BIOPSY REPORT

Wednesday morning—

Matthew, my Midwestern nephew, and his wife, Melissa, FaceTimed us, so their boys could thank us for their Hanukkah presents—they’re SO adorable!  Jordan (3) sang Oh Hanukkah for us followed by Josh (5) closing their show by being the loudest clapper ever in the whole wide world!  Too funny!

Other than having been thoroughly entertained by this pair of munchkins, I chose to spend most of yesterday, cocooned, as most of the previous night had seen my ‘safe bubble’ of numbness holding strong emotion at bay until my sensitivity to inner tension filtering through my pores led me to experience a wakefulness too fidgety to fall asleep, even when aided by Ambien.

Then last night, thinking to hit the hay and sleep well, I surprised myself by feeling more awake than any night following in the wake of last week’s biopsy.

As to Will, he’d stuffed lots of apprehension behind his poker face, because, having read the biopsy report, aloud, my stoic husband and then, David, burst into tears while I, sitting quietly atop the comforter on our king size bed, observed the spontaneity of their emotional reactions though mine went unrevealed—even to me.  You see, it matters not how much we believed the tumor and all of the misery associated with its cure would not repeat—seriously, after experiencing this last year, any chance of my reliving chemo, surgery and another recovery before my bout with this one is complete, was actually more terrifying than I’d allowed myself to feel until my denial of repressed tension proceeded to seep out of my subconscious, two nights running.

I still don’t want to talk about the results, positive as they proved to be—in fact, while writing this post, I’m experiencing the release of deeply suppressed, tightly coiled tension, which, though healthy over the long run, does not feel good in real time, being that this fidgety release of emotional distress directly opposes the preservation of peacefulness, which, as you know, I strive to maintain, day after day.

Late on Tuesday, just before my biopsy report was received on Will’s iPhone and mine (via Mayo’s app) I wondered why—if no one has a clue as to how the original tumor began to grow inside me, why couldn’t it be likely that another one is doing that very same thing, right now.  Pow! That boulder, landing smack in the middle of my forehead, fired up a headache so heart stopping that my advanced degree of self control could not quell pain pounding away inside my brain until Will and David, appearing in my bedroom, simultaneously, saw David (now standing frozen in place) staring at Will while we both watched my husband advance toward my side of our king size bed with cell phone in hand until his voice, slicing through the silence hanging heavy in the air, was heard to say—OMG! Several times before he began to recite my biopsy report aloud from beginning to end at which point his reaction poured forth from his depths on a natural flood of tears.  And though I’d hoped to join my husband and then our son by releasing suppressed emotion on an unexpected rush of tears streaming down my face, my fear was still so solidly blocked from conscious recognition as to have remained consolidated within the state of mental constipation.

Once we three had absorbed the fact that I’d tested cancer free, both David and I strongly suggested that the next time Will reads a medical evaluation aloud, he not gasp, followed by solemnly exclaiming, several times—OMG! before signaling us of good news rather than bad since his initial reaction scared the positive focus of hope out of both of us.

Yesterday’s appointment with my cardiologist at Mayo went well, as she answered several questions concerning my blood pressure plunging upon standing as well as offering me sound reason for the lagging nature of my physical energy—the former prompting her to advise me to up my intake of fluids to ten 8oz cups, every day, while wearing compression pantyhose—the latter prompting her to jot down an order for additional blood tests followed by suggesting that as my heart is not yet pumping blood as vigorously as had been true, pre-surgery, I need to increase the frequency of walks around my house and on my patio until threat of Covid has passed, releasing me to engage with a physical therapist.

More when next we meet, as I still feel emotionally drained, though mental numbness is waining, today.

On an up note that I can feel, David just offered my spirit reason to laugh aloud by sauntering into my room, having exchanged his short, scruffy homegrown Covid beard for a freshly shaved face with handle bar mustache tickling my funny bone as well as his nose—definitely a first in our family—not the mustache but rather the handlebar aspect of it.

