Pushing through

I have to admit, these last few days in the truck have been really difficult.  My body isn't recovering as quickly as I'd like and bouncing around is wreaking havoc on my insides.  Before I came back to work, I weaned off the Percocet I was given for pain and started taking Alieve and ibuprofen instead.  It hasn't been as effective, though I was sure I could make it through a few days.  Boy was I wrong.  I ended up needing my roommate to overnight my prescription to me because the pain became unbearable.

I started thinking about the great many times I've pushed myself through painful times in the past, both physical and emotional.   How often I forced myself to endure because I'd been taught to believe 'giving up' was wrong.  If I gave up, I wasn't giving God my best.  Strange how I wasn't taught that abusing myself was wrong since my body 'is the temple of The Holy Spirit'.  I wonder how many long term issues (physical and psychological) could have been avoided had someone considered teaching balance rather than all or nothing.

It's difficult for me to say 'I can't' to something if I know I have the ability.   After all, while growing up it was disrespectful or lazy or selfish to say "no" to someone.  Even now, I'll let myself be pulled in every direction rather than risk disappointing someone by not doing what was asked.  Perhaps its time to start risking the disappointment of others and a little better care of me.  Taking time to heal or rest isn't always being selfish...  pushing through isn't always heroic.  I think I might learn to like the word balance!

Back to work

I got back on the truck today and I must admit, I'm hurting more than I expected.   The bouncing around is rather difficult.   Normally, I sleep well when the truck is moving, but find myself wanting to cry.  I pray this passes quickly.

As much as I love my job,  I'm finding my heart longs for a different path.  Perhaps the knowledge of not being able to have children has made the desire greater, but I'm wanting to put my time and energy into a family instead of a job.  Such thoughts bring back the wondering how life might have been had my growing up years been different. 

I cannot wait to start feeling like myself again.  All this time to think takes its toll. 

Grieving

As I think back on the day, I find myself thinking about some of the things I've lost over the years.  Some of those things are what would be considered normal; the passing of loved ones, friendships growing apart etc.  Some are found in dreams not realized, paths not taken and results from every day decision making.  Some however, are found in circumstances entirely beyond our control, and these keep rolling through my mind.

I suppose the reminiscing started the couple of months before last weeks surgery.  The realization that I will not have children of my own has been a grieving process in and of itself, but opened the gates to other never's in my life.

The pains of my abusive childhood robbed me of many things as a young adult, and probably still does to some extent.  I was too afraid of people to experience 'puppy love' in junior high and high school.  Looking back, I think missing out on teen romances hindered my ability to form more lasting relationships as I got older.  I never developed the skills.  The foundation usually built during that age escaped me, and I didn't learn tools like give and take, conflict resolution and mending a broken heart until, well, the last few years.  Many people, through 'normal relationship comings and goings' wounded me deeply; and I am sure I've wounded others by my overreaction to the losses and perceived abandonment.

My childhood stole my innocence and carefree spirit, and created a perfectionistic, demanding adult.  Many of the people in my life have been hurt by my inability to bend and belief that my way was the only way.  (Thank God for grace, and bringing people into my life to teach me otherwise)  What it cost in lost relationships due to my unwillingness to relinquish control I may never know.  Perhaps my "home, husband, 2.3 children and dog" were among those I drove away out of fear.

Another of the many things I lost as a victim of abuse was my ability to trust those around me.  I lived in a 'take it or leave it' environment.  My mom's side of the family has, for the most part, left it.  My harsh attitudes and fear made it difficult for those in my life at that time to get inside the walls I'd built for self protection, and eventually, most of them stopped trying.  I am the oldest of 11 siblings:  I interact with 5 and have a real relationship with only 1.  My mother and aunts are more acquaintances than family.  My uncles, and the majority of my extended family have written me off.  Their reasoning... most likely due to the 'unpardonable sin' of having girlfriends rather than boyfriends as an adult.

It's difficult knowing the actions of others in my life has created so much loss.  Not getting to watch 12 (so far) of my nieces and nephews grow up, missing out on the lives of my siblings, knowing I'll not have a child of my own:  these are painful indeed.  For so many years I put on an "I don't care, it's their loss" attitude and locked away the grief.  But I'm realizing these last several weeks that looking at the pain and admitting it exists is not weakness.  Letting down my guard and crying with people I know I can trust does not mean I'm not strong.  I'm finding by letting the poison of the past go and giving my heart time to heal creates more room to love those who are in my life.

Results

I called the doctor again this afternoon, and was able to speak to her.  She told me the biopsy results were normal and then we discussed options for managing my pain.  The first choice will be shots and if that doesn't help, I'll move on to a slightly more invasive solution.

God is faithful, and honored the prayers of myself and all those who've been lifting me up during this event.  I'm so grateful He's not the god I grew up believing in!

The Unknown

This is the third night now I haven't been able to sleep.  A lot is on my mind I suppose.

I didn't worry about results from the biopsy when I first found out it needed to be done.  The surgery itself kept my mind pretty occupied.  Knowing I would have no control over what was happening to me created enough preoperative fear.

Now though, I find myself searching the internet for websites about uterine cancer, signs and symptoms of it, the different stages of cancer, how the disease might progress,  treatment options and the list goes on.  Though this is not the first time I've experienced this wait, I seem to be experiencing more dread at this point in my life.  I know full well God is in control and that He will see me through each battle.  I have confidence in His plan and don't fear the thought of death.  However, I can't shake the 'you got lucky the first time' feeling.

Control is a difficult issue for me, especially when I don't believe I have any.  So much of my life spun out of control for too many years.  Not knowing what's happening to my own body is a frightening thing.  Experiencing side effects to a 'simple surgery' performed almost a week ago has my mind playing the what if game.  What if the reason I feel more pain is because something really is wrong with me?  What if something happened during the surgery I don't know about?  What if the biopsy comes back malignant?  What if I need to have another surgery?  What happens with my job?  What happens with the move I'm preparing for?  What if I'm just a sap and there's nothing wrong with me at all?  What if the pain I feel is just in my mind?

The unknown is a place I have no control.  It does not bend to my will or care about the affect it has on my heart and mind.  And yet, it consumes my thoughts.  This issue has brought that fact to light; but makes me wonder how much of myself I hand over to the unknown places.

Another Surgery

I found myself having some medical issues a few weeks ago, which led me to needing surgery last week.  I haven't gotten the results from the biopsy, but I've been spending a lot of time thinking about the possible outcomes.

Quite obviously, I really don't want to find out I have cancer.  I've been through that once, and once was too much.  Unfortunately, as hard as I try, I can't seem to stop myself from playing scenarios in my mind.

I suppose I should admit to not being opposed to having some small thing wrong; I'd like not having a uterus and ridding myself of the discomforts that come with it.  But I found myself wondering what my family would do if it turned out I was sick.  Those that live near me have very little to do with me.  Would an illness change things?

I remember when my aunt was diagnosed with brain cancer more than a decade ago now.  I drove straight through from Florida to Maryland when she had surgery.  My work schedule didn't allow me to stay long, less than a day actually. All I knew though, was that my aunt was sick, and I wanted her to know I loved her.

My dad's side of the family has been told of my recent medical issues, and are praying.  They drop me a line on Facebook to let me know they're thinking of me.  My mom's side doesn't even know I needed to see a doctor let alone surgery and a biopsy.  Most of them live less than half an hour from me but we haven't spoken in months.  Would that change if the diagnosis is serious?