Friday, February 14, 2014

I can't breathe again...


I'm trying REALLY hard not to let Satan blow it out this week.

But.  I can't breathe.

I'm sore and tired and weak.  Barely strong enough to hold it together right now.  I was thinking hoping praying that I would start gaining strength each day.  Begging for less aches each night during the first week.  I didn't want to get used to them, I wanted them gone.

Week two and already I realize that's simply not in the cards.  I just need to get used to this 'new normal' that fellow survivors have told me about.

Well, new normal blows.  I will gain some strength back and I did get to play volleyball for two hours this weekend.  But the aches aren't going anywhere.

So, I'm coping with this realization.  I know that it will get easier as my body adjusts to the new normal.  Already, I know that I need to give my body time to wake up a bit before I hop out of bed...I USED to be one of those annoying people that popped right out of bed, showered and started the day with an annoying spring in my step.  Now, I stretch my arms and legs before I crawl to the sitting position and then stretch a little more before I stand up.  (Part of this could be because I'm an old 32 years of age now;))

Anyways, I'm coping with this the best way I know how: patience and rest.  I've started to work out a little bit and hopefully that will help...but that's not what has taken my breath away!

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"In my sexy mamo gown in honor of you!!" complete with a smiling photo.

Good girl!! Sexy;)

A few days pass...

Got the call...have to go back for another Mamo and appointment with the radiologists:/ 

Well fuck!!!! When are you going and where?  I'll come and keep you company if I can.

It's fine.  If I have to go for a biopsy or some other tests, you can come.  I can get another squish by myself.  Change from my mam last year..."Ill defined mass."

And our conversation continued like this the rest of the week.  I'm worrying for her.  She is convinced she just needs another squish.  Everything is fine.

But me, well, I wish I were that optimistic.  Instead, I think thoughts like:

There were 15 people at bunco...one in 8.

I can't watch one of my best friends go through this right now. 

I'm not strong enough to help her right now.  

I'm not brave enough to look at her babies and understand first hand what hell their mommy is going to have to endure and how their life is going to be flipped the fuck upside down.

And I start researching again.  And it makes that can't breathe feeling come back again.  And I'm distant and scared again.

There are hundreds of sites like this one:  http://www.breast-cancer.ca/screening/mammographic-mass-characteristics.htm ILL DEFINED MASS

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Last week another one of my close friends came over and told me that his mother has it. I couldn't breathe.  I told him EXACTLY what I DESPISED hearing: She's going to be fine.  They don't even know what they're dealing with yet and it may NOT be fine.  Yet, it just rolled right off of my tongue.
 There isn't anything that can be said when you hear the news.

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I wonder if it will get easier for me to hear?  I hate hearing that someone else has to endure treatments.  HATE it.  Like instantly it makes me want to vomit.

And it takes breathe away.  This week is moving at ultimate turtle speed.  What if my beautiful friend has it?

I can't breathe again.  I can't stop thinking about her and what if.  I know that worry does not help/change anything, but I'm begging and pleading with God in her name while this week slowly moves to the retest date.

I wish I could get off of the roller coaster ride.  Actually, I think it might be more difficult to stop my head from spinning now that the ride has slowed down?!

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Deep breath.  After lots of photos, squishes and an ultrasound, my friend received the clear!! Lots of prayer this week.  Big, loud, noisy prayers.

Dodged a great big bullet today.

With a great big sigh of relief for my friend, but continued prayer focus on healing for Rod's momma,


Laura

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