I’m the age my mom was when she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
how in the world did she deal with that? I was 7, her mother had just died and she was going through or had just gotten divorced. talk about a full plate.
what did she think when she looked at me? how did she survive and more than that, live through it? what did she do when she left the doctors office? who was her first phone call? did she cry?
looking at my wonderful husband and the 2 sweetest boys ever… the thought of leaving them…
I can’t finish the thought.
I’m 34. what if I have it? a sharp pain in my arm. a powerful headache. an unexplained stomach pain. what if I’m walking around with a ticking time bomb in me?
it may seem like I’m blowing it out of proportion but I know about metastatic cancer. I watched it hurt and ultimately kill my mom. her legs hurt, her arm hurt, it was on her skull and in the end, in her lungs. the lungs are what finally killed her. but it was all breast cancer. it was those cells spread throughout her body hurting her.
it’s like mom who is nurse and has a sick kid, they know too much.
I didn’t have these thoughts until this year. 34 is the magic number.
I talked with my doc… you know, that doc. he spoke like a friend… a friend with amazing empathy and knowledge. a friend free of judgement and full of time. not sure how he does that but he does.
I’m not crazy, he said so. it’s normal and I won’t feel like this forever… I might not even feel like this next year.
I’ll keep handing it over to God because I can’t do this on my own. every arm pain, every headache, every unexplained stomach pain… I’ll turn the fear and the anxiety over to God.
I won’t let it control me.
but I am looking forward to 35.