Normally I'm not a huge fan of worry. It doesn't do any good. It doesn't change anything in the end. Really, I think it's kind of stupid and annoying!
But sometimes you can't help it...
A couple of weeks ago I woke up from a dead sleep and had the urge to check my breast. No, this is not common for me and no, I wasn't having a (hmmmm, what should I call it?) "fun" dream. I woke up and felt a lump. One of those scary, "What the EFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!" lumps. So, I attempted to go back to sleep.
I woke up in the morning, not feeling very rested, but hopeful nonetheless. "Maybe it was a bad dream?" "I'm sure it's nothing." "I'm sure everything is fine." You know, attempted to convince myself that I am cray cray (I am certifiably cray cray, but you know what I mean. I was trying to convince myself that it wasn't a lump and I most certainly didn't have any enlarged lymph nodes (I do)).
My loving husband returned after a 12 hour shift and I had him feel me up...in the living room...Like "Aaron, seriously, feel this right now. Am I cray cray? What the EFF is this?! And feel these!! What the EFF!!??" Not, "Hey, want me to join you for a shower?" feel me up.
But, he wouldn't tell me that I'm cray cray. He said I should most certainly call the doctor Monday morning because I don't generally overreact about "me" things. Like, I've really only gone to the doctor for anything other than well visits when my leg looked like Andre the Freaking Giant, so I need to call when the office opens.
So, I called when the office opened and they couldn't get me in until Friday. FREAKING FRIDAY!! As I was calling to make the appointment an email from my friend Julie popped up on my screen. She dreamed about me last night and wants to have lunch soon. On any other day or from most other people this wouldn't have induced an anxiety attack, but Julie is a breast cancer survivor. Julie is a friend that I used to talk to daily, but due to our busy schedules these days we rarely get to chat. WHY is she emailing me today? Why is she dreaming about me!? I had to talk myself out of having a panic attack. EFFF!
I waited all week and felt the lump and my enlarged lymph nodes and WORRIED. And pretended like everything was fine and dandy, but I worried. I attended all of my meetings, went to work all week and somehow managed not to curl up in a ball and shut down. I told my husband and mother that I did not need them to accompany me to the appointment. I can handle getting felt up alone! (And I knew she wouldn't tell me anything bad. I was HOPING she'd tell me I was cray cray and everything was fine).
But, she didn't. She felt the lump. She felt the lymph nodes. I'm cray cray, but I wasn't imagining anything. Well...EFF.
EFF. EFF.EFF.EFF.EFF.
Then I coached myself: "Ok, I have age on my side. She just wants it checked out. A diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound can't be that bad. I'm sure it's nothing. "
Then my fear took over: "But, 1 in 8 women get breast cancer. Cancer is prevalent in my family. We are already having a shitastic month. 31 is young, but Heidi was younger!"
Next, I tried to concentrate on all of the activities that are going on in the next month or so. I wrote in my planner, I bought some new clothes, I ate a box of Samoa cookies. (Yes, the WHOLE EFFING BOX...IN A DAY!) Everything I normally do to stop the anxiety. I pushed all of the thoughts out of my mind and tried not think of the "what if".
I still have 6 more days to worry before the day of testing. I'm still functioning. I'm still working, but the concentration isn't what it should be. I'm still standing on the soccer field and corralling the little monsters as we attempt to teach skills to very young, wild children, but my mind is wandering. I'm trying to keep it all together, but the aching in my shoulders is very heavy. I can feel it pushing down in anticipation of the appointment. The anxiety of a possible rotten diagnosis.
I know how quickly life can change. I have taken life for granted far too many times. I've selfishly hurried the bedtime story in exchange for some alone time. I've ignored the phone when I should have picked it up. "In a minute" has turned into not at all. I continue to assume that all of my loved ones know just that: that I love them more than the words I can put together on a piece of paper.
And it's overwhelming and heavy and that stupid, annoying worry is there even when I fight it.
Keegan's been reminding me the last couple weeks, too. "Mommy, would Mimi be our Mommy if you die?"
So, I worry and then I pray. I pray and then I worry. I take longer showers to rinse away the "what if" tears and promise to stop taking the days for granted. I worry and I pray.
Stupid, annoying worry.
