17, Five & pumpkins

We're 17 days away from my surgery now, and Lifetime's FIVE premieres tonight at 9 p.m.! Both very exciting things. Please tune in tonight if you can, or set your DVR! Although I received a movie viewing kit from Lifetime complete with tank tops, martini shakers, popcorn, napkins and coasters, I decided not to have a viewing party for this movie. I figure there might be lots of crying, and I'd like to see it the first time just with Sean. I will wear my Lifetime tank top, though, and I'm sure we'll have fun snacks!
Since my "stuck" post I have been on the ups. I'm still struggling a lot with the same stuff I was struggling with before, but I'm managing a little better, and I'm entering more happiness and healing things into my life, and removing things that are toxic.
Since "The Game Plan," I have meditated (though not for more than 15 minutes each time -- hey, it takes practice!), have avoided reading breast cancer news on the Internet, and have put real effort into looking at the big picture and the positives. I have, and continue to, work hard to understand my fear and to manage it. I can't exactly get rid of it, but I can manage it so that it doesn't control my life. That is the goal, anyway.
This past weekend was filled with both relaxation Saturday, and fun plans Sunday. Saturday, though it was Yom Kippur, I didn't fast or spend the day in synagogue which was a little sad for me. But since Sean was at home with his family, I took the time to have a relaxing two days to myself. I caught up on some TV shows, did laundry, meditation, ran errands and went for a 30-minute walk around the neighborhood. Then Sean came back Saturday evening and we had a relaxing evening, just the two of us. Sunday was filled with pumpkin-picking at a nearby farm (and honey crisp apple-purchasing!), and brunch and walking at the park with girlfriends. I walked more than three miles Sunday which felt amazing. It was nice to soak up this "hot" October weather while it lasted.
Sunday, though busy, felt pretty balanced to me. It wasn't too much to make me angry or in pain; it was just enough to get my mood up. The sunshine and exercise always helps, too.
Though I'm still very new to meditation and still figuring it out, I think it is going to be something I enjoy. I know I need to work hard to actually get "there" - a place where I literally am not, at all, thinking about ANYTHING. Seriously, it sounds like the hardest thing ever. Because, honestly, when I sit down with my eyes closed on my purple yoga mat with my eye mask on, in the dark, all I want to do is think about everything - my feelings, anxieties, fears, concerns, etc. But that isn't meditation. It's about getting AWAY from those things and finding a place all your own, free of all those thoughts. You concentrate on your breathing, and feel and learn the rhythm of your breath and get to a place where you're nowhere, so to speak. And that sounds exactly like what I need. Because lately my fears have taken over my life. I need to work on finding a place where I don't have that. If I can accomplish that, for an hour each day, I think that will help. I can never be sure how much something will help, or what the results will be, but I feel it is the best thing to try right now. Because when I'm at work thoughts rush around my head. Before sleep, more thoughts. Worries. Fear. When I'm working out. It doesn't matter if I'm walking or lifting weights or doing crunches, or even holding a yoga pose, I'm still consumed by fear. It's a little less when I'm out with friends because it helps put things into perspective. But I need to find a place where I don't have that, because it's hard for me to see a place in my life right now where there is no fear or anxiety relating to breast cancer. If I can prove to myself that there IS such a place and I can actually GET to it, I will be making progress. And I want to make progress.
And oftentimes, when I feel I AM making progress, and getting to a "new normal," something sets me back, like my recent appointment with my genetic counselor. Although there was no news that came from that, we still spent two hours talking about my health, which makes me anxious. And I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow with the oncologist I saw when I was first diagnosed. I met with him originally because if I were to need chemotherapy it would have been done out of his office, instead of Hershey, because he is local. Luckily and thankfully I didn't need chemotherapy, but my breast surgeon has recommended I meet with him again, at the end of all this, to "close the loop." Though I'm not expecting anything much to come out of it tomorrow, I know by now that is the wrong assumption. No matter what actually happens during it, every time I leave a doctor's appointment I am nervous, scared and anxious all over again. There are always new things, believe it or not, to talk about. I have some questions I want to bring up with the doctor tomorrow (and he works directly with my breast surgeon so he is a good person to ask), such as what my chances for recurrence are, or what my risks are for developing breast cancer in the other breast. I might feel better, or worse, if I hear this information straight from the doctor. Or, my anxiety could be exactly the same after. No matter what, though, I've come to learn you can never EVER expect anything from any of these appointments. You always leave with new information, new thoughts, new perspectives. Some are good, but mostly they promote further anxiety and fear. Believe it or not there's always more to talk about, even if you feel you've exhausted EVERY topic. Nope. Never. I never know what to expect and that's hard. Because I just want to be done with it all. I don't want to talk to doctors about this anymore. I don't want them telling me new things I had never even considered. UGH. So I guess I should prepare for another setback after tomorrow, just as I was on the ups.
I always try to imagine: "what could he/she POSSIBLY tell me that I didn't already know?" or "what could he/she POSSIBLY tell me that would completely change how I feel about everything?" Well, the possibilities are endless. Really. It has never been black and white. There has never been a straight "yes" or "no" answer. After a while, conclusions form based on what seems like hundreds of gray areas. Nothing is straightforward in any of this. And, even as I know that, nothing ceases to surprise me. So I can try to prepare for my appointment for tomorrow, but the best way I can think of to prepare is to not prepare. Either way I think I'll be a mess. Because I think even if he, a doctor, tells me my chances are really LOW of getting another breast cancer, I'll STILL be anxious. Nothing has helped with that so far. I'm still anxious, even AFTER I had a clinical breast exam AND and ultrasound and nothing showed up as a cause for concern. I'm still reeling. Part of that is a mental thing, and part of that is the fact that they found what they thought was a (benign) fibroadenoma in my left breast and asked me if I wanted to have it biopsied. That's what I mean. NOTHING is black and white. Why couldn't I have just had an ultrasound and had the doctors say: "everything looks good!" and then I'd leave the office. But no. It's "we THINK this looks benign but do you want us to biopsy it for peace of mind?" PEACE OF MIND?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! LEAVE ME ALONE! No, I don't want another biopsy, in my healthy breast, after undergoing numerous tests and biopsies for breast cancer, and eventually a mastectomy, in the other breast! That's the hard part of all this, and probably something that is a huge factor in my anxiety, and that is that nothing (repeat: nothing) is, and ever has been, straightforward. So can you really blame me for wanting another mastectomy?! Who would go through screenings and tests and possibly more biopsies just because doctors THINK or don't THINK something is benign or not?! There is never a straight answer. There is guessing and assumptions, and I don't function that way, especially when it comes to my health.
So, back on topic: I'll still be surprised at what happens tomorrow, even though nothing is SUPPOSED to happen. We can never be too sure. And honestly, I've had lots of "surprises" lately. I'd just like to be away from my breast cancer. I'd like to hop on my wedding cushion and float, like a magic carpet in Aladdin, for the next five months and three weeks until the wedding. And I'd like to GET TO and HAVE the wedding. Can we just do that? Thanks.
On a happier note, and as part of me looking at the big picture and being thankful for my wonderful, fabulous, and self-proclaimed glamorous life, I have included pictures from yesterday at the pumpkin patch. The little kids and the hayrides and the pumpkins and the apples. Just darling! I love fall. Yes, happy times. I can't forget that. I can't forget how wonderful my life, and the people in it, really are. Fear shouldn't trump that. Nothing should trump that. And that's what I'm working on. One of the best things about trying to accomplish something is that there is no limit to how much, how hard, and how long you can work towards something.

