Hurry up and wait

So my doctor's appointment went very well yesterday. I recited my "prepared dialogue" about me not wanting any tests done until after the wedding because mentally I can't handle it. While trying to explain everything I got all flustered and started crying a little (as expected) so Sean jumped in.
My doctor was VERY understanding and accomodating, just as I expected he would be. He understood completely, and agreed I deserved a "break" from now until the wedding. Ya know, the whole breast cancer, four surgeries and Li Fraumeni Syndrome diagnosis - thing.
So basically, here is how the appointment went: we went over my blood tests - everything (LOUD, HARD KNOCKING ON WOOD!) was perfect: iron levels, thyroid, liver function, CBC, even my vitamin D went from in the 30 range to the 70 range, so yes, that means I'm taking my supplements daily!
My doctor also got a copy of my vaccination records, and I am up to date on everything except two vaccines, but he said those could wait until May, when I will see him next. As far as the neck lump, I asked him what he recommended. He felt it to see if it changed, and he was comfortable with the next step being a CT scan, which also can wait until May. Of course I'm still panicky about having this so-called lymph node in my neck enlarged since November or before, but I have to remember I've had two ultrasounds on it, and bloodwork done, so nothing is an emergency at this point. I don't like just leaving it there, but I don't want it removed either. I have to learn to wait for the next step, and feel comfortable in the way that it's being monitored.
So this was my final doctor's appointment before the wedding. A long-awaited one! And I'm all scheduled for post-wedding appointments in April: mammogram, dermatologist, plastic surgeon AND colonoscopy.
It's weird. I've wanted to feel "free" of all this medical anxiety for so long, and now that I am, it feels weird. I'm a little nervous but mostly OK. I mean, I'm wonderful. This is my "break" before the wedding - what I've wanted starting months and months ago - BEFORE the LFS diagnosis, and definitely before January's unexpected surgery.
So now, I can fully be in all my zones. My appointment went so late that we weren't able to make it to Campbell's last day of Puppy One and his graduation, so we rescheduled for Feb. 18, the next free day me and Sean have, believe it or not!
Seven weeks until the wedding, and I feel like, with my doctor's appointments over and the rest of the wedding planning and preparations scheduled, I am hurrying up to wait. I'm excited for the wedding, but that's nothing new. What is new is now I feel "in the clear" medically speaking, which is a little scary, but also makes me even more anxious/excited for the wedding, if that makes sense.
Everything that needs to be done for the wedding is either done or scheduled to be done: our tasting and my trial hair run is this weekend, my dress fittings are scheduled, all of our wedding gifts for the wedding party and family are either already put together or ordered, and literally all of my manis, pedis, massages and facials are on the calendar. From now until a few days before the wedding. What's left is meant to be left: making the seating arrangements and ordering the place cards. We can't do that yet. RSVPs are due by the end of the month, and our hotel block is almost filled, and will probably need to be extended. THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING.
The hurry-up-and-wait part is that the wedding is now 51 days away. What that means to me is that it's both REALLY ALMOST HERE and also SO, SO VERY FAR AWAY. I feel like, when I think about it and get excited about it, I am running on a hamster wheel, really, really fast. The wheel is moving but my feet are getting nowhere. And I'm not talking about plans or preparations or pre-wedding festivities. They are all here or have gotten here. Everything is moving along wonderfully and everything has BEEN wonderful. My little hamster-ness is me on the inside being more and more excited every day, anticipating the moment before I walk down the aisle, picturing how I'll feel, how I'll look, and what I'll think to myself: "Is this really happening? Is this day really here? Am I really getting married?" Maybe I'll laugh, maybe I'll cry. Maybe all of the above, for hours on end. I try to picture March. Is it snowing, raining? Am I in less pain? Is Campbell still biting me? How will my rehearsal dinner outfit come together? What will it be like when literally all of my friends and family are in the same place at the same time?
But mostly, though, I wonder how I'll feel. Will I feel like this? "This" is me slowly healing, physically and mentally. "This" is me working hard every day to balance life and new normals. "This" is me having pain when I lift my right arm. "This" is me having upper back and neck pain, since May, from all my surgeries. "This" is me working hard, playing hard, having tons of plans, living life and planning my wedding, all the whole working, every day, on being OK. On moving forward. On not living in fear. On not living in doubt. On looking to the future, believing in myself, and not dreading my upcoming surgeries, and years upon years of tests and screenings. On learning about the new me, the me that looks at myself before the LFS and thinks I'm a different person, and looks at myself before the breast cancer, and sees not only a different person, but a different person in a different world. How will I be in March?
