One of the hardest parts of writing again after a long absence is where to start. Do I go back and catch you up on all the things you’ve missed? Do I jump right in and start writing?
I’m going to do a combination of both. I’ve only written intermittently since 2012 so there is too much to catch you up on. Just know that for the most part it was a pretty good 5 years. There was a rough patch with Sweet Hope and then the stress of starting a new career and moving, but other than that it was good.
a good place.
Let’s be honest. I still am in a good place. Or at least I’d like to think so. I opened the door to let the dog out and a blast of sunshine streamed through. Outside it is blue and green and birds are singing and I get to leisurely have my coffee. If every day were like this my state of mind would be off the chart happy.
Unfortunatly I don’t get that luxury. I have some dark days ahead. I’m being honest. I’m scared as shit.
So that recap.
I’m just going to tell a quick story about how all this came about. Everyone asks.
Last Fall I was conducting a routine self breast exam. (If you don’t do those you should… they can save your life).
As young women we are taught to do this, but we aren’t always taught what to feel for. I’ve heard something that feels like a hard pea. I’ve heard, “well, you’ll know.” I wasn’t sure. Something felt off. I kept checking and a while later I asked my husband his opinion.
He was of the mindset that I should get it checked out. I was of the mindset that I hate the doctor’s office. That and my doctor is located an hour south of us (since the move). Did I mention this was right befor Christmas. Last time I went to the doctor at Christmastime he told me I needed to have a hysterectomy.
Of course I put it off.
Of course he kept pestering me.
He got to say, “I told you so.”
Doc thought it was just a fluid filled cyst. Pictures showed otherwise. When the ultrasound technician says, “the next steps are that the radiologist will review the images and then come in and talk to you,” you know it’s not a good sign.
That happened. The radiologist came in and said some words that included, “something we don’t like,” “needle,” “biopsy,” “cancer.”
If had to wait an agonizing 5 days between the biopsy and the results. Both radiologists had prepared me for the bad news. We went into the results appointment knowing it was cancer so there was no big shock… except there was. No one wants to hear they have cancer. No one wants that confirmation.
So on February 15, 2017, I became a Breast Cancer Warrior. I didn’t want that. I still don’t want that. I want to go back to opening the door in the morning and seeing the light shine through. I want to leisurely drink my coffee on a Saturday morning. I want to plan my summer vacation and commit to things.
Instead, I’m going on this trip this year.
Hey, thinking of you and keeping you in prayer.
I’ve watched the cancer warrior with your Aunty. You have lots of soldiers to hold you up when the sun SEEMS to be a little less bright, but let’s get something straight…. my girl has fire and spunk and no fubered cells will be able to stop her! I love you!