Emotional Highs and Lows

Well, a year ago today I discovered my lump. A lot has transpired since that day. Little did I know at that moment what a rollercoaster journey I was going to embark on over the course of the year. Little did I know at that moment that I would never get a chance to talk to my Dad again. After spending the last 3 weeks at the hospital, and him not making much progress, I decided to take a much needed family day and go to the beach and rejuvenate with Tom and the kids just a little before heading into another sleepless week of more health questions than there were answers for. The rejuvenation process never happened that day though. As some of you may remember, I had been having pain in the side of my left breast on and off for a couple of months. My mind had gone numerous places when that pain wasn't going away. I kept thinking, "I'll deal with this later when things get back to normal with my Dad." But that morning I woke up with such an urgent feeling of needing to take this more seriously. Up until then, it had been something that would enter my mind and I could easily push aside. That morning, however, I really had this overwhelming feeling of something being wrong. As I showered and got ready for my day, I discovered my lump...an unavoidable lump that I couldn't just dismiss anymore. The only person that knew about this was Tom, and I hadn't even been really sharing it with him much either. Looking back, I feel that if I had spoken the words out loud what my mind was trying to sort through, it would have put too much certainty in something that I didn't want to exist. I didn't want him worrying, I didn't want the kids to have something else to be concerned with, and I didn't want my Mom feeling she had to take any focus off of helping my Dad recover. I sold this to myself well, so I thought. But there was no running from the truth that a cancerous tumor was growing in my body. I vowed to give it just a little more time to see if we could get my Dad stabilized first before I shared my concern and went to the doctor to get it checked out. Turns out, my Dad's condition didn't stabilize. That would in fact be the last day that he would have conversation with any of the family. My Mom and him had talked that day about him getting well, about our upcoming trip to Hawaii, and she had helped him respond to a letter Courtney had written him just a few days before. The next morning, his condition worsened, and he was getting ready to face more procedures and another heart surgery in the hopes it could help him turn around. They say God never gives you more than you can handle, but in those few days I wrestled with that truth as everything around me started spinning out of control. We lost my Dad 4 days later, on the 9th. This Saturday will mark one year with him gone. I can feel all the emotions of a year ago so clearly that I swear it was only yesterday. But then I can also reflect back over this past year and see all of the twists and turns that life has taken. Healthwise, I am doing well. I continue with periodic check ups, just finished physical therapy on my left arm (caused by very mild lymphedema), and am taking my Tamoxifen faithfully on a nightly basis. I would love to say something poignant on why all of this happened, and why the events played out as they did. But, truth is, only God knows His plan. Over the course of this year, I have just learned more that I need to learn to LISTEN to His plan. My experience has allowed me to meet so many wonderful people, reconnect with old friends, show compassion to those that face similar circumstances, and face each day with the hope that someday cancer will not affect so many. Wonderful advancements are being made, and that is exciting! Emotionally, I have good days and not as good. It is a wondeful feeling to be alive and celebrate the day-to-day life brings and mostly those are the days I have. But sometimes there are other days that I find myself wondering, "Now what?" As so many that have been through this before can attest, you spend so much time persevering and healing that you forget what it's like to live life in a carefree way. This diagnosis changes you, and normal is no longer, well, normal. A new normal isn't so bad, I just happen to be a "like the way things always have been" type of girl. I'm thankful for the opportunity to learn to embrace new things. I may just need a little practice at teaching the old dog some new tricks however. :)