Saturday, October 26, 2013

MY MIND IS AWASH IN MULTIPLE THOUGHTS


We all react differently when we hear the doctor tell us, “We found a tumor that we want to have a look at as fast as possible.”
“Oh ok,” I thought.  That makes sense as to why I have been totally drained in energy, dragging my feet and crying a lot.  My muscles had started to become weaker and weaker again.  Asking for someone to carry the laundry basket downstairs sounded strange to my ears:  A very strong woman that lifted the world on her shoulders, who survived so much in life.  Now, apparently, she has to survive again.

“It cannot be that my spirit chose a short life to inhabit,” I thought to  myself as I drove home.  Me, who loves life more than anything.
My children are my life.  Because of them, I am constantly in love.

“Universe, this cannot be correct, right?”  I have just started my journey.  I still have so many projects to finish --- and to start.  I have so many good-night kisses to give and to get.

Ah… nah!  Of course I am going to survive this challenge.  I have so much left in me.  And for me.

The next moment, while I am finishing drinking my tea, I think of those people who don’t enjoy life, and so fervently want to end it.  Please come to me, I will change places with you!

What am I thinking?!  Stop this conversation in my head.  
If you have to talk, talk beautiful to me, I try to tell my brain.

Yet again, I have to change things in my life.  Ok, let me see if Amazon has some great books that can teach me more about changing my diet.  But I cannot eat!  I haven’t been eating much for over one month.  2 avocados and some crackers each day, two liters of water,  some green tea.  It doesn’t seem like much at all.  And I am not losing weight, which should be good, right?

My children don’t know every thing that is going on with my health, and I want it that way.  Of course they see and they have an amazing ability to read my eyes.  Some days I need to take a one-hour rest.  Some days they understand this and let me rest.  Some days they are as frustrated as I can be in my own head.  “Mom, you always take a nap!”  Guilty, feelings wash over me, so I try to do resting while sitting up instead.

I do the meditation, and I try to stay positive. The hardest for me --- and where I fail the most --- is towards my husband.  He battles his owns demons and frustrations, and he is from a background where he was tought a different way of thinking, feeling and emoting.   To those who don’t know him, he can come off cold and uncaring.  At my low points, I forget the real him I have seen and fell in love with, and start to think he doesn’t care.  But of course he does. 

Yesterday after I got the news from the doctor, I laughed.  And yes, I actually laughed when I read my husband’s text while sitting in the waiting room:  “I am having such a bad cough,” he texted.

A cold for him is, “I am dying! Take me seriously!”

Quickly, I noticed a different thinking wash into my mind:  I need more humor in my life.  Maybe that is why some patients with serious illness make sarcastic, ironic, tragically funny jokes.  People around them can’t understand their ability to make light of their situation.   These people don’t realize it is not only an ability to affect “gallows humor,” it is a necessity.  They can’t let the disease take that from them, so they don’t.

My doctor didn’t think I was very funny when I handed him an AWL flyer with our work --- a happy Hospice, the team and me. I gave it to him so that maybe he could understand what kind of person I am, and maybe it make him want to work harder to cure me.  I want my life back!

He was impressed when he heard about our hospice for seniors.  I nodded “yes” in agreement, and my eyes got the sparkle.  “Maybe should go down and become a Hospice patient,” I said, “it seems like the dogs we bring in get healed quicker than I do.”

It was a joke, but to the serious Professor, it probably sounded quiet stupid.

Oh well, lets take care of the time and do something useful now.
As a woman and mother I am determined to get my life back.

The bells ring, the bugle calls.  Time to start the fight!

That’s Fighting Amore!

PS My husband is the first one to read before publishing anything. He actually added the sentences about himself since I cannot know his inner thoughts. //Mia

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