I mean it, though. I am very thankful for so much kindness and support. So much so that I also feel a level of guilt because there is such an outpouring of concern for me...and I don't feel that I'm necessarily in as much need.
Really. I feel great. (Ha ha, amazing what medicine can do, isn't it?)
I do. I am FINALLY feeling more back to normal health...sometimes you just don't even realize how poorly you felt until you feel better and look back. I think that's been a big factor in just having this cloud hang over my head this year. When you feel sick, everything seems more dreary.
Which is not to say that we've not had our challenges lately. We have.
And there have been times where I just kept begging for a break. A breather. Just something to be easy.
I hate that in that begging, what IS easy gets buried.
There is so much easy in my life.
Just mine for the taking if I just remember to realize it. All the time.
I purposely have NOT been googling much about all this cancer/cyst/estrogen reactive/genetic risk factors/mastectomy situation stuff because the decisions I need to make are too big for me to have water muddied by Dr. Google.
I choose health care so that I can trust my providers. If you can't trust your providers, you need to find new ones. I am thankful that I have access to excellent care. And, I'm thankful that I have had multiple opinions with various bits of information and perspective.
I had the MRI yesterday. Perhaps I should have googled that a bit more. I had no idea what to expect. I just figured it was kind of like a CT scan, and I have had lots of those.
Sorta. It was sorta like a CT scan.
I didn't realize there'd be need for an IV for contrast ( I don't love IVs) and I didn't realize it would be so tight.
I'm a smidgen claustrophobic. Plus, I had to lay on my stomach, and I (much like Luke) sort of choke when my neck is strained just so.
Like it was yesterday.
The nurse told me that they had a fabulous high-tech machine, but the downfall of it was that it was loud. (I'm still thinking that whirring, engine sound like in CT scans, but louder.) The tech asked me if I wanted music (couldn't be too loud if you could hear music, right?) and I said, "Sure." She asked me what kind I liked to listen to and I answered, "Ummmm...Christian? Or Motown? Whatever you've got."
And I climbed on. Got positioned. Started freaking a little bit, but kept my cool. Got the headphones on and heard Hillsong United singing Oceans (Where Feet May Fail). Thought, "Ok. I can do this...don't love it, but I can do it. Keep swallowing."
Then I went in. I lifted my head and realized I couldn't lift my head. Freaked out a bit more. Started to tear up, but the tech said I was doing great and the first scan would start....
Enter, in my head, the LOUDEST alarm-like sound I've heard in a long time. It scared the mess out of me. It's not this whirring noise...it's this horrible, loud, crazy scary alarm-like thing and I freaked out. It lasted about a minute (or eight hours, hard to tell) and then I was asked how I was.
I said, "Um, is it going to be like that the whole time?"
You can guess the answer.
So, while they kept saying they could take their time, and maybe I could get a xanax, I just said, "No. I need to get home. I'm tough. I'll do this."
I closed my eyes and just started praying. Prayed for God to take the fear. Prayed for God to give me peace. Prayed to stop shaking and crying.
Then it started again. This time, the volume of the music was louder, and I could hear the song.
"One Thing Remains" by Jesus Culture started. This song came out right before Matthew's 1st birthday. I was about 32 weeks with Luke, and remember feeling the lyrics in my soul:
"Higher than the mountains that I faceStronger than the power of the grave
Constant through the trial and the changeOne thing… Remains..."
I started crying. What were the odds that a song that was over several years old and so special to me would be played at the very minute I'm crying because I am afraid?
Instantly, I felt less afraid and started singing.
"On and on and on and on it goes
It overwhelms and satisfies my soul
And I never, ever, have to be afraid
One thing remains"
Then...as if that wasn't big enough for me, the next song came on: "That's What Faith Can Do" by Kutless.
Y'all. I wrote about this song and what it meant to me a little over a month after Matthew died. Wrote how I was begging God to help me because I was desperately trying to survive my broken heart and glorify God and couldn't He just help me out some? I just reread that post. Sometimes I just have no words for the awe.
"I’ve seen dreams that move the mountains
Hope that doesn’t ever end
Even when the sky is falling
And I’ve seen miracles just happen
Silent prayers get answered
Broken hearts become brand newThat’s what faith can do."
I spent the next 15 minutes or so crying. In gratitude.
I know we have a lot going on. I know there are lots of unknowns and circumstances that aren't ideal and things I wish I had more certainty in.
But I am at such peace about everything.
Houses are rented. We'll find somewhere to live. I do not believe for one second that MRI or any blood work is going to come up with anything that says cancer, and I have no reservations, whatsoever, about holding off on a mastectomy and watching for a bit longer. We have food in crazy amounts, so much water that Luke plays in it all the time, and though I complain about the size of this house—it's ginormous in world standards.
It may seem like there'd be a lot of turmoil in my mind (and there has been, make no mistakes), but there isn't.
Not one bit.