Moving on

I may regret writing this.

It is 10:15 and I was just laying in bed feeling like Tom Cruise in Jerry McGuire, like I just had to get it out. I have so much to get out I can't type fast enough. This is one of those times that shows the inner soul that most don't see. I'm not sure where to begin.

I thought I was going to die.

I really thought that. Not all the time, but some of the time. I told myself that I wasn't, that I had to think only positive, that it was ridiculous to think any other way. But, in those dark night hours, I went there. I thought I was going to miss everything that I dreamed of seeing and doing. I thought I was going to leave my daughter without a mother, my husband without a wife and so on. The thought pained me like I hope to never feel again. It pains me now to think back.

You see as I wrote earlier, before I knew the outcome, you can't help but going there. You don't even know for sure what is going on, but the possibilities are enough. They are enough to make your mind wander. Make your mind wander to places that it never should. Not at 31. Not with a baby. Not yet.

When I found out that I was going to be okay, that it was nothing, it was surreal. The doctor didn't even flinch, he acted like it was no big deal. He says, "oh by the way, I got your results just now, they are all benign". I almost didn't understand what he was talking about. If my sister wouldn't have started clapping I might not have. I really like my doctor, but I wanted to strangle him when I thought about it on the way home. Are you kidding me? Oh by the way, the last month of hell you have been through, no biggie, it's nothing. Seriously? However, I was in so much pain from this surgery, that I made all the phone calls, "no cancer everyone" and I went home to take some pain pills and go to bed.

I didn't really come out of the fog of pain until yesterday, and then I was so glad that I wasn't in constant and terrible pain that I didn't yet really process the news. I went through all the emails congratulating us, thanking God and the rest. I read them all, I heard the voicemails, I knew it in my head, but it hadn't hit my heart yet. One email I got made me think, it was from a dear friends mother. She said (after the part about how happy they were that I was okay), "the whole ordeal will leave it's mark, though, needing recovery time. Please make sure you take the time you need. You may begin to feel pretty impatient about getting back to some normalcy. It may not happen for awhile. It is a wonderful opportunity to reflect."

When I read that email I remember thinking, what is she talking about? No big deal, I'm fine, I'm going to be okay, it's all over, I'm moving on, this isn't going to take me any time. I had no idea what she meant until about 2 hours ago. I was watching a tv show about different people's lives and all of the sudden this emotion just overtook me. Literally made tears roll down my face. The relief, the pain, the fear, the anger, the everything just rolled down my cheeks. I couldn't stop it. Even now as I sit here my stomach has that pit you have when something big is going on in life.

The relief truly is unimaginable. You see, even though I let myself go to those dark thoughts, I really did think I was going to be okay in the end. But the thought always remains in the back of your mind, nagging at you to entertain it, will I really be okay? And just like that, after a month of trying to ignore the thoughts, everything is okay. I get to go back to the way it was the day before I felt the lump. I suppose you never really go back though. I'll always look back on this time and use it in an attempt to not take for granted the wonderful life I have.

I think it may take some time though. I think my friends mom was right. I think it takes some time to center yourself again in day to day life without all the thoughts that were clouding that for what seemed like forever.