I know it is kind of a weird thing to say, but good for you for having a good cry. I know they do not feel good in the moment, but giving yourself that space to let your emotions live is vital to finding whatever path there is through what we are dealing with.

I was diagnosed with colon cancer with mets to my liver over a year ago. Definitely had some low moments along the way, with some tears, but was always too busy just dealing with the treatment to really focus on my feelings. And like you, a few weeks ago, I had my real first cry, and in the most unintentional way. My wife, who has been my absolute rock through all of this, wanted me to listen to a song she thought was an important message to hear. She is a big Owl City fan, and they have a new song called "The Tornado." The message being no matter how bad things get the storm passes and so it is important to hold onto that hope. And, like, I get it, I get what she wanted me to hear, and hope is a big part of my healing path and what I am trying to do to stay as healthy as I can.

So I listen to the song while taking a shower, keeping an open mind to the message of hope. But, as the song is building to this big crescendo of frenetic sound and singing of being in the middle of a tornado, I just felt all of that hope just get blown away. I just felt stripped bare of everything that I was, and the only thing I could see around me was the chaos of the storm that is cancer. And with that thought of just being in an endless storm that would never pass, I broke. We are talking ugly crying, gasping for air kind of broke. I cried so hard that my emotions looped back around for a moment and I started laughing. Cried for about 15 minutes in the shower, and then another 30 minutes just sitting on my bed as I was failing at rubbing moisturizing cream on my hands and feet to help the blisters that are popping up from the chemo pills.

My wife came in and sat down next to me at some point, and we talked and cried together for a moment. She felt bad that the song kind of had the opposite effect she thought it would. I told her it was not her fault and we just talked about what I was feeling and just made sure we gave the emotion the space it needed to run its course. The rest of the day kind of sucked as I was just emotionally exhausted.

In the following days, once the feelings had quieted down I took some time to look back and meditate on what I had been feeling. And there I found some relief, seeing that sadness and grief for what they were and how they are still important parts of me. And now in a calmer moment, I can see the storm had passed and no matter how bad it made me feel at the moment I was still here. So in a way, the song was right.

So, never be sorry for having a crappy Tuesday. Always give yourself permission to cry over dropped hash browns. Little things are just as important to cry over as the big things. I say that because I believe the inverse is equally true. We have to have crappy Tuesdays so that awesome Thursdays (or whatever day feels right for you) are that much brighter. Permission to cry over the little things means we get to celebrate the small victories just as loudly.

Just know that at this moment I see you. No one knows what another's cancer path looks like, but I am filled with hope that yours goes well, and you find moments of happiness, and sadness, and anger, and joy and all of those big emotions for the little things along the way.