During this time of mindfully connecting the uncoiling of repressed tension, Covid vaccine distribution and discharging the most dishonorable, forked tongued, deplorable President ever elected by the people of The United States of America—our nation, though stubbornly divided, is about to round the corner where the light at the end of the tunnel, held high within the hand of sane leadership, is bound to beckon brightly to the intelligence of more people than ever before suggesting that though the climb toward the summit of peace of mind may prove jaggedly steep, our national government’s division of power is, once again, on its way toward refortifying its sense of balance, politically, and with today’s intuitive train of thought in mind, common sense suggests the best is yet to come, individually!🙋🏻‍♀️❣️

🙋🏻‍♀️Annie

Thursday—

Good morning,

I’ve come to believe that observers, whose loved one has been blessed with good news after experiencing a lengthy life-threatening illness simmering within a briny broth of unbearable physical miseries, assume that worrisome fears, deeply repressed, simply emerge and pop like a hot air ballon, releasing tinsel-like fairy dust, overhead, as if life’s greatest strifes stride straight toward happily ever endings as with animated Pixar cartoons, when deeper truth suggests that today’s bout with emotional exhaustion having bared repressed layers of fear, see my brave smile relaxing so completely thanks to this week’s biopsy report offering words of relief, freeing my staunch shield of inner strength to experience a melt down so as to completely expose my naked vulnerability, at last—to myself.  And if you choose to seek me out, today, here is what you’ll find—a puddled version of the strong spirited person you (and I) believe me to be, who feeling free of deeply worried tension, long repressed, has need to do little more than ask bravery to sit quietly in a time out chair, releasing all of me to fully experience this emotional melt down, long coming.

So while I still feel too emotionally drained to discuss or rejoice over news of the biopsy’s being benign, upon resting with sufficiency, I’ll bet my readiness to celebrate will reawaken, naturally, given time to reorient my well practiced, self disciplined peace of mind, which continues to serve me well by holding hysteria at bay until the nerve wracking reality of undergoing each test for sarcoma offers yet another cancer free report.

As for now, I truly appreciate your patience with the ramblings of my mind, being that the more I write, the more I come to understand myself in depth, and the more completely self awareness comprehends the complexity of natural reactions handled by my processor, the more deeply I come to understand the nature of defensive reactions, which proving classic and universal, the world over, better my capacity to embrace both sides of human nature pre-programmed to interact together as would a complex machine that’s in need of resolving the timeless puzzle of piecing together contradictory traits that create the whole of each human being.

As I’d felt numb when Will and then David broke down, my stoic reaction seemed little more than weirdly observant of theirs ... however, now that my intuitive understanding of emotional complexity has re-emerged, my intelligent thought processor has switched tracks from seeing my initial response as ‘weird’ to identifying my naturally well trained self defensive’ peacefulness as having maintained a lack of outward reaction by unconsciously retaining my wall of denial, which had served me well while securing spiraling emotions from springing forth from subconscious storage so as to stop the conscious portion of my mind from spinning beyond self control, and having acknowledged that my self protective wall of denial, which having done its job well under pressure, has need of time to slough away, layer by layer, each of which had been erected, over more than a year’s time, this process of sloughing will continue to take place, naturally, for as long it takes to reveal my personal sense of relief, and thus will I be seen wobbling around our home as though my mind is self repairing from having wandered, ever more deeply into and throughout every harried, heavily medicated, semi drunken, hazy stage of Cancerland, where. though  buoyed by love, times exist when the person, being struck, repeatedly, by misery while walking through a lightening storm, can’t help but feel utterly dazed, crazed and alone until the Herculean weight of physical misery endured, repeatedly, eases up, little by little, so that having pocketed the magic of resilience, my half full cup begins to overflow, yet again, with courage born of positively focused, emotional balance re-energizing heartfelt leaps of faith grounded in boundless sensations of gratitude and love, which inspire the human spirit to soar so high through a blue, sunlit sky as to leave Cancerland buried in yesterday’s dust so bright doth the future, fueled by joy, feel, through and through—not there yet. but with clarity intact, that’s where I’m heading-yes-siree-bob!

🙋🏻‍♀️🧚‍♀️Annie

PS

Has it dawned on you that Cancerland resembles Candyland in that you can be only a step or so from achieving your heartfelt goal when the card you’re dealt sends your valiant piece/peace careening all the way down the board ... during their childhood, my sons never suspected how often their Mom sat on certain cards in hopes of bringing the most boring game in the world to a timely end so as not to lose my mind—so often did my trio of munchkins ask to play, again 🙋🏻‍♀️😊