I was just falling asleep when my alarm went off this morning at 5:45. I had made a mental note yesterday to turn off the “school morning” alarm in my phone, but like all the mental notes I make these days, I forgot about it. Despite yesterday’s good news, I had a bit of an emotional day. Taking a shower and getting dressed exhausted me, and I had a headache most of the day. My husband and son took our old Wii game console and all the games and accessories to GameStop and my clever, sweet boy negotiated a $51.00 cash offer in trade. While they were gone, I turned on Love, Actually and promptly fell asleep on the couch.
I guess if you add the afternoon nap to the rough night, it somehow evens itself out.
I have five more tests/procedures on the calendar between now and surgery and at least two more doctor appointments to make. I need to get clearance from my primary care doctor for the surgery and schedule a pre-op with the breast surgeon. Every time I speak to a medical professional, one more thing gets added to the mix. I am reminded at every turn how “big” this surgery is — whether I want to be or not.
I’m trying hard to stay present, to be in the moment, but inside my head, I’m drowning. It’s more than I can process. I don’t want this to be my life. When my primary care doctor returned my call yesterday, she asked how I was doing. I told her that I’m stuck in this weird gap between denial and acceptance, between this-must-be-some-mistake and okay-what’s-next. I am diligently moving forward, managing the appointments and the paperwork and the follow-up, but my brain is almost three weeks behind me, lingering in a pre-diagnosis place.
But tonight is Christmas Eve. And I will be in the warm embrace of dear and treasured friends. My son woke up this morning with a huge grin on his face. I want the day to go slowly, the evening to linger, I want to soak it all in. I want to find my Christmas, to hold it close, to simply be in the company of people I love.
I can give myself that, at least.