To say that I am frustrated with myself is an understatement. It may be hard for some to understand, especially if they do not deal with anxiety.
I am frustrated that I don’t take more time to write about the many battles and obstacles that I have faced in this life to make me, me. You know the battle of raising an Oppositional Defiant Child and the many doubts and parenting lessons we have faced along the way. I still haven’t even written about my Jerry Springer Thanksgiving, now that is going to be a good one. The many Amanda-isms that I could hash out but instead I lose the momentum and the moment in time.
Here I am, looking for ways to pre-occupy my mind by numbingly skimming through Facebook to waste time or finding another novel to read so maybe I can go into a fantasy world and not deal with my constant source of worry. What is on my mind these days?
It’s fucking Cancer. Again.
F you cancer. Dammit.
It wasn’t enough that you chose to be a part of my Aunt’s life. (I almost wrote consume her life, but that just won’t do because neither she nor I will let that happen.) You just had to take up residence in mine as well. What the F.
I know, I know. It’s the “good cancer.” I mean that is what I keep trying to tell myself and I have heard it from many others. I am not sure if it is their way of trying to make me feel better, to make themselves feel better or if they truly think I got the easy road and I am lucky to not have real cancer. Not sure. Don’t care.
My Aunt has said it many times and now it echoes in my mind,
“Once you have cancer in your body, it is always there. It will come back.”
That phrase haunts me. I am scared that when they open me up, so to speak, that it will just be everywhere. This is why I have felt so miserable for so long. That is the destiny that I will face and my worst nightmare (or at least one of them.) This is one of the thoughts that creep into my mind during Aubrey and I’s late-night meetings. It keeps me up at night and sometimes it makes me bawl my damn eyes out.
I do believe that crying is good. It cleanses your mind, your soul, and your thoughts. It helps me and sometimes I just need to get it out. Do not be mistaken. Everyone should have a good cry now and again.
The thoughts that plague my mind:
No mother wants to miss out on their babies lives. Especially their childhood. No one wants to picture their husband wifeless and one-day making room in his heart for someone else.
Unfortunately, these are the thoughts that creep into my mind. I know I am being dramatic. And no, I do not think these thoughts all of the time, but sometimes my anxiety won’t let me think otherwise. And it sucks.
And yes, when I think of another woman trying to take my place, I may daydream of me finding a way to haunt my husband and make him know that I am always watching. (I am totally kidding, but come on, no one wants that to happen!)
Other sources to stir up anxiety:
It just so happens that I am also waiting on the results of my BRCA tests. Ironically, they are due back the day before my thyroid cancer is removed from my body. I am more scared of these results than my thyroid cancer.
Yes, a lot of it has to do with my Aunt and seeing what she has been going through. It also has to do with the fact that I have decided that some very brash and severe decisions need to be made.
If the results are positive, I am getting a double mastectomy. I know that the doctors may try to talk me out of it and be more conservative, doing mammograms and monitoring me more closely and more often. They can think as conservative as they like, but anyone that knows me knows that conservative is not in my vocabulary. I do not want to wait until it is cancer. I do not want to continue to live my life knowing that there is now an 85% chance that I could have breast cancer in my lifetime. Why would I do that to myself? Shannon supports my decision and truly that is all of the support that I need.
Am I scared shitless? Yes.
Does that matter? Nope.
I’m tough and I will get through it.
I want to be there for my babies. I want to see my boys get married to the loves of their lives, I want to see my baby give birth to her babies. There is no other way. As I write this I am crying because I am scared that I may not have that right. I may be looking down on them, instead of by their sides. I know it is harsh, but this is what the anxiety does to me.
It’s funny because this is the first surgery in my life that I have really have not been that nervous about. I have been much more nervous about my periodontal deep gum cleanings.
I just want it out. Exit my body swiftly, you are not welcome back. Bye Felicia.
I have always felt there is something going on with my thyroid for many, many years. I have never felt right and it just got worse and worse. At this point in time, the symptoms seem to be so much worse than the surgery and recovery (from what I have been told by those that have been through it). I am taking this head on and I look forward to the future. I say this in the most positive light, but while I write this sentence the anxiety is not taking hold of me.
It’s not always rainbows and butterflies and I do not claim to be that way. This is just me, telling you the thoughts that sometimes creep into my anxiety-ridden mind.
I will get through this with a smile on my face and I will be ok, but if I could just always feel that way in my mind that would be great.
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