4/2/13
We tried to fight the worry with a retreat to my uncle's trailer...either way it was good to see my baby brother and Lainer even if the worry was still present. Daddy was off and able to join us too, but I didn't snap any photos of him:(But sometimes you can't help it...
A couple of weeks ago I woke up from a dead sleep and had the urge to check my breast. No, this is not common for me and no, I wasn't having a (hmmmm, what should I call it?) "fun" dream. I woke up and felt a lump. One of those scary, "What the EFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!" lumps. So, I attempted to go back to sleep.
I woke up in the morning, not feeling very rested, but hopeful nonetheless. "Maybe it was a bad dream?" "I'm sure it's nothing." "I'm sure everything is fine." You know, attempted to convince myself that I am cray cray (I am certifiably cray cray, but you know what I mean. I was trying to convince myself that it wasn't a lump and I most certainly didn't have any enlarged lymph nodes (I do)).
My loving husband returned after a 12 hour shift and I had him feel me up...in the living room...Like "Aaron, seriously, feel this right now. Am I cray cray? What the EFF is this?! And feel these!! What the EFF!!??" Not, "Hey, want me to join you for a shower?" feel me up.
But, he wouldn't tell me that I'm cray cray. He said I should most certainly call the doctor Monday morning because I don't generally overreact about "me" things. Like, I've really only gone to the doctor for anything other than well visits when my leg looked like Andre the Freaking Giant, so I need to call when the office opens.
So, I called when the office opened and they couldn't get me in until Friday. FREAKING FRIDAY!! As I was calling to make the appointment an email from my friend Julie popped up on my screen. She dreamed about me last night and wants to have lunch soon. On any other day or from most other people this wouldn't have induced an anxiety attack, but Julie is a breast cancer survivor. Julie is a friend that I used to talk to daily, but due to our busy schedules these days we rarely get to chat. WHY is she emailing me today? Why is she dreaming about me!? I had to talk myself out of having a panic attack. EFFF!
I waited all week and felt the lump and my enlarged lymph nodes and WORRIED. And pretended like everything was fine and dandy, but I worried. I attended all of my meetings, went to work all week and somehow managed not to curl up in a ball and shut down. I told my husband and mother that I did not need them to accompany me to the appointment. I can handle getting felt up alone! (And I knew she wouldn't tell me anything bad. I was HOPING she'd tell me I was cray cray and everything was fine).
But, she didn't. She felt the lump. She felt the lymph nodes. I'm cray cray, but I wasn't imagining anything. Well...EFF.
EFF. EFF.EFF.EFF.EFF.
Then I coached myself: "Ok, I have age on my side. She just wants it checked out. A diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound can't be that bad. I'm sure it's nothing. "
Then my fear took over: "But, 1 in 8 women get breast cancer. Cancer is prevalent in my family. We are already having a shitastic month. 31 is young, but Heidi was younger!"
Next, I tried to concentrate on all of the activities that are going on in the next month or so. I wrote in my planner, I bought some new clothes, I ate a box of Samoa cookies. (Yes, the WHOLE EFFING BOX...IN A DAY!) Everything I normally do to stop the anxiety. I pushed all of the thoughts out of my mind and tried not think of the "what if".
I still have 6 more days to worry before the day of testing. I'm still functioning. I'm still working, but the concentration isn't what it should be. I'm still standing on the soccer field and corralling the little monsters as we attempt to teach skills to very young, wild children, but my mind is wandering. I'm trying to keep it all together, but the aching in my shoulders is very heavy. I can feel it pushing down in anticipation of the appointment. The anxiety of a possible rotten diagnosis.
I know how quickly life can change. I have taken life for granted far too many times. I've selfishly hurried the bedtime story in exchange for some alone time. I've ignored the phone when I should have picked it up. "In a minute" has turned into not at all. I continue to assume that all of my loved ones know just that: that I love them more than the words I can put together on a piece of paper.
And it's overwhelming and heavy and that stupid, annoying worry is there even when I fight it.
Keegan's been reminding me the last couple weeks, too. "Mommy, would Mimi be our Mommy if you die?"
So, I worry and then I pray. I pray and then I worry. I take longer showers to rinse away the "what if" tears and promise to stop taking the days for granted. I worry and I pray.
Stupid, annoying worry.
4/2/13
Philippians 4:6
New International Version (NIV)
6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
Thank you so much for sharing!
ReplyDeleteKortney