Day 7: I'm making a difference. See, every journey has it's purpose we just have to wait it out. Even if one life is changed or impacted, our purpose is served. Often the difference is not for ourselves, but for some one on the periphery. Someone you wouldn't even imagine would be impacted. Tears streaming down my face. "Take the boobs, Lord, if it leads to a changed life, a changed heart, a changed medical practice, empathy, a better relationship...". I promise that makes all if this worth it. So many of you have emailed me to keep the posts coming because it's impacting your day. I was simply trying too get the benefit of 100+ psychiatrists without paying the bill. But hey, if it helps you too. Let's go for it!
Ok, so there is my new focus -100% transparency for my own processing, but also because so many of you have contacted me as to how my transparency is helping your own journey. Well, perfect timing ladies, because today of all days, I am a wreck!
Poor Ron and mom had to suffer through it last night. I was a the year old tantrum, an inconsolable 37 year old frustrated female. It was awful on my own account. Don't get me wrong, i fully trust God and his plan, but sometimes the "going through it" just catches up with your emotions. He gives us emotions for a reason, they are very therapeutic, but boy did mine go haywire.
Flash back to yesterday afternoon when I was feeling so great. Great wasn't something I had felt in seven days. Very far from great. So when there was a single flash of feeling decent I latched on to it with a grip of an iron man. I was up and about. I visited with a friend, I took a long walk, I watched my mom vacuum (hey, it took some effort instructing her) and I took in all the sights of the living room. Reminder, I was running low on pain meds so I also spent the day rationing.
Well at about 6:30 all of that came to a very noisy, out of character, unexpected, run as fast as you can, call in the reinforcements screeching halt. And I balled. I yelled. I balled again. I balled some more. They put me to bed where I just collapsed in an emotional pool of slobber. It was awful.....but I think it was needed and over due.
Now in all fairness, let's go back and dissect the moment. My afternoon was great. I hurt, maybe a 4/10 pain, but for all purposes I felt decent. I had not felt decent in a solid week. I found a euphoria. And I think I put every mental penny I had into that euphoria thinking I had won. I had made it through the tough stage. White flags being thrown by all involved. The gold metal was mine. Well let me tell you, Victory is short my friend (or at least premature). I bent over to get in the chair and a shooting pain attacked me. I got up because standing seems to be more comfortable these days and went to help/watch dinner preparations and it was exhausting. I went to go walk in the front yard (my favorite activity these days and what I look forward to from the time I get up) and it was awful humid and hot and my old knee injury was throbbing. I started thinking to today's appt and the euphoria just came crashing down!! I was terrified of the poking, I hyperventilate thinking of taking this surgical vest off to see what is underneath (I've had a glimpse and let me tell you it is the most awful sight that will send you to heaving!!!) I was mentally and physically over having all this pain as my pain control has been suboptimal. I was frustrated beyond measure for not being able to even bathe myself and quite frankly i just needed a reach down into my core for a boo hoo cry. Well, I got it and so did the whole state of NC by the time I was done. Ron gathered me up without batting an eye and took me for my "BATH", if you could call it that. Whet i got in my one inch of water I balled some more (I WON'T go in to detail of how I got stuck in the tub because I couldn't use my arms). He got me up and out and took me to the dining room for emptying my drains (again) where I boo hooed some more. The pain was back full force and a awful timing reminder that this isn't over. Some more crying with my mom about these stupid scars and my fears of this appt and finally topped it off with a big old heart sob on my 14 pillow high throne with all my servants standing in awe. They looked like a deer in headlights. I had officially lost it.
Then..... sleep. One of the best sleeps I remember in seven whole days. I was exhausted. I was spent. I was done.
Fast forward 10 hours. Rise and shine! I'm up and ready for this appt at 1:30. Sort of. Breathe in. Breathe out. Surly i can do this. Please let three be sufficient blood flow to the tissue. Please let them pull the drains. Please let them knock me out BEFORE they pull the drains. Please don't let me see the chest wall when they open the vest. Please let this be the fastest 5 hours I've ever experienced. Please don't let me run into my colleagues in the cancer center. Please let me function like a normal person. Please don't let the Metamucil kick in today.
