The last few days I've been dreaming about my throat. I think part of this is because I sometimes have this feeling of something in my throat being swollen, and I find swallowing feels very weird and not efficient, for lack of a better description. I'm trying to figure out which doctor I'm supposed to tell about this. Kind of waiting to talk with my endocrinologist on the 31.
Last night I dreamed that the denser tissue under my scar had swollen and that I realized that the doctor had left some gauze inside my wound when she did my surgery, and that it was now growing infected and "needed to come out". What am I holding back? I woke up searching for the thing that's sitting there, needing to be said. As I write this, I feel like I know what it is. Bugger.
The night before, I dreamed that I had woken up and that my voice (which is now basically fully recovered) had gone, and that I was back to having my voice hampered and silenced. It felt almost like because I hadn't used it properly, my voice was taken away from me.
I have developed a sort of performance 'awareness', in that if I don't write about something related to cancer, I'm not writing about the 'right' thing. Even though I know that a lot of this healing process has to happen on levels other than just physical, I feel in some way like I'm straying too far into the 'woo woo'. At the same time, this is where I'm truly at- and I also notice that I am becoming increasingly more introverted.
I don't even know what to think about this. I don't like it. I will ride it out and do my best not to resist but it's VERY hard. I don't like how hard it seems right now to balance my relationships. I am hoping very much that this is temporary, but I will roll with it as it comes.
I did something today that I don't think I could have done a few months ago- I made a public proclamation (well, on Facebook) that I am not booking time with anyone else right now. I really can't bear it- the calendar, the worries about taking too much time away from my family, the 'trappings' that come along with it (do I bring a dish? how long should I stay? did I pack a snack for eidie? what if my car breaks down?) - it's all too much.
I feel myself stripping off the extra things like taking off clothes. However, I'm looking forward to getting back to births. A lot. For a while I was feeling like even that was too much and unsure I could even do it- and then this swell rose inside of me and I feel like it's where some of my healing will be done, it will be just the right place for me to be. I am good at holding space, and I am good at leaving my stuff aside- and the beauty of that open space is getting filled up by the intensity, inspiration, strength and honesty of a laboring woman. That is good medicine, and I am looking forward to discovering who I am in that space, now that all this is woven into the tapestry of me.
I'm also getting increasingly nerviously anxiously happy about going to Africa. For a bit the idea of waiting until January was quite appealing and it turns out that it's a go- and on September 24th I'll ride out with my colleagues, who will morph into becoming my friends, into the..... wild? heart? Yes, into the Wild Heart. I am working to let go of the idea that it will be the 'last' of my transformation and that I will get some kind of break from all of this intensity. I am laughing that I even have the balls to write it in black and white, because I know better. Boy, do I know better.
I told Cyndi today that I thought that my trip to the Redwoods would be my medicine, front to back- go, come back, be changed, go on with life, and we laughed about that.
Turns out every day is a Medicine Walk. Every day.