A post in which I get a knock back

It was a pretty morning, a Friday, and payday.  That's about as good as it gets on a work day.  I got to work, settled in, and then nipped out to the bank to pick up change for selling tomorrow. 

They have been preparing for a charity yard sale at work all week this week.  I had been paying only passing attention because I was taking my stuff to Anderson this weekend.  One of the women who sits near me has devoted a lot of time to it though.  She's been staying late to price and stuff like that.  Because of this, the donations for the sale are being stored in a room near us.  Every time I passed the room today, I could feel the pull of the junk.  It is just so foreign to my nature to NOT go did through a pile like that.  I was not the only one.  Larney was running sales from her desk all day today as women picked things out during the 'pre-sale viewing' and paid for them.

The company does a lot of charity work, and there's always one cause or another that they are working on.  I didn't realize until I got back from lunch that this event was being given for a specific person; she's a woman who used to work here who has breast cancer.  I found this out rather jarringly when she came in today to review the contributions for the sale, and talk to folks.  She looked terrible.  She's in chemo, and hasn't shaved her head, so she has the crazy chicken hair.  She looked very frail, and was in a wheelchair.  My first inclination was to just leave.  I didn't want to see her.  I didn't want to feel anything.  I felt awkward and very uncomfortable.  I did go down to the mailroom to take some stuff down there.

While I was on the errand, I started castigating myself internally.  If anyone here should be sympathetic it should be me.  If anyone here can come close to understanding how she feels, it's me.  Why am I acting this way?  I wondered.  It was like a curtain of denial and indifference just dropped over me.    By the time I got back upstairs, I had steeled myself.  I had to do something.  I had to say something.  I didn't want to tell her about my cancer, because that used to bug the shit out of me when people did it to me.  (Really?  The fact that you were miserable too is suppose to make me feel better?  What is the purpose of that?)  I actually did speak to her, and tried to offer her some hope.  She is where I was about 6-7 months ago.  They tell her the cancer is gone, but she has to complete the treatments anyway.  So incredibly frustrating because you are so miserable, and they just keep doing this to you even though you seem to be cured.  I was awkward and immediately became tearful.  I hope she realized that I was sincere. 

This takes me to the other thing I've been in denial about.  One of the guys who works at the cancer center, who is really nice, has started a support work for men.  He felt this is important because the Cancer Centers of the Carolinas here does a lot of breast/ovarian/female plumbing cancers, so the demographic is definitely skewed female. He keeps asking me to come and speak, and I keep coming up with reasons not to go.  It's like as soon as I left treatment I just wanted to forget all about it.  I don't want to think about it.  I hate going over there.  I don't want to be a part of the 'survivor community'.  I just don't want anything to do with it.  That's terrifically ignoble.  I had SO much help and support.  I really feel like my friends and family loved me through what was one of the worst times of my life.  And I'm not giving anything back.  It makes me feel selfish and small. 

Even as I was thinking about this and getting upset, Gail noticed I was having a problem and came over to hug me.  Which was lovely of her, but pretty much just underlined what I was thinking. 

After work I got in touch with Miss Kat and Dana and went to see them.  We had kind of tentatively set that up for tonight, because they are leaving in the morning for Kentucky to go see some of Miss Kat's extended family. 

I did talk to them about my guilt thing because it was something I was wrestling with.  Dana of course gave me a pass, because she loves me.  I hope that isn't why I was telling them about it, just to be granted absolution.  Dana says to give myself some time, and that I'll come around eventually.  I hope she's right.