Friday, August 5, 2016
Posted by McKenzie
I saw my family doctor today. It's been a month since she said "cancer" over the phone as I paced on the front walk.
We hugged. We laughed. We cried. She is so much more to me than just my doctor. She is my advocate. My caretaker. My friend.
We talked a lot about what I need... Anti-anxiety Drugs? Therapy? Help coping? Textbook grieving? Affirmations? Permission? Validation?
Permission to feel. To truly feel.
All of it.
Validation of all of the feelings.
All. Of. Them.
The good. The bad. The ugly.
Validation that it is sad that this is happening to me.
Hearing her say those words took my breath away a little. Is it? Is it sad?
Is it okay for me to think that?
Should I allow others to feel that.
Her saying those words gave me the permission. The validation.
And as I lie here, I feel so "normal" like maybe I'll wake up from this strange dream...
Like maybe I won't lose my hair.
Or maybe I don't have cancer.
I know that sounds foolish, but I feel good.
But as each day creeps closer to the next treatment I become more and more anxious. More and more worried, fearful, resistant to my fate every other week.
Thank goodness for small miracles and guardian angels.
It will be bad.
But it's okay to feel, and to struggle.
Because the struggle is real.
People will forget, and move on, and that's okay.
But here's to the small miracles and guardian angels that have buoyed me to this point, and the miracles and guardian angels that will carry me when it is bad.
Thoughts on: #mypinkpeak ·