I just went back to the beginning of my blog with the intention of reading just the first entry, but I actually read through all the ones I wrote from April-July. While it was not nearly as weird (and thankfully way less awkward) as reading a livejournal entry I wrote in 10th grade, it was a trip to read that first entry. I don't know whether things have already shifted in my memory or whether my mind is more focused on the future than the past right now or what, but I'm already recalling things differently in my mind than how they apparently happened according to my blog. Not big things. Like, I didn't forget I froze eggs (one does not easily forget three weeks of daily internal sonograms), but I forgot that I had asked my nurse if I could name the eggs they extracted when I was all doped up on anesthesia. I didn't forget my surgeon put on the Beatles when he was installing my port, but I wouldn't have remembered that "Eleanor Rigby" came on first. Or that we had ice cream cake on my birthday, the day before I was diagnosed. Just details like that. It's nice to have them tucked away in here.
But I do feel so...estranged from the person who wrote that first entry. I had the strangest sensation that I was reading a stranger's story. Maybe it's because I'm in just such a different place now. When I read how I stayed in my bed all day after learning chemo would take up to 8 months...I just kind of pitied that girl. She was so ill-equipped to get up and deal with reality that she just slept and cried. She was kind of pathetic.
I like how I process information now. I like who I am more now.
So note to my future self: No matter the results of your PET scan on Wednesday, but especially if you do have to do more chemo, remember how you feel right now compared to then--equipped and able. Like you have a baseball bat in your hands instead of a twig.
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