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.
Permission to feel. To truly feel.
All of it.
Validation.
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.
Really 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.
And ugly.
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.
And ugly.
1 comments:
I want you to know that there are very few days since I read your first post that I haven't thought of you. While on vacation this past week in Michigan with my entire family, I began telling my family about you and I cried. It all touches me more than I can really explain. Maybe it's because we are both women or both moms or both wives of doctors. I don't know, but I pray for your strength and your peace and I sincerely admire your ability to be so vulnerable and eloquent about it all. Because it truly is bad and ugly. I've experienced some pretty bad and ugly things in my life and I know that finally getting to the point where I could admit to myself and counselors that they were truly really sh*tty things that happened to me, true healing could finally begin. Sending some hugs your way today.
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