhere near finished... hospital rooms, blood tests, surgery to still come, fried veins and pain, always pain.
That’s what my bubble is made of.
But bubbles have a trick to them. Eventually they do burst, a bubble cannot last forever. Even the bestest bubbles that seem so enduring and tough have a terminus.
It would be easy for us to let our bubbles suffocate us, to recoil and withdraw into our misery would be a pretty easy thing to do and there is no shame in hunkering down for a bit. Just a bit though.
These last five days have been particularly bubbly for me. I’d say it’s the most bubbly I have been! In the most non-traditionally bubbly way if you get my gist.
I have been a miserable, grumpy cow, that’s okay because we are allowed to be that way sometimes. I’ve let my bubble walls get fairly thick but there have been wee pin pricks of light get through. It’s been a painful five days, my arm is quickly turning into an ugly version of the Milky Way and food and liquid simply do not want to stay where they should.
If you think just a quick text or message is futile or not enough you’d be wrong. The smallest things can pop a bad bubble for a bit.
Please DO share pictures and stories from life outside the sphere, these things make me smile. I love to know there is a normalcy waiting. DON’T hesitate to share your day with me, tell me about the crappy day you had at work or your snotty cold. I want to hear that your kid lost the plot and impersonated that creepy girl from The Exorcist!
Please remember my illness does NOT invalidate what you are going through or the importance of it. My cancer does not make me the automatic winner in a weird game of “who has it the shittest”! All of our experiences matter and are relative.
To those gorgeous souls I know who are stuck in their own bubble at the moment, medical or other please know my bubble is bouncing about too and you are not alone.
I can see your bubble.