A funeral, the dark divide and broccoli- Nov 1, 2019

It’s been 5 days since I was told the terrible news.  

My mind has been going crazy with thoughts that always want to lead to the worst possible outcome.  I had just been told that I had a >95% chance of having metastatic breast cancer.  

Last weekend my camp and church community also lost a beautiful person who was in a motorcycle accident.  This week was his funeral and wake.  I can’t explain the tremendous effort it took for me to go to the funeral home yesterday.

 If there ever is a time to face your own death, it was this combination this week that set it apart.

I was sick over the passing of this friend and sick over my own worries and the unknown future.   I pulled into the funeral home and made my way in.  I arrived early hoping I could get in and out quickly.  I stood waiting for them to open the rooms.  I hadn’t told anyone other than my close family and I was processing how all of this fit into my identity and life.  It reminded me a little bit about how I felt after I divorced.  At first, I didn’t want to announce it or tell people for fear of how others would see me.  It was interwoven with a self-identity that somehow spoke of failure in our society.  This illness too felt like a failure of my body.  Somehow, I wasn’t whole or normal.  I was breaking down and I didn’t know how to feel about it and so how would others accept me?  All of these racing thoughts flashed through me in a wave of unconscious emotion.

A few friends came in and I chatted idly with them.  One of these women was someone I knew that had breast cancer about a year earlier.  I wanted so badly to talk to her, but I knew this wasn’t the time or place.  I quickly told her that I wanted to talk to her about something and wondered if I could get her phone number.  She happily agreed.  I said my condolences and went home.

This morning I was contemplating the timing of all of these events.  I had worried about not having discovered this lump earlier, about having to wait weeks for a biopsy and for the next steps of treatment.  I watched a video my mom sent me of a guy who was talking about God.  He talked about how we are always asking God for things and telling him our worries.  He says that we only seem to make God important when we need something.  He said even with hardships and illness and worries, we have to give those to God.  We are only here on this earth for a short period of time and God is forever.  We have to remember that God leads our lives and to have faith in that.  To give our worries over to God and what happens is truly what is meant to happen. It did speak to me about letting go and about giving our worries to God and knowing that God has our back.  He will determine our path and we need to be trusting that this is the right path for us.  I always feel that God is leading me.  There could be a good reason for the delay in the biopsy.  Maybe I will discover something that needs consideration that I wouldn’t have had if everything had been organized sooner.  Maybe I will get a different doctor that I need for this to move forward in a more positive way.  Maybe I will be more mentally ready for the next phase.  Whatever those reasons, I am trying really hard to put my faith in God and know it will be okay.  This is a trying time.  It is so tempting to go to bad places and be fearful.  I acknowledge I am struggling but I am praying for strength.

After this video message, I decided to go to the gym, to try to maintain that normalcy when it feels as though my world is crumbling.  I wanted to clear my mind of all these competing thoughts of hope and failure.  I am in a waiting mode for the next 2 weeks for the biopsies to happen.  I also keep checking in on what I have come to call “the cancer baby”.  Now knowing this thing is still in me and slowly sucking the life out of me makes me angry and scared.  I feel betrayed by my body.  My acupuncture Doctor this week observed that I didn’t trust myself anymore as she gently looked at me during one of my sessions.  She was so right.  That is exactly how I felt. I have lost all trust in my body.  I had even thought that a soreness lower down under the breast area on my ribs was a sign that it was spreading.  I actually broke down for the first time and cried.  I am usually pretty good at holding it together, but I think the weight of the news, the funeral and coming to fully embrace my situation just felt a bit too much.  I called my parents who came over and sat with me and listened to my worries.  I just needed those few minutes to get myself back together.  

I am trying hard to focus on school and the girls and keep my mind occupied with other things outside of myself.  I think this is very important.  I need my friends and family to distract me and keep my focus on the right thing as I continue to eat 1 and ½ cups of broccoli a day.