Life is a balancing act in so many ways. Fun vs. responsibility. Helping others vs. helping yourself. I’m now more educated than ever on balancing many aspects of a diet.
I’m now trying to take control and balance my outlook on all this.
I think the first month after I received my results I was in denial. This isn’t cancer. This is a warning, I’ll be fine. Outside my diet patterns, I lived my life normally. I went to work, met with friends, played volleyball, went on dates.
After all, this isn’t cancer, my life is normal. I’m fine, if I’m not, somehow I’ll be fixed.
Somewhere between setting a date for my surgery and coming back to Omaha, I’ve entered the acceptance phase. This is a big deal, I must respond, I need help.
I’m also coming to accept the “scary stats.” I know I shouldn’t trust everything on the web, numbers are old, I’m a unique case, etc. But the numbers are out there. Every time I fully embrace them without entering panic mode, put me one step closer to being able to handle the reality of the next six months. As shitty as they may or may not be, I’m fighting against those numbers. I might be in pain, and upset, but I want to remember what I’m up against. I’m stronger than this. This is a big deal, but I’m stronger.
I’m now also standing on the boarder line of embracing it. My hair might thin with treatment, it’s been suggested that I cut my hair short so if it thins I won’t notice it. I’ve wussed out of a pixie cut before. Why not now? I’m ready for treatment, I’m ready to move forward. I’m embracing the situation. Change is coming, but I’m making the first move.
I was asked out to dinner by a guy I saw for a while last summer, volleyball guy for those of you who were in the loop last year. He randomly dropped back into my life via the “single lady wave-lengths” I put out (feel free to ask if you’re curious on this theory). I’ve told him everything that’s going on. If he’s cool with it, why shouldn’t I be? Things didn’t work out last time, but maybe I need to re-prioritize what I’m looking for now. Maybe I’m over thinking it all and he just wants to catch up.
I’m finding support groups, reaching out to people I know have faced similar situations. I’m making new circles of people who I can fall back on if and when I need to.
So, in summary, I’m getting ready to move forward. Maybe next week I’ll be back home in Lincoln. Both my parents are back at work this week, but I have friends and family staying with me to keep me company, and to keep my mind from wandering to the “bad place.” I’m hopefully going to a BBQ on Wednesday, my first social gathering in what may be a month. I might make it through, I might crash an hour in a need to sleep.
But I want to go back to a life worth living, sooner rather than later. I’m ready.