To cry or not to cry

Today I went and got a pedicure (the first since December 2010), and they knew I'd been sick. Apparently, one of their customers (who is a lady who would attend my Group Exercise classes), told them about my diagnosis. Hugs all around, questions, are you alright? You look good ...

But, I was asked something no one else has.

The question was "Did I cry alot?" No, in the very beginning I had a few minutes of "why me??? I've been doing everything 'right.' I don't smoke, I exercise ... " you get the picture.

So, yes, it did make me cry, but, only for a few minutes. Crying about it doesn't help, mindset does. I decided after taking my "why me" minutes to remind myself that there are people worse off than myself and if they can do it. So can I and it's going to be cake.

Guess what? It has been cake (alright, a few aches and pains, but, nothing compared to what other people have to go through).

My friend Sharons daughter Fiona, spent 4 years fighting her stage 4 diagnosis. She passed in April/May. Fiona is still my hero. Fiona apparently would ask about me and ask about how my husband was handling my diagnosis. He handled my diagnosis like anything else, research on what a synovial sarcoma is, research on treatments, asking questions and finally, shaving his head. 

Shaving his head made me cry.

Update - I now know why Fiona was so concerned about how my husband was behaving. Turns out her jack-ass of a hubby was having an affair while she was in and out of the hospital, in hospice and eventually married the wench (from what I understand, not too long after Fiona passed away). Apparently the new wife wants the kids to call her Mom. Rebekka says, you're not Mom. Good girl Rebekka.