September 23, 2015 - Dangledorfamoly!

There is something about having breast surgery that correlates with an upcoming wedding. It's inevitable. Sally gets an imposter (my nickname for my implants) placed/replaced and within 6 weeks she will need to attend a wedding. This is the 3rd time. Mastectomy and reconstruction #1...Kristi and Jason have a wedding. Cellulitis with implant out and back in....4 weeks later Marc and Amber have a wedding. Now, scar tissue removal and implant replacement....6 weeks later Kelli and Eason have a wedding. I've really probably been to less than 10 weddings in my life, but somehow 3 of them fall where they fall. And that leaves me standing back in this closet of mine staring at it's contents undecidedly trying to figure out what will work in current state. I'm all for each of you celebrating your love, but mercy can we choose dates a little better? (I know, the real solution is for me to go longer than 8 months without having a surgery, but it is so much more freeing to blame other people. Smile).  So I'm off again to celebrate love and the clothes situation continues to flabbergast me. It's no surprise to you if you have been following along that  I always find my esteem a little dented post surgery.

It's been an undelightful week. I can't really get into the details of it other than to say some of my friends have a lot going on right now and the trickle down of that keeps me up at night. I'm rather fatigued. My soul hurts. I ache for the distress of those around me. I eluded to one of these in my last post. Tomorrow, this friend's family member has surgery. We were dialoguing this week some of the emotions of the situation. As I'm hearing her words,  I was reminded how sometimes you just need and want to be angry. You don't want to hear "everything is going to be ok". You don't want to be reminded that God's plan is purposeful. You simply want to brood and stew and cry a little tear if need be. As I was reminded of that during this exchange, I was confronting that same emotion in a situation with another friend. They were battling a very strong fight with depression and didn't see a way out. I was angry and heartbroken that they chose what they chose, and I was angry that I was paralyzed in utter helplessness in that moment. I'm a fixer and there was no fixing to be had in this moment.

Last January, when Lead Plastic Surgeon confirmed my fears of needing to have another surgery, I remember driving home from the appointment. Ron had met me at the office so we had two cars. As he drove behind me, I had no idea what was going through his mind, but as I rolled under each green light and traversed each mile post, I brewed this pot of disappointment (almost entitlement) of how in the world did it come down to me needing another surgery. Didn't God know that I was completely over this? Did he not remember that I CHOSE to have this mastectomy and therefore it should be to the point, cut and dried, take them off, put them back on, and tie it all up in a breast cancer awareness pink bow? Well as the odometer turned each mile, the disappointment soon morphed into something a little more sinister. Disappointment's cousin, Anger, had arrived with it's overnight bag in tow. I knew that I need to get that emotion under control and quickly, but I also knew that in the moment that was exactly what I need (and maybe even wanted) to feel. I didn't want to hear from you "Sally, you can do this!" I simply wanted you to sit beside me and brood with me. I needed that. If I didn't work through that anger moment first, it was going to be there underneath tainting everything that was to come next. I very easily see the blessings that can come of any situation (see last post), but that doesn't man I am not angry at the event itself. The anger was there and had to be worked through before I could get to the promises of the situation - peace, joy, blessings, it gets better in time, etc. For the drive and a few nights following, disappointment and anger were my bed mates. People say don't go to bed angry. I am not so sure I always agree.

Can you sit with me in silence? Can you buy me a bag oranges and then stand with me in the backyard while I hurl them at the fence? Can you pump a fist in the air and utter "dangledorfamoly!" when I need to vent it all out? Too often we feel the obligation to speak the words of comfort and support up front, fast and furious. We get uncomfortable in the silence and regurgitate every "self help" word we have ever heard uttered. We are reminded that we have to be a child of God and erroneously think we have to "happy go Sally" in every moment of every day. Sometimes, the healing we need most (at least early on) is to simply be in the moment angry and frustrated. For an hour. For a day. For a whatever. Get it out of our system so that it doesn't seep into the positivity we will need in the days/weeks to come. And gosh darn it, we most certainly want our "women of the trenches" there with us brooding too! It's a true friend that can offer you this exactly when you need it. Sitting quietly and then venting when I need you to vent with me. Then, (usually about 24 hours for me) we can shift over into pulling the boot straps up and jumping in the saddle to leap through the hurdles in the field with positive outlook as our pony. Full disclosure, I'm learning that I myself am not very good at that kind of support. Cheering you on through your moment is what I do. I see the promises and want to get you there! So I am having to step back and train myself to let you be where you are initially. I am learning to sit in silence with you as you navigate those early hours. God is growing me in this and he is doing it fast motion this week as I stroll through this week with several friends in crisis.

I'm packing for a wedding. I shoving stuff in the bag that might make "this" work while wearing that. Later tonight when I zip up the bag, I will remind myself to be comfortable and confident in this body. And then even later tonight when I climb into bed, I will say a "dangledorfamoly!" in your honor before bowing my head in prayer. Sometimes prayer is the only think you need to offer.


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