It’s coming to an end.

For the past couple of weeks I’ve been having cancer dreams.  Not exactly sure why, I really do feel indifferent about my soon-to-be life after cancer.  Although it is a big deal to some, there are support groups just for those who need help coping with the fact that cancer is over.  Yes, it sounds very strange, something you’ll never understand until (A) you have cancer and (B) you win.  Let’s hope A never happens to you.  But if it does, I sure do hope you get to B.  

Last week I had a dream that my cancer came back.  I was in a different hospital with beds lined up in a row in what could have also been an airport terminal.  My friends were there, but too far away and they didn’t have time to visit.  My sister was there, but kept leaving me.  I made friends in beds nearby, but after time they all stopped talking to me.  The doctors who were doing my testing couldn’t look me in the eye because it was such bad news and they didn’t want to have to tell me.  Then the guy a few beds down from me had his legs amputated and his bandages were bleeding through.  The woman next to him yelled at me for complaining when I looked totally fine and that guy was bleeding.  The dream ended with me crying all alone in my hospital bed.  HOW HORRIBLE!!

In another dream from earlier this week I was going through testing again but I didn’t need it because I already knew it was back.  All the patients around me were standing with their poles wearing long colorful gowns, sad for me.  But I was cheery and continued to reassure them that it was all going to be okay. 

In last night's dream my friends were all in a party house attached to a cancer wing.  I was sneaking back and forth between the party area and the cancer wing.  The party house was designed with wood texture, filled with tons of people, trendy furniture, and a rooftop party that never ended.  The people in the house continued to remind me I needed to take it easy and rest.  The cancer wing was a very pale cream, blue, and yellow overloaded with cancer patients.  They were all much older than me and looked much sicker.  I was the youngest one there.  They nurses were complaining that they were understaffed and needed more help.  Every minute another patient died from a stroke so I was going from room to room helping the nurses.  I had cancer, too, but since I was alone and looked healthy they were going to wait to treat me.

I’m not sure what’s up with my subconscious?!  There have been too many all similar to these lately.  I do know for sure that I’m looking forward to being done with ANNOYING side effects and regaining my energy.  I’ll figure out what my brain is trying to tell me once I’m really said and done with treatment and my post-treatment tests.  I do my first set of scans 6 weeks after my last treatment.  It sure will be the best Christmas present a girl can ask for!