So, because I love lists, here is a working list of the things I'm working on:
1. Not letting fear trump life. Fear is small and life is big. Really big. Life should trump fear.
2. Meditation. Can I actually sit there and think about virtually nothing? Can I?
3. Getting back to my "new normal" which is, right now, loving fall-flavored candles, coffee in the morning while watching any of my DVR'd Bravo or HGTV shows, Essie nail polish all day every day, my thick, fluffy pink bathrobe which is appropriate now because it's October, and being in pain from the expander, but loving all that stuff more than the expander causes pain.
4. Counting down to my surgery and to the wedding.
5. Finding, and living, the best I can, in balance.
6. Taking control of my fear by talking to doctors and getting real answers, and by talking with my therapist, friends and family about my feelings. And getting it out of my system, even if it takes hours every day. And even if it's never really all out.
7. Mentally and physically planning entire outfits (dress, shoes, accessories) for my bridal shower, bachelorette weekend, two Aufrufs and rehearsal dinner.
8. Loving life the "Marjorie Way"


Alright. There we have it. Eight things I'm working on. I can be satisfied just by working on them. I might not have answers or conclusions, but I have my game plan and it's in action. It's happening. Me trying to be me. Trying to find the light, the hope. Addressing the things that cloud it. And working through them. Working through the thorns. I used that metaphor many months ago. I said my journey, back then, was working through the thorns to find the roses. Though my journey today, and the thorns today, are very different than they were even one month ago, I'm still working through them. They may be less sharp, and there may be more roses today. But the thorns definitely are not gone. But that's OK. The best I can ask of myself is to keep trudging because, eventually, I'll get there. And even if I don't, I can be happy knowing that me being strong is trying, every day. Sometimes that's the hardest part: trying and trying and trying. But if that can be the hardest part right now, and I'm doing it, I have to be doing a good job, right?
In words inspired by my mom, and a phrase I've used many times in life (and even once in this blog), when I think "I can't do this" I have to remember: I already am.