I’m not a fan of cancer. Who is? I feel sorry for people who have it as their astrological sign. I hate saying the word. I know Martin does have it…but at this point I’d rather be mad at him than believe it could do to him what it did to my father who after being diagnosed was gone within 4 months. Daddy had big, mean, ugly cancer. Martin’s is like a little black ant compared. It can be squished and disappear as fast as it came.
In an effort to distract myself this morning I decided it was time to do the bills for the month. I sorted them out. There were a bunch of medical ones from when I had my physical done last month. I’ve been avoiding those too. I don’t have the greatest of health insurance plans and have to pay hundreds of dollars every time I see a doctor. I figured they were all bills. I didn’t want to see them.
But my mammogram was part of my regular physical and that was supposed to be completely covered so the envelope from the health imaging center pissed me off. I tore it open to find a letter. Not a bill. Oh Great….I know I’m a Christian but I didn’t say oh great. It was more like, “oh shit.” and that just means poop….so I think I’m ok with me saying that.
Anyway…my regular, routine, first time ever mammogram indicated abnormalities and a report was sent to my doctor who will make me schedule an appointment to find out what it said. And the imaging center wants me to call them to schedule a new set of images.
I’m in the best health of my life. Other than me losing weight at alarming rates due to lack of appetite and no eating which is completely typical for me when I’m under emotional stress…there is nothing wrong with me.
There was a lump under my arm for a while but it was painful and it went away. They say if they are painful they are just swollen lymph nodes due to a cold – WHICH I had.
So other than the money this is going to suck out of my bank account just in time for Christmas and the New Year I am not overly concerned.
But still…seriously. Bad things keep happening it seems. I’m like a magnet lately.
I feel like a paper bag from the grocery store that has been packed way too full. There is no way a paper bag can possibly hold that much weight. It’s more than likely going to rip open if you carry it normally. So you don’t.
And my life is anything but normal these days. I can’t act normal, I can’t be normal. I have to go around with my arms carefully placed under the bag so everything doesn’t get tossed everywhere. Cause one false move and I’m just going to crack up and seriously lose it.
So I’m trying to be kind to myself. I’m giving myself a break when I lose my keys and have to clean my room to find them. I’m not reading the 8 emails I’ve gotten from Martin today. I’m taking it easy. I’m letting H.S. Guy tell me he thinks I’m beautiful. I’m going on a hike tomorrow with a girlfriend. And I’m definitely praying a lot.
I’m not obsessing over the thought of a battle with cancer ,or losing my boob, or losing my life.
That sleep mode on the computer is sounding better right about now though. I have entertained the thought of typical coping mechanisms used to escape. I know they don’t work and usually bring on more trouble than they help. I’m not stupid. So no sex, drugs, or any of that other stuff for me.
But maybe just a hug would be good. From somebody. I think I could use a hug.