Big Shadows

Worry often gives a small thing a big shadow. - Proverbs

 

I don't like medical procedures.  To put it mildly.  I've written about this before, ad nauseum, so I won't go into great detail.  Suffice it to say that I'd rather wait till waiting is no longer an option, when health issues crop up.  

Complicating matters, my mother was a world class hypocondriac, and she deftly passed the baton on to me.  In her last letter to her family - she wrote at length about the cancer she was certain she had, and of wanting to avoid the unavoidable deterioration that would have been associated with the disease.  Autopsy results confirmed that she was cancer free.  I don't talk about that particular very often, because it was just yet one more in a long list of diseases she self diagnosed herself with, including Polio, Mysethenia Gravis (Lou Gehrig's Disease), heart disease, mysterious birth defects, and more.  It was just another part of her mental illness  - a crafty symptom which knew how to use research to its devious benefit.  Her assumed illnesses cast big shadows over her life and this seemed to be how she preferred it.  She lived in shadows until the shadow, not any actual physical condition - took over completely.

I think that shadows have a time and place.  Out in the sunlight, they can be startling in their beauty.  I remember a particular walk I took many years ago, when I was lost in my own depression.  A time when I felt useless, disconnected.  Then, something startled me - one quick thing, the sight of which gave voice to the healthy optimistic part of me that was fighting for my return.  This has happened before.  Once, I was under an extraordinary sunset, the maker of which I could not deny, had a hand in something mystical, beautiful, and greater than myself or my comparatively small sadness.  More than once I have been pulled from grief when near a body of water - particularly those with currents or waves.  Like the beating of our hearts, the rythym of our respiratory system.  Something lovely and consistent that reminds me that I am alive.  And once, many years ago, while walking in the snow in the hills of South Dakota - it was my shadow.  Hey, that's me.  I am here.  A strange and powerful thought.  Powerful enough, to pull me through.

I am here.

Shadows are not entirely, bad things.

 Six weeks ago, in the midst of all the mud I was trying to swallow and swim through - I went in to see the doctor.  I do this for my family.  My children primarily.  The call I feel to do something anything other than what my mother did to me (in front of me / despite me) when I was a child, is wild and strong.  I simply can not put my childrren through the same.  So, my quest at the doctors six weeks ago was singularly focused.  I needed something to get me through the anxiety and desolation, but I needed to be able to present for my job and most importantly - for my children.

The doctor suggested I get some blood tests to check for some underlying causes of my depression. Often, when I am depressed, I stop eating.  Or, I should say, my diet changes significantly.  I can't taste my food much, and so crackers and applesauce are a mainstay.  Anemia kicks in quickly, and really complicates matters.  He wanted to check for stuff like that.

He provided an anxiety med, which helped, and which I took in tremendous moderation.  I have a vivid fear of addiction, and withdrawel.  The fear helps keep my intake of meds in check.  He also wanted to up the dosage of my anti depressant.  I ignored that advice, in fact did the opposite and lowered the dose I've taking for the past couple of years.  I am tired of forgetting things, miss my short term memory, and just didn't think that numbing things out was going to be the answer this time.

From there, I went home.  I didn't hear from him again, and neglected to make the suggested follow up appointment.  Neglected to make the appointment for a number of reasons.  I didn't particularly feel like listening to a lecture about having lowered my meds against doctors orders.  I also dislike going to the doctor, I mentioned that already.  Finally, as far as the blood tests go - no news is good news - right?

There was another health issue that was bothering me, but I had absolutely no energy to deal with it.  I could manage a day at the vet, or a day on the computer getting the bare minimum needed to be done at ZNE, done - and then dinner with the kids, homework help, hugs, but not much else.

The lump I'd discovered in my left breast seemed inconsequential.  About a month after I'd found it - I pointed it out to my husband.  He could feel it too.

As I found myself 'coming out' of my emotional haze, it occurred to me that, I needed to take care of some business.

I still put it off.  Later.  Maybe if it got bigger.  It's not a big deal.

In my defense - here is some backstory.  Some of you may recall some of these details.  A little over three years ago, I found a lump between my armpit and shoulderblade.  It was "of concern" - noted the doctors.  I was miserable with fear.  It was overwhelming.  What would my young kids do without me?  How would anyone be able to love them the way that I did, as much as they deserved, more than life itself?  Woa is me.

The lump three years ago, was a tumor.  Not a cyst of some other kind of inconsistency below my skin.  But, big sigh, it was not cancerous.

Skip ahead a year and a half.  I was in the shower, and blood began to trickle, as if from nowhere, out of my left nipple. (Eeeauuuw is right.)  Bleeding is anxiety producing, so that time I went to the doctor right away.  Aproximately two months later, I'd run the gamut.  Appointments, specialists, a mammogram, and a finally surgical procedure called a ductectomy, whereby they removed the entire duct below the skin.  If I ever had more children, I wouldn't be able to breast feed them from the left breast, they'd explained.

But they could find nothing.  No microscopic cancer cells, no cysts, tumors, or skin tags that would explain the bleeding.

This was all good news.  No news is good news, right?  Oh, I think I said that already.  In any case, after the duct was removed, there was no place for blood to pass through, the duct had been the passageway, and with it gone, so was the blood.  Phew.

Aproximately three months later, another lump.  Tiny.  Pea sized.  This time on my leg.  Another issue "of concern."  Another biopsy.  I have the tiny scar, still.  It looks like a tiny water bug.  A tiny oval scar with four surrounding "leg" dots, where the sutures had been.

