My Inner Warrior is Wilting

It's been over 2 days since I received the call that I have cancer? had cancer? (I'm not even sure what verb tense to use) got the news.  You'd think a call like that would send one into an instant tail spin.  Nope.  Perhaps I am a slow learner, but I went a full 52 hours (probably at least 47 of those awake hours) before I let any real tears fall.  That's got to be some sort of record, right?!  Let me tell you my secret:

1. Oxycodone.  It has a way of making most things a lot more tolerable.  Tissue expander pain, cancer diagnosis phone calls, Richard watching yet another Sasquatch show ~ all these excruciating things just don't seem quite as bad when you buzzed just enough that you can't completely see straight and feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  
2. Estrogen.  It's kind of like a happy pill.  It doesn't really make you happy, but it makes you stable.  I'm typically a really happy person, so stability is good.  No highs, no lows, just hormonal homeostasis.  
3. Utter exhaustion.  When you aren't sleeping and aren't eating, you don't have the energy to waste on frivolous things like crying, being angry, brushing your teeth or thinking about how shitty some news might be.  You just exist counting down the hours until your next pain pill.  

So, if you can keep that routine up (and more power to you if you can), who knows how long you can be numb and perceived as strong/brave/amazing/f'n awesome/a warrior.  In the last 2 days, I have been called all of those.  You are basically emotionally unstoppable.  To be honest, it isn't a horrible head space to be in.  While all the above words feel good, perhaps a more accurate description would have been 'oblivious'.  

The problem comes when you have to alter the above cocktail:

1. While still in pain from the expanders, I was now getting to the point where the pain wouldn't completely stop me in my tracks.  I was able to get in and out of bed without assistance.  I could take a deep breath without wincing.  And then I start thinking about the consequences if I don't wean myself off the oxycodone.  You may be thinking about addiction issues, but I'm thinking of something much bigger ~ constipation.  
2. When I got the cancer call, I was advised to immediately stop taking my estrogen.  If the cancer is estrogen fed (and from what I heard in my fugue state an estrogen fed cancer is actually preferred to some other forms of cancer) taking hormones are sort of like adding gasoline to a fire.  Even in my slightly high state, I knew that didn't sound like a very good idea.  
3. I'm still exhausted, but not quite exhausted enough.  It seems that I have slept just enough and eaten just enough to start feeling something other than tired, yet not enough to regulate any irrational thoughts.  So, I now have just enough energy to throw myself off of an emotional cliff, but none of the energy it takes to pull myself back together.  

As you can guess it's been a bit of a struggle  complete clusterfuck in the making in my head this evening.  I don't know exactly what is happening, but I've come to terms with whatever it is, it 1. sucks and 2. it is okay.  

It feels like my inner warrior is wilting.