I am also someone who didn't go through her breast cancer (inflammatory)experience with the most grace. In my case, I know what was at work--and I knew it then. But then I knew what was going on just a tiny, little bit. Today, I understand much more fully.
You have my sympathy, Barbara...not my judgment.
Suzn, I am awed at how long you have been aboard the mets train. Your feeling that there is nothing to celebrate in all this says volumes about what it means to have a cancer diagnosis...and what it means to survive one, whether with active disease or in remission.
I feel very conflicted about it all. I think I would feel less conflicted if everyone from my oncologist to the stranger on the street realized that if your treatments were very intensive, there may well be no "after" with cancer. That is, no "after" that enables you to resume the life you once knew.
It comes down to "I don't want to die. It's not that I want to ...
OMG. Yes many times over...or as my 5-year-old grandson says, "fifty eighty percent dollars!" That is one of the biggest numbers he can think of!
This fatigue feels like you are wearing a scuba diving suit that is made not of neoprene but of hundreds of thin, thin sheets of lead as thin as filo dough. Hundreds of sheets of lead, layered on top of one another, hugging your body like a scuba diving suit.
They tell you that exercise will cure the fatigue...but it doesn't. And sometimes it makes it much, MUCH worse.
So they tell you you're trying to exercise too much, or not the right way, or too often, or.... They tell you to respect your body's limits. ...