Well, I wasn't at all exaggerating when I said each day is literally a struggle. I had decided, just yesterday, I would call my breast surgeon in Hershey and make an appointment for an ultrasound AFTER my surgery. It was all planned out in my mind. So I called this morning, before my therapist appointment, and said I'd like to come in after my surgery, but before April, for an ultrasound. I had orginally called a week or so ago because I was worried about sharp, sporadic pains I was experiencing in my left breast. I talked myself into chalking it up to being a combination of mental anxiety, caffeine and stress. When I called they said to watch it, and to call again if I wanted to come in to get it checked out, but pain rarely is a symptom of "anything bad." She also said I could have pain from where the titanium marker is where I got a biopsy back in April. Scar tissue can form around it, creating some discomfort. So, at that time, I kind of let it go, and the pain faded a little bit. But I called this morning because I didn't want to just "forget" about it and let it consume me until April. Because I know myself, and pain or no pain, I would want to get it checked out, DESPITE the fact that I just had an ultrasound on that breast in September. Anyway, point aside. So they said to come in, but would rather I do so BEFORE the surgery. They want to make sure everything looks good since that left breast (the one with the pain - the one I didn't have breast cancer in) will be getting a silicone implant along with the right breast. And it makes sense. Anytime they are doing surgery on something and I have a complain or concern about it, it should get checked out BEFORE the surgery. Yes, It makes sense. And in the long run, I'll probably be happy with this decision. But I'm going THE DAY BEFORE the surgery. The day before. So, automatically, my mind races to worst case scenario (or just bad case scenario) and that's they WILL find something they need to biopsy, and if they do, the surgery will be cancelled. No implants. Expander stays in. Biopsy. On the other hand, as the nurse described, if everything looks normal and they just see regular fibrocystic changes, they will go ahead with the surgery. UGH.
Half of me thinks I "created" this anxiety-provoking scenario. I am the one who called to get an ultrasound. They didn't want to see me until April. Yet I called and wanted to go in. But on the other hand, I didn't do this for nothing. I was concerned about pains and I didn't want to "let that go" until April, mostly for my mental well-being. The doctors took my concerns seriously and scheduled me in. The good part is that if all looks OK, I'll get yet another "clean bill" right before my surgery. I'll get the go-ahead, like I already did in September. I'll feel confident knowing the surgery was done after everything was checked out. But on the other hand, IF (G-d forbid!!!!) they see something they want to biopsy, I will begin this hell all over again. Not only will I be devestated that my surgery will be cancelled (it was so WELL-scheduled into my life right now), but there will be even worse things on my plate. Things I don't even want to think about.
The realistic me, hidden somewhere deep down, thinks everything SHOULD be OK next week and the surgery will go on as scheduled. But the anxious me, where I am the exception to every health rule, and nothing is what it seems, and we can never, EVER be too certain, is trying to prepare myself for the worse. Or the worse that could come out of that day next Wednesday.
My therapist described me, quite perfectly, as in I have created no room in my head for relief. I'm always, try as I might, trying to achieve a place of control, peace and certainty over my life where I can just LIVE without anxiety. But I always, always, always cancel that out with some new and, some of the same, worries. I don't allow any space of peace, of calm. And I probably won't for a while. And that's just the way it is now.
Yes, every day is a struggle. Not just a struggle to live or to survive or to keep going, but a struggle to find just one place in my mind to be. It doesn't even matter WHAT that place is. I just need to find one. One single place to be. It's near impossible.
So I'm not sure how I'll BE this next week, as I wait for my ultrasound on Wednesday, and hopefully my surgery on Thursday. As much as I want all of this to be over, it's really, really not. Once again, the end of the tunnel feels clouded, and today, for the first time in a while, I see more thorns on my path than roses.
Sorry to be depressing, but there's no purpose in me having this blog if I'm not telling the truth about how I feel every single day.
Half of me thinks I "created" this anxiety-provoking scenario. I am the one who called to get an ultrasound. They didn't want to see me until April. Yet I called and wanted to go in. But on the other hand, I didn't do this for nothing. I was concerned about pains and I didn't want to "let that go" until April, mostly for my mental well-being. The doctors took my concerns seriously and scheduled me in. The good part is that if all looks OK, I'll get yet another "clean bill" right before my surgery. I'll get the go-ahead, like I already did in September. I'll feel confident knowing the surgery was done after everything was checked out. But on the other hand, IF (G-d forbid!!!!) they see something they want to biopsy, I will begin this hell all over again. Not only will I be devestated that my surgery will be cancelled (it was so WELL-scheduled into my life right now), but there will be even worse things on my plate. Things I don't even want to think about.
The realistic me, hidden somewhere deep down, thinks everything SHOULD be OK next week and the surgery will go on as scheduled. But the anxious me, where I am the exception to every health rule, and nothing is what it seems, and we can never, EVER be too certain, is trying to prepare myself for the worse. Or the worse that could come out of that day next Wednesday.
My therapist described me, quite perfectly, as in I have created no room in my head for relief. I'm always, try as I might, trying to achieve a place of control, peace and certainty over my life where I can just LIVE without anxiety. But I always, always, always cancel that out with some new and, some of the same, worries. I don't allow any space of peace, of calm. And I probably won't for a while. And that's just the way it is now.
Yes, every day is a struggle. Not just a struggle to live or to survive or to keep going, but a struggle to find just one place in my mind to be. It doesn't even matter WHAT that place is. I just need to find one. One single place to be. It's near impossible.
So I'm not sure how I'll BE this next week, as I wait for my ultrasound on Wednesday, and hopefully my surgery on Thursday. As much as I want all of this to be over, it's really, really not. Once again, the end of the tunnel feels clouded, and today, for the first time in a while, I see more thorns on my path than roses.
Sorry to be depressing, but there's no purpose in me having this blog if I'm not telling the truth about how I feel every single day.
Dear Marjie: I'll be praying for your peace of mind -- won't that be joyous to achieve?! But I need to tell you ... There's a REASON that WOman and WOrry both have a little bit of WOe in them. Then again, so does WOnderful. We're therefore ENTITLED to WOrry. It's second nature to us. Trust your instincts, Marjie ... but don't let WOrry consume you. I'll be thinking about you.
ReplyDeleteFondly,
Ellen