Monday, May 05, 2014

A Sharp Left

April 23, 2013:  the day I had a biopsy and learned that I could have breast cancer.  The day that my lift too a sharp left turn in a world of rights.  I posted about it: Fear is real, but honest. Praying.

April 23, 2014:  I knew it was coming.  I had fleeting thoughts about it in the weeks leading up to that day.  But each time I'd think about it, I tried to dismiss the thought.  The day came and I got up and worked, just like I usually did.  I was behind, had a few things I was juggling, but worked.  I found myself starting into the screen at times and felt unsettled, almost like I was dreading something.

I had to run and errand and instead of eating lunch, I decided to get that done.  I bought things for dinner at the grocery store and returned home.  If Pete noticed that I was quiet, he didn't say much.  I tried to crochet after working, but that feeling of anxiety returned.  My heart races and I feel like I could jump form my skin.  As if jumping around or off a wall or something, would lessen the feeling I was having.

I started dinner and asked Pete to help with shredding potatoes.  I got dinner in the oven and tried to relax.  But that anxiety, it's like a dark shadow that follows you and avoiding it doesn't make it go away.  The timer went off and I took the dinner out of the oven.  Only instead of putting it on the stove to cool, I accidentally put it on a burner that had been turned on previously.  The glass pan got hotter.  Just writing about this, reliving it through getting it out; it's all giving me more anxiety.  When I set the pan aside, I called Pete in and he washed his hands for dinner.  Water must have dropped on the pan and it exploded - everywhere. 

That was it.  I immediately started crying and couldn't stop.  It was such a cliche thing to happen - the pan exploding and my emotions exploding.  But it got them out.  Pete didn't understand why I was crying until I explained it to him.  I tried so hard to just avoid the feelings and thinking about it.  When what I should have done is hit those feelings head on by talking about them.  By getting them out in words or even recording myself talking.  Valuable lesson. 

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