I AM…

It has been 4 weeks yesterday since my mastectomy. I have been too unbelievably angry at the world to bring myself to write anything. I didn’t want it to sound like I was in dire need of a straight jacket. I am going to attempt, for my own sanity, to recount the events leading up to my surgery, that horrific day itself, and the weeks since. It will take me some time…bear with me. For now, if you are wondering…

I am…

Infuriated–at the world, specific people that are now part of my medical team, my oldest daughter, and at times God.

Depressed–at my life, what this is doing to my children, how I look, what sacrifices I’ve had to make lately–personally, professionally, and also with my educational goals.

Exhausted–which makes me more angry. Anyone that knows me knows that I am not one to sit still much. I’m always on the go, always doing something, always pushing myself, always chasing after my kids or someone else’s, and now I am ready for bed at 6pm. I am physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. I DON’T LIKE THIS!

STRESSED OUT!–at this medical waiting game, not sure if I’m going to make it out of this, not knowing where my oldest daughter is, getting behind in my classes, getting behind in housework, that I’m impeding my own recovery by being stressed out which starts the whole cycle all over again.

Thankful–that I have wonderful friends that have been carrying me through this–#1 is God, all the dinners that were brought over, all the cards I’ve received–could I ask those of you sending them, though, to address a few to my children? I really think they are in need of encouragement, also. I’m thankful that my family has been so helpful in schlepping me to appointments, helping out in the daycare, letting me vent, and loving me even though they know I am angry–and not holding it against me. SPECIFICALLY, for my husband who has been helping me so much–I can’t imagine what is going through his head as he helps me get undressed or dressed or into the shower. My daughter, Jordan, who has been my on-call nursemaid and makes sure to tuck me in on the couch each night, bring me ice cream, and snuggle up with me to watch movies or just a ton of reality TV, and for my little boy who has made sure that I sleep with his wooby and lovey each night “because then I won’t miss his big love in the middle of the night”.

This has changed me. Maybe it will be for the good someday. Right now, I can honestly say, I am more cynical, pessimistic, hurt, sad, and angry. I am good at keeping all that bottled up while around the kids, but when the doors shut each evening, my mind is my own again and as it races all night long with fear and anxiety leaving me more exhausted from lack of sleep, I have come to realize that sometimes it is more comfortable to stay in that spot–stuck in the muck–then come back up for air. We all need air to survive, so, I am making this attempt with this post to revive myself. If I come to terms with what has happened to me, if I see it in print, if I hear the words narrated in my mind, if I can somehow make sense of it, process it, organize it, compartmentalize it…then maybe I can deal with it.

Maybe…

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Started Tracking on 12-1-09

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