So I’ve posted here not long ago about how I’ve struggled with several tumors in my brain, head, neck, and face. I came to terms with having to lose one of my eyes to eliminate a good portion of them, and had been hoping for a while that a prosthetic would be my best option at a chance for a relatively normal life; was told that at this point this is no longer a viable option, which was incredibly disheartening and disappointing to hear.
I don’t experience a chronic problem like that and I can’t even imagine how that feels. But if I understand, you were looking forward to this prosthesis being a positive(!) solution to your medical issues and then that option was taken away from you? That sounds more frustrating than I can express in words.
Was also discussed that other surgical procedures could result in permanent facial nerve paralysis (much like a stroke victim); I have always prided myself on my ability to speak intelligibly and articulately, so this was also something that was not easy to hear.
Even though I’m sure you know, rationally, that outcome is not guaranteed, it’s still extremely scary to hear a doctor describe the worst-case-scenario side effects for a medical procedure. They legally have to tell us and I appreciate that they do, but it doesn’t stop me from spinning out mentally, imagining trying to live with paralysis or a missing limb, or… hang on I was just supposed to get a flu shot, what am I worried about?
Oh and then get this, having lunch with my parents and my dad decides it’s a good time to tell me he has blood cancer! He and Mom tell me not to worry and that doctors have it under control, which I’m thankful for but how am I supposed to not worry???
My parents called me an hour before I was supposed to go on stage to tell me they’d been in a car accident. “Car’s wrecked, but we’re fine. Our necks hurt bad but it’s probably just whiplash. Don’t worry about it.” I wanted to say, but couldn’t at the time because my head was spinning so much: “Don’t worry? How can I not worry? All I can imagine is both of you getting smashed to bits in the car, or bleeding out at home from an internal injury because neither of you are going to the hospital to get checked out! How do I NOT worry?!” Those magic words “don’t worry about it” are only helpful to the one saying them, in my opinion.
I want to be strong for my dad, but I feel like my own world is shrinking around me and I don’t know who to turn to. Some of my best friends are family and I don’t want to burden them with worrying about all this as well. It feels like whatever little hope I was clinging to is slipping away.
I know that feeling of not wanting to burden someone. I didn’t want to tell my friends that I felt so alone and unlovable because the feelings were really strong and I didn’t want to scare them. I also didn’t want to make any of them feel like they had to fix me, or that they were my only means of survival. When it got so bad that I couldn’t stand it any more, I explained everything to one of my close friends and he didn’t run away. He tried to make me feel better. I kept opening up to people, and eventually (after a year or two) I started to get a sense of what other people were comfortable hearing, and only confided in them as much as I thought they could take. The rest I take up with a mental health professional. The last thing I’ll say is that if any of my friends were struggling the way that you are, I would be glad to sit and listen to their story, because I love my friends and want them to feel like they’re not alone.