What did they find?  The same as before - a tumor.  Not a cyst or something more insignificant.  A tumor, but again - benign.

Before you imagine me as the incredible lopsided cut up girl - each of these procedures were same day in and out.  The scars are miniscule.  Tiny pebbles of scars - except for the ductectomy scar which is about an inch long lengthwise, but tiny still.  Only the ductectomy required general anesthesia.

More than the minor physical discomfort, the more troubling effect of these procedures was the slow buildup of fear.  The fear of waiting.  The fear of those troublesome late night worries.  Everything from Why Me? to Why Not Me?  And then that very odd final feeling, a combination of relief and shame over how much I had worried over, seemingly nothing.

But, I digress.  My point is, this particular lump I am feeling now - also pea sized (really, a bit smaller. A  half pea) is located in a place where I can very easily tell myself, it is likely to be scar tissue, from the surgery I had a year and a half ago.  Scar tissue that has somehow broken loose, or just grown now to such a size that I can feel it, all of a sudden.

So, that has been my relief over the past several weeks.  Scar tissue.  We all have scars.  They symbolize a healing as much as having had a wound.  The body's victory over some minor battle.  Nothing to worry about.

Then, last weekend, I did something I had put off during the past couple of months.  I checked my voicemail messages.  My cell phone voicemail advises people to email me, and lets them know that leaving a message is not a reliable way to get in touch with me.  Most of the messages I get on that number are spammy in content.  Would I like to set up a new merchant account for ZNE credit card processing (no), would I like to subscribe at the professional courtesy rate to such and such magazine (no).  Etc.

It turns out that three days after that doctor appointment in November, my doctor had called me back.

"Hey Chelise, we need to get you back in here to repeat your blood tests.  There are some inconsistencies we need to double check.  Can you come in to the lab at your earliest convenience and make a follow up appointment with me?"

It's probably anemia and scar tissue.

That's what I told myself, when today, five weeks from when he made that call, I went in to the hospital lab to have the blood tests repeated.

I called the doctor and left a message for him this morning.

His office called me back this afternoon and said that he would like to see me first thing tomorrow morning, and then (ha!) they said that they would like to make a second appointment for me following the first one, with their in house ob-gyn, for an exam.

"Why?"

The receptionist who was returning my call didn't know, she just had the notes from my primary care physician - she said.

"What do the notes say?"

"They just say that we make you the two appointments as early as possible, but tomorrow is the earliest we can get you in.  Do you want me to have the doctor call you back?"

I opted for 'yes' to the two doctor appointments, and 'no' to the call back from the doctor.  I am going to see him tomorrow morning anyway.  Plus, for now - no news is good new - remember?  Why push the envelope. 

Tonight, I'll focus on getting dinner on the table.  Doing homework with the kids.  Taking care of some ZNE business.  We are days away from opening class registration for ZNE ConvenZioNE 2009, and I am excited about that.

And, aside from writing about it here, I"ll not worry too much.  I'm finally stirring things up, waving away all the shadows.  Even with a bandage on my arm from that blood draw earlier today, shooing away those shadows isn't such hard work.  It is simply, the work for today.

Comments

[Scritto da: maigirlz]

I'll be crazy praying for you tonight, Chel!

[Scritto da: Julie Bergmann]

Sweet Girl! Thanks for writing on your blog. I can so relate! I will be praying for you tonight. Don't worry. Worry always makes thing seem crazy worse. May peace reign with you tonight.
Hugs! xoxo
Julie

[Scritto da: Kathryn]

Dearest Chel,
You will be in my prayers tonight. I am sending you good wishes and vibes.

Hugs,
Kathryn

[Scritto da: Donna Cook]

prayers heading your way

and my favorite shadow!
http://smilebox.com/playBlog/4e6a6b324d7a63794d413d3d0d0a

love you, lots!

[Scritto da: Karla Smith]

Hi Chel,

I know I only met you for a short time but truly delightful time while visiting ZNE and spending time together at Wendy's studio. I've been out of touch in life and felt I'd feel better taking a moment to hop on a few blogs to find out how many other people in the world are doing. I'll be your angel when you feel worried, depressed, happy, and in the wee hours of the night when you are feeling uneasy. I can relate to many things you've shared and feel you are helping others by expressing the truth about the daily life you live.

Please remember I'll be praying for you and I'll be that invisible angel who hugs your soul when your just not sure of answers or are struggling to find peace. Don't worry my dear, I believe you have many people who care more than you really know!

Please keep us posted and remember you are not alone.

Warmly with Hugs,
Karla Smith

P.S. Seeing you and all the kindred spirits in the Spring for ZNE, truly helps me get through my losses and struggles I'm experiencing these days. I truly look forward to visiting ZNE, which is the greatest prescription for me and I'm sure I'm not alone with that too....

[Scritto da: Nelda Ream]

I understand your worry. I will be praying for you; asking that He give you good health and His peace.

[Scritto da: Gina Smith]

Oh my...back to email to you....should have read this first...good luck and keep us posted if you can.

[Scritto da: Stephanie, MLouIsPink]

Chel,
I am so sorry that you are dealing with such stress and anxiety. I've been thinking of you all day.
We all care and send healing love.
-Stephanie

[Scritto da: SueAnn]

I pray the shadows flee and the light shine on you bright and strong!
Hugs
SueAnn

[Scritto da: SueAnn]

I pray the shadows flee and the light shine on you bright and strong!
Hugs
SueAnn