During the days leading up to this week’s cancer surgery (the fourth within less than two years), I’d felt a combination of tension, numbness and anxiety. Rather than feeling a small palpable lump, waist-high in my back, I had a lump in my throat, which made talking so difficult that I initiated few conversations and used as few words as possible whenever answering others proved necessary.
During those days when I’d felt a disconnect from enjoyment, my appreciation of the human brain’s natural capacity to endure a highly complex state of mind deepened, offering me reason to have felt a spontaneous release from stress upon awakening in the recovery room to the sound of my surgeon’s voice saying—Annie, all went as expected.
And now—
I’m relieved that this fourth cancer surgery is over, because you never know what unwelcome surprise may be lurking around the next corner until the surgeon actually sees what’s happening inside.
I’m grateful that no unwelcome surprises showed themselves to Dr. Beamer’s naked eye. This small tumor was encapsulated, thank God!
Though we know this tumor is malignant, we await pathology results, anyway.
Thankfully, my anesthesiologist gifted me with an infusion of an iv pain med that lasts for a couple of days, so whatever moderate degree of physical discomfort I feel while moving around has been controlled by Tramadol, and other than feeling mentally woozy—I’m good.
Yesterday, we zoomed with Dr. Seetharam, my oncologist; however, my mind tires so quickly that I’ll ‘listen to my body’ and wait to explain the strategizing nature of my on-going cancer treatment in the next post published. Or perhaps, the post after that. In short—whenever I feel less loopy.
Hopefully, you can feel all of the positively focused energy that I inhale and exhale, daily. Not that I’m unrealistically hopeful for a cure but rather, I’m realistically hopeful of maximizing the energy necessary to resume my enjoyment of every single day.
🙋🏻♀️Annie
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