I made a mistake this morning. I stepped into the realm of worst case scenario.
Flicking on my computer, I began my morning perusal of a breast cancer forum on breastcancer.org, this time getting tips from women who have just had a mastectomy. One thread led to another, and pretty soon I was wrapped up in sad stories from Stage III and Stage IV patients. It didn’t take too much imagination or projection to put myself in their shoes, and then it was all downhill to … Breast Cancer Blues.
I eventually managed to shut off my computer and go upstairs to find refuge and reassurance from Earl, but still found it difficult to shake my melancholy. So I left him in charge of getting the kids ready for their last day of school, strapped on my walking shoes, and headed out into the fresh morning air. While exercise is typically a surefire antidote to stress or gloominess for me, today’s mood proved a worthy challenger. Clearly, it was time for some more ammunition. I tried a little shopping, a couple of bites of chocolate, but I still couldn’t shake that funk, the nagging voice in the back of my head that maybe, just maybe, things weren’t going to be ok. I wasn’t worried about the surgery. I was terrified by what will come after the surgery, the pathology report and the prognosis.
And then I received a call. And an email. From my cousin Frank and my childhood friend Kim. Angels from heaven, they reminded me when I needed it most today that I am not alone and that I am loved. And all of a sudden, without effort, the clouds lifted and I remembered why I am going to make it through this: because I am not alone and because I am loved.
(BTW, I’m actually going to follow Earl’s advice for once and initiate a moratorium on research until after I get the pathology report back.)
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