Honestly I was so busy today I hardly got to think about details of tomorrow. Over the past four days I’ve been obliging people who have wanted to see me “BEFORE” and people who have wanted to chat on the phone. I’ve obliged but mostly without desire to talk about it. I understand everyone wants to remind me that they will be thinking of me and that I have help in place where I need it. They care. But I’m done.
Last phone calls with doctors offices and admitting offices have upset me more than calmed nerves. They remind me that there’s still a chance that after all this, I have invasive cancer. the samples they will send to the lab can still come back with positive results for cancers that they never saw on any scan. Honestly that makes me mad. Furious in fact. Why the hell have scans, MRIs, all that science- if it doesn’t tell you anything. Why lot just send samples of all your body parts to have them tested? Can you imagine sending tissue from your toe in to see if they have cancer?!? I just so done with all of this! I’m so tired of waiting. And now I get to anticipate waiting until I actually have surgery.
After all those phone calls, I opened a bottle of wine. It’s not like me, but I did it.
I went to my last gym class before I can't go for six weeks or more. It was bootcamp, but not the class I wanted. It wasn't the challenge I needed. I cried in the contemplative moments. I cried because I would miss it. I cried because it wasnt fair. I cried because, yes, I wanted to be able to do more push ups. I cried because I haven't cried that much through all of this. I guess it was just time. I pushed through the crunches and the tears. Raw. Real.
My parents arrived - with a car full of food, projects for the kids and the house, and their own pillows - for comfort. I guess I should expect them to stay a while. I am an only child, so to think that they would let this be a short trip - I guess I was kidding myself. I will accept help. I will be a gracious patient. (I am typing this here so that I will stick to this).
Then it come to the quiet hours -the hours where I cant eat or drink anymore. The hours where it is too quiet and the thoughts come streaming through. The thoughts of fear of not waking up. The fear of something completely unexpected happening. The thoughts of test results. The thoughts of being able to get myself into a car without aid. The thoughts of putting this behind me and enjoying seeing it in my rear view mirror. The thoughts of speeding up so that view gets smaller and smaller.....
The last few messages flicker across my phone screen - friends checking in and letting me know they are thinking about me. Its all fine. It will be fine. It will be good. I will be good.
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