The nice thing about all of this is that since I know what's ahead, pretty much regardless of whether I have cancer and whether or not it's metastasized, I know what the care trajectory is. It's pretty much a menagerie of surgery, radiation, and watching. It can come in many orders, it can come more than once, but that's pretty much it. Let's face it, we're talking about a cancer with a very high 90+% survival rate, even with recurrence. (It's still cancer, there fear that you will be in that minority still very much exists, especially after you think you would never get cancer, and then you do. Suddenly, everything is on the table.)
I told my aunt that I am 'defenseless'. When something lands on me, I burst into tears and cry like no one's watching, it doesn't seem to matter where I am anymore. I don't have the high walls that I used to hide my tears behind in place anymore, this whole adventure has knocked them solidly down. In the middle of those spaces, I feel really happy- lucky - blessed- full - different - changed - loved - valued - transitional - joyful.
I can't say I'm depressed. I have hard days, many of which I share here. But mostly this last week or so, I'm having great days. Not just good days, but great days, where everything seems possible, and where I just feel happy about getting to do the basic things like vacuum my floor or have dinner ready before Randy gets home. These things tickle me and make me feel pleased with myself. Sitting with my birth center partners and letting the challenge of working with a new group wash over me, but not silence me, I get to just enjoy the process. I get to be present, and I get to choose to let the moment fill me up, rather than break me down. I can't choose it all the time, but I can choose it now, and I am.
When my daughter climbs in bed with me in the morning and rubs her legs against mine, and our skin feels so good together as her hair covers my pillow and she kisses my nose until I wake up, or when the boys come home from school and think to ask me how my day was, or even hug me for a long time, thank me for cooking dinner, when my husband's face lights up when he sees me - these are the moments that make up the rich colors of my life. The other ones do too, the hard ones, but these ones dominate.
We really are all things. All things.