No worries, I'm 100% ok. Just some anxiety in a few areas. LOL.
Stay tuned.
Ok, so there is my new focus -100% transparency for my own processing, but also because so many of you have contacted me as to how my transparency is helping your own journey. Well, perfect timing ladies, because today of all days, I am a wreck!
Poor Ron and mom had to suffer through it last night. I was a the year old tantrum, an inconsolable 37 year old frustrated female. It was awful on my own account. Don't get me wrong, i fully trust God and his plan, but sometimes the "going through it" just catches up with your emotions. He gives us emotions for a reason, they are very therapeutic, but boy did mine go haywire.
Flash back to yesterday afternoon when I was feeling so great. Great wasn't something I had felt in seven days. Very far from great. So when there was a single flash of feeling decent I latched on to it with a grip of an iron man. I was up and about. I visited with a friend, I took a long walk, I watched my mom vacuum (hey, it took some effort instructing her) and I took in all the sights of the living room. Reminder, I was running low on pain meds so I also spent the day rationing.
Well at about 6:30 all of that came to a very noisy, out of character, unexpected, run as fast as you can, call in the reinforcements screeching halt. And I balled. I yelled. I balled again. I balled some more. They put me to bed where I just collapsed in an emotional pool of slobber. It was awful.....but I think it was needed and over due.
Now in all fairness, let's go back and dissect the moment. My afternoon was great. I hurt, maybe a 4/10 pain, but for all purposes I felt decent. I had not felt decent in a solid week. I found a euphoria. And I think I put every mental penny I had into that euphoria thinking I had won. I had made it through the tough stage. White flags being thrown by all involved. The gold metal was mine. Well let me tell you, Victory is short my friend (or at least premature). I bent over to get in the chair and a shooting pain attacked me. I got up because standing seems to be more comfortable these days and went to help/watch dinner preparations and it was exhausting. I went to go walk in the front yard (my favorite activity these days and what I look forward to from the time I get up) and it was awful humid and hot and my old knee injury was throbbing. I started thinking to today's appt and the euphoria just came crashing down!! I was terrified of the poking, I hyperventilate thinking of taking this surgical vest off to see what is underneath (I've had a glimpse and let me tell you it is the most awful sight that will send you to heaving!!!) I was mentally and physically over having all this pain as my pain control has been suboptimal. I was frustrated beyond measure for not being able to even bathe myself and quite frankly i just needed a reach down into my core for a boo hoo cry. Well, I got it and so did the whole state of NC by the time I was done. Ron gathered me up without batting an eye and took me for my "BATH", if you could call it that. Whet i got in my one inch of water I balled some more (I WON'T go in to detail of how I got stuck in the tub because I couldn't use my arms). He got me up and out and took me to the dining room for emptying my drains (again) where I boo hooed some more. The pain was back full force and a awful timing reminder that this isn't over. Some more crying with my mom about these stupid scars and my fears of this appt and finally topped it off with a big old heart sob on my 14 pillow high throne with all my servants standing in awe. They looked like a deer in headlights. I had officially lost it.
Then..... sleep. One of the best sleeps I remember in seven whole days. I was exhausted. I was spent. I was done.
Fast forward 10 hours. Rise and shine! I'm up and ready for this appt at 1:30. Sort of. Breathe in. Breathe out. Surly i can do this. Please let three be sufficient blood flow to the tissue. Please let them pull the drains. Please let them knock me out BEFORE they pull the drains. Please don't let me see the chest wall when they open the vest. Please let this be the fastest 5 hours I've ever experienced. Please don't let me run into my colleagues in the cancer center. Please let me function like a normal person. Please don't let the Metamucil kick in today.
No worries, I'm 100% ok. Just some anxiety in a few areas. LOL.
Stay tuned.
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