I really do have holes in my head.
My neurologist (Dr. K) called a few minutes ago. Although I have not yet received the results of the head CT, she has. My brain is clear of tumors, thank God, but there is a finding that looks like new metastasis in my skull. Next step is a bone scan, and I’ll get the paperwork started on that as soon as I receive the referral from from her later today.
My first reactions:
On the phone with Dr. K I was calm, focused, asked appropriate questions.
As soon as I hung up I burst into heavy, wordless sobbing. I called a very close friend who at first couldn’t tell if I was laughing or crying. We prayed together and I calmed down. I know that some of my friends follow my Twitter and Facebook messages, so I posted there. All the while, crying, crying.
I went up to the little oratory (small chapel) upstairs and prayed for strength and wisdom and the grace to be a reflection of our loving God whatever happens next. I remembered that I am not alone, not in this life and not in the next, and I remembered to give thanks to God for my life and all the good gifts I have received so far. I became calmer.
Now I am writing a blog post, and I am calmer still. Writing is good for me. Words soothe me. Get the turmoil outside of me.
Why was I crying so hard? I don’t really know. I’ve been living with cancer for so long now and it’s been years since I reacted so strongly at bad news. It’s not fear at this point; more like frustration and anger. I am tired of this! I hate being an invalid. I hate having to limit my activities. I hate having pain. I hate living with uncertainty. I hate this entity that entered my life and body unbidden and is now calling so many of the shots!
And yet.
The storm passes quickly. I find my center again. I try not to get upset with myself for getting upset – after all, God created us with emotions so they must be good! I get upset, I recover, I keep putting one foot in front of the other. When I can’t do it myself, I get help. Together, we muddle through.
I read it and I want to cry too. All I can do is ask that you be blessed and given ever more strength, and all possible relief from pain, while undergoing new procedures. My thoughts are with you, especially today.
Glad the scan is done and behind you now. I know of that calm that God can cover us with like a blanket that enables us to keep moving ahead in safety in spite of anything else going on. I’m glad you have that. I think of you and pray everyday. Help of every description is out here for you and for all of us who care about you.
Crying helps release emotion charges, it’s like letting go of a lump on one’s chest. I’m so happy for you that you can find solace in prayer and in words. So many people are not blessed with either. I was thinking of you all the time since the scan, and I was going to ask you yesterday about the results then counted the days again and found there’s still one day to go. I’m happy there’s nothing in the brain, and hopefully the bones will be fine too.
More prayers and good wishes going your way, my dear. Keep the strength and faith.
Taking you to prayer today. Thank you for sharing your journey.
Tears of intercession as I read this – praying that you will walk in, and with, the Peace the passes all understanding through all this.
Thank you for being so honest.
Blessings
Maxine
You’re in my thoughts this week
You are in my thoughts.. and what passes for prayers from me these days.
Maybe you’re just getting hardheaded as you grow older? :^) I hope the bone growth is benign and nothing more than annoying and scary.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings in the midst of all this. I know it’s tempting to just hole up and crawl into the fetal position. You are a very courageous and generous person to share what’s going on with us.
God bless you.
Thank you, everyone. I am not at my most communicative just at this moment, but please know how important each of you is to me.