For the first time ever, I don't see myself in an unfair or unfortunate situation. Sure, all of this happening when it did, WAS and IS unfair and unfortunate. And yes, I'm a special bride. But I'm not the only one whose life sometimes takes a scary turn when planning for something amazing. I'd always talked with my psychiatrist about how I hated that this all happened when I was planning my wedding, and in between engagement parties, bridal showers and my bachelorette weekend were surgeries and tests. I hated it. And I still do. But now, I realize, even after saying it and writing it for nearly a year - THERE IS SO MUCH MORE TO ALL THIS. I had figured that out before: a wedding is a wedding. But the real blessing is GETTING MARRIED and getting to spend the rest of my life with Sean. And now, I finally believe myself when I say it: I can't and don't expect life to pause itself just because I'm getting married. Enter the breast cancer and LFS diagnosis, and unexpected surgery. But I'm not the only one. I'm not the only special bride. After talking with the women at my boutique where I got my prosthesis, I learned that OTHER women had prosthesis's sewn into their wedding dresses, which means OTHER women got married with one or no breasts. I'm not the only special bride. Other brides have dealt with personal tragedies before their weddings. Life doesn't stop. If we postponed weddings everytime something bad happened in life, nobody would ever get married. A dear friend of mine, whom I met through LFS support groups and the blogosphere, is getting married at the beginning of March, all the while dealing with chemotherapy for her breast cancer returning. I know I've mentioned Lainie before, but I'll do it again. I Gchat with her, and have spoken on the phone with her, and Facebook chat with her. She's also 27. She's also a bride. And she also has Li Fraumeni Syndrome. And she is strong. And she keeps going. I won't have one of my breasts for my wedding, but she won't have her hair. Another breast cancer blogger, I learned, got married in between breast cancer treatments. There are so many special brides out there. Strong, beautiful, powerful women. I look to Lainie and find new levels of courage and strength. If she can look beyond the actual wedding and look to life, so can I. If I can believe that my wedding is actually going to happen, I can also believe my life is actually going to happen. The honeymoon, having kids, and every part that comes after that. I know I've said it a million times before, that LFS isn't going to define me and it isn't going to take over my life. That I'll still LIVE, despite all this. And maybe sometimes I've believed it. And I think it took other people to inspire me, but now I do believe it. If Lainine can do it, so can I. If other women can wear prosthesis on their wedding day, so can I. It may be unfair and it may be terrible and it may be sad and it may make people cry and it may be devestating. But, look beyond that. Beyond that - we're getting married. All of us. Breasts or not, hair or not, healthy or not. I can't even begin to group together other cancer fighters who get married WHILE they're fighting cancer, with myself, because they're on a different level than I am. All I can do is find strength in myself from learning about their stories.
Every girl dreams about her wedding day since she was little. When I was a little girl, I envisioned my wedding day as this huge day, with lots of flowers and people surrounding me. And that's all I could ever picture; it all seemed too big to imagine. But every girl dreams about her wedding day, for pretty much her whole life. Me included. And I, probably like these other women, never imagined they'd be getting married "this way" - as in fighting cancer, or lacking something because of cancer. I never thought only having one breast would be an issue at my wedding. How could I imagine that, at 10 years old, at 22 years old? But turn the tables a little. I never imagined I'd ever become this strong, and this blessed. And that my life would turn out this happy-ending-y.
It's such a little, tiny sentence: life is what you make it. But it is. Those words have so much more meaning. No, I didn't want any of this to happen while I was planning my wedding and I didn't want to have to wear a prosthesis on my wedding day. But BECAUSE of all this, I am better. A little shaken, a little broken, a little anxious, a little scared, in pain, tired, exhausted, stressed. But I am better. I am a better me. Today. And tomorrow. And March 31. I'll keep changing. I'll keep evolving. Through the difficult times I'll be better.
Bad things happen. All the time. To everyone. What makes us better, though, is not so much about becoming stronger or learning or growing. It's about WANTING, with all your might, to be better, no matter how long it takes. It is our desire to be better. It is our trying, every day, with all of our heart and soul. Better doesn't happen overnight; it's a process.
For me, it is physically moving my body through the debilitating pain I've felt since May. Lifting my right arm above my head, as much as I can, even though it makes my cringe from the pain. Even though it causes my chest to spasm, where I had the breast removed, expander in, expander out, implant in, implant out.
It is feeling pain every time I reach for the popcorn on the top shelf of the pantry, or lift my arm to put my hair in a ponytail. But I have hair.
The looking really, really hard inside myself to find the beauty in only having one breast on my wedding day. The effort in finding balance, and adapting to this new life, this new diagnosis, every day. To seeing myself as a bride, and in the future, as a wife. With a life. Full, happy, blessed. I do have a full, happy, blessed, life. Today I am healthy and I thank G-d every day for that. Not a day goes by that I don't think about that, or pray for the health and safety of my loved ones.
Every day is work. Working at being better and getting better.
Sure, I'm a special bride. But aren't all brides?
Everyone has their own challenges, struggles and pain. But we are so lucky and so blessed that life moves on, despite all that. Weddings still happen. People still get married. And I will too.