Why ever not? Don’t my friends deserve to know that something major is going on with me? Shouldn’t most folks know that if I’m cranky or crabby or distracted or weepy or simply needing (a lot) more help for a while, that if I skip obligations or fail at keeping promises, that there’s very good reason and it has *nothing* to do with them?
There’s no shame in this, any more than there is in having the flu. For nine bloody months, if I’m *very* lucky.
And I’m going to need help, and lots of it; I’m going to be crabby and cranky and a terrible patient, because I always *am*; I’m going to be weepy and distracted; I’m not going to be able to do half of what I’d planned to do this year; I’m going to forget important things that I should remember; I’m going to forget my manners; and for as long as this goes on, I’m going to be hideously self centered. I’m going to be on drugs.
Take the worse case of ManFlu ever, and I might match it.*
There’s a reason for it. Trust me, this is not the reality I want, this is not who I want to be, and breast cancer is not the sole defining facet of who I am – but for the next period of time, it will be the defining factor in my life. There’s no point in keeping that a secret.
The more people in my life who know, the more support I’m likely to garner – and can I just say, people have almost uniformly been amazing so far – and the easier it will be for everyone.
And let me apologize in advance for my behavior in the months ahead, because I *know* I’m going to need to; let me thank you in advance for putting up with me, and for helping me out even when I’m being ridiculous and frustrating and whiny and needy beyond belief. For dealing with this with me, and helping me deal with it on my own terms as much as possible. It’s a mitzvah…. just think of the brownie points you’re earning!
And you are all beloved in my life.
*let’s hope NOT!