Reacting

I need an outlet for the thoughts that keep swimming through my head.  The thoughts that kept me up half the night last night, and the thoughts I keep pushing away only to have them return with a vengeance.  I have been through a lot in the past week, and it's a long, long wait until this is officially over.  I want to be at the end of this, and I'm stuck right in the middle.  The days have slowed down, but sped up at the same time.  My life has slowed down, but I feel like it's moving too quickly.  Complete oxymoron, I know.

Last Wednesday was going great and I was in high spirits.  I was expecting lab results from the doctor that day, and I knew I had nothing to worry about.  Until they called.  It was very strange - they didn't seem worried at all until I got that call, and the urgency with which the nurse told me I would need a biopsy sent a pulse of adrenaline coursing through my veins.  The brief moments that she put me on hold were a lifetime, and all I could think about was calling Dustin.  I didn't think I was scared until those words came flying out of my mouth the second I got him on the phone, and the tears followed with no restraint.  Of course, this was the day I decided to wear makeup, and it went straight into my eyes.  I quickly packed up my things and left the office, knowing I'd have to go home to an empty house for a few hours and just sit there, but it seemed better than staying at work and not being able to focus on anything else.

As I drove, everything around me seemed to exist in a parallel-type existence.  It's hard to explain.  I almost felt like I was floating along the freeway.  Things looked different.  They felt different.  I cried and then I just stared.  I'm glad I made it home considering the state of mind I was in.  I came home and just sat there, staring into space, trying to wrap my mind around the looming possibility of that word that encompasses so much.  I wouldn't, and still haven't let it enter my mind or my speech.  Part of me thinks I'm in denial, or just too afraid that if I speak it, it will become real, when at this point in time it's just a possibility.  The one thought that just keeps running around up there, refusing to be ignored is simply this:  "I'm too young." To put it simply, I was completely shocked.  I honestly did not expect this to happen.

Dustin came home and we just lied on the bed together, talking about day to day things, trying to ignore what we knew we needed to talk about.  I think he somehow knows just what I need, because not talking about it calmed me - being in his presence calmed me.  If he wasn't so strong I don't know what I'd do.  I know he is worried, I could tell then and I can tell now, but he is strong, and he is what I need.  I'm so grateful for that.

It's amazing how when you live a positive life, those positive thoughts creep in without having to look for them - or maybe it's denial, who knows?  But I started to think, maybe it was a mistake.  Maybe it's not as bad as it sounds.  After all, we don't have an actual diagnosis - that's what the biopsy is for.  Maybe my blood is confused.  So I decided that I would push it out of my mind until I met with the doctor on Thursday afternoon.  I surprised myself by doing just that.  I made it through the work day and Dustin and I met at the hospital to discuss the findings and the need for a biopsy.

Dr. Parr's assistant gathered information and asked if I'd been having any pain, symptoms, etc. and then we met with Dr. Parr.  He said that basically what I've got is quite rare... to explain it in simple terms, I passed one test and failed another.  Most people either pass both or fail both.  So the biopsy will determine once and for all what this actually is.  I found myself surprisingly lucid, asking all the questions I felt needed to be asked, and how I know that the liver doesn't like to be poked and prodded.  Dr. Parr agreed with me, and told me about the risks of bleeding.  He seemed confident that since I'm so healthy it shouldn't be a problem.  So we scheduled it for this coming Friday.  After speaking with him, I felt a lot more confident, or at least more knowledgeable about the situation, which made me feel better.  I have always said that knowledge lends to confidence.

On the way home, I told Dustin how I'd been feeling and processing - how everything looks different, almost like it's not real - like I'm still here and everything is the same, but there is some sort of dark cloud covering my world and I'm fighting to get out from under it.  I find myself staring up at the gorgeous mountains I've gotten to know over the years, and wondering if I'll get to continue climbing them.  I wonder what will happen to my business that I've worked so hard for, and I refuse to wonder what Dustin's life would be like without me.  It's easy for me to imagine inanimate objects, like the things I love to do.  But I can't let my mind take me further - to the people I love.  I refuse to think about it.

Dustin's family has been so great, offering hugs and kind words.  I seriously love them all so much.  Shelley asked me on Saturday night how I'm so strong, and I told her I don't know.  I saw my mom on Sunday, and somehow I think your mother always knows, even when you put on a good show for everyone else.  She gave me a hug and I think she saw that I didn't want to talk about it, but she later asked if I was feeling okay - she knew I wasn't.  Since Sunday, I've started a spiral of sorts.  I got sick yet again, and maybe it's my body's way of telling me that I am stressing about it whether I acknowledge it or not - I don't know.  So now I'm even more frustrated because I wanted nothing more than to put in a great week at work before going in on Friday, and I'm stuck at home because I know my health is the most important thing right now.  I have to be healthy for Friday, and it seems like everything is piling up on me.  I'm letting negativity creep in, and it's just not me.

So instead of acknowledging either end of the spectrum, I have been seeking a sort of escape - and being sick makes that a lot easier.  Maybe it's my body's way of signaling to me that I need to deal with this in my own way?  Who knows.  I don't normally share my feelings so openly, but it sure feels good to get it out of my system.

I know that there is good news waiting for me down the line - I just don't know if it's going to be this week, next week, or months from now.  There is that little thing called doubt just trying to make its way in... especially because the news last week was so unexpected.  What if that happens again?  I'm scared.  I'm not scared of fighting this fight if that's what I need to do - I know I can fight.  I'm scared of bad news.  I'm scared of not being able to live the life I want to, and I'm scared of leaving this life before I'm ready to.  I'm scared that it's so real to me right now, and I wish this obstacle would just pass.

And there is a part of me that is angry for letting myself react to the thoughts running around in my head.