Today was a fairly productive day, in spite of my sleeping in until 10. I resisted DD's attempts to get me up at 7:30, she came in complaining about something her brother was doing and I kicked her out: "What a great way for me to wake up in the morning! Do you really think the first thing I want to hear when I open my eyes is you whining about something?" To put this in its proper perspective, her father was already awake and downstairs. Apparently he wasn't enough of an authority figure for her, or perhaps he just ignored her. Obviously it wasn't much of a crisis, because I closed my eyes and slept for another two and a half hours.
DH took DS1 out for a haircut and then to buy a new bike, then they caught lunch at Jack in the Box. While they were out, my older sister called and we had a good talk, catching up. And while I was on the phone, I de-cluttered the bookcases in the breakfast nook and I tackled the disaster that was the playroom. I think that every single toy was on the floor. The blocks and dress-up clothes, play tools, army men, Bionicles, Thomas the Tank Engine, plastic dinosaurs, Star Wars figurines... what a mess! When tackling something like that, it helps to be methodical: choose a box, and fill it. All in all, it went pretty quickly, since there actually is a place for everything in that room. Part of the problem with this house: it's so big, we really do have room for all this stuff. I've mentioned several times to DH that we should move to a smaller house. He thinks I'm crazy, but I'm serious.
After that, I'm not really sure what happened to the day... we're having odd weather, the tail end of some hurricane is blowing through today and tomorrow. I took the umbrella to Mass and I'm glad I did, it was pouring when we got out. DS1 complained about being cold and I laughed at him. It was like 85 degrees and raining. It wasn't cold, but he just isn't used to being rained on at all. We don't even own raincoats or boots or anything other than umbrellas, it rains so seldom here. After supper I went out to empty the paddling pool (DH had started filling it before the rain blew in) and the weather was just gorgeous: very windy, with that just-rained, might-rain-again wetness hanging in the air, and everything smelled so clean. It felt good to be outside in air that was not parched and 105 degrees.
Supper was clean-out-the-fridge leftovers, and miraculously no one complained, and then I dashed up to Trader Joe's because we were so close to being out of milk as to make no difference, and we needed other things, too.
So you see, I got a lot done today, but it has all been as if slogging uphill, none of it came easily. What I really want to do is stay in bed, pull the covers over my head, and hide until the 27th when I find out what's going to happen. Clearly, that's going to far: I have three kids and big house to manage, not to mention a charming husband who deserves a wife who is at least present if not exactly useful.
There's a constant sub-surface conversation going on in my head, like a little buzz-buzz-buzz: you have cancer, you know well, maybe, but it's not the kind anyone ever dies of, and besides, it might not be cancer well even if it's not cancer you still need surgery! yeah so? what am I supposed to do?
Impossible options:
1) freak out, cry, and require sedation I don't think so, this one requires too much effort
2) withdraw completely, and just sit staring at the wall while chaos reigns in the house who am I kidding? Someone's got to keep track of these people. I can check out for an hour, maybe, but after that? No way.
3) talk about the possibilities, call everyone I know and regale them with my woes, whine incessantly about having all these things happen to me again... takes to much effort. Besides, I don't really want to talk about to anyone else until I know more; I've told my immediately family, and no one else needs to know right now, anyway. The whole sympathy-play makes me very uncomfortable.
4) Spend hours and hours on the web researching thyroid nodules and thryoid cancer, thyroidectomy, and ferret out every last detail of the ins and outs of what may be going on with me Eh, no. I've already done about an hour, maybe two, of research, and found what I need to know. Frankly my eyes started glazing over after a while. I'll probably do another round of research when I've got my diagnosis, but until then? No thanks: I've learned enough already to be prepared when my dx comes in. There will be no other test.
5) Indulge in various escapist extravagances: eat too much, drink too much, stay up too late, watch stupid TV... Shop. I have no appetite, alcohol makes me feel like puking... OK, I have been up late but nothing out of the ordinary for me, and I've even been limiting the stupid TV. It's boring. Shopping? For what? I did a lot recently and I don't really need anything. And I really don't feel like shopping. Again, too much effort.
So I'm left with trying to be patient, trying not to freak out, trying to remember to eat. Dealing with the sore throat (no better today... time for some ibuprofen) and feeling tired, more than tired: wrung out. "Been through the wringer", that's me. What's making this hard is that nothing has actually happened yet. Anticipating difficult things is very draining, and I have 3 double biopsies coming up, and most likely a thyroidectomy, too. No wonder I feel flattened these days.
Another thing I did today was put the photos from our summer vacation into an album. I kept out the picture of the beach and put it up next to the computer. It's a really good picture, just the long view down the shore that you would see as you walked along the beach. When I look at it, I feel... confused, I guess. I remember being there and feeling so well, so peaceful. And I feel sad because I am so far away.
But then I wonder, do I really feel sad? The nodule on my thyroid feels exactly like the lump you get in your throat when you need to cry. I find myself feeling inexplicably sad these days, but there's no reason for me to cry. For once, I can honestly assess that I am not depressed. I think that I'm actually getting a physical cue from my body: perhaps a good cry would clear the lump in my throat? Alas, that won't do the trick! (Who says "alas" anymore? Me, apparently.)
So, no beach for me, but the Patriots-Cardinals game tomorrow will be fun, even if I can't yell because it makes my throat hurt. I sang in church today, and I hope I will still be able to sing after my surgery. One thing the thyroid nodule has done is improve my singing voice -- an unexpected blessing, and I hope it will last. I really like to sing and over the past few years my range and pitch have really improved. I knew there was something going on -- I knew I had nodule -- but I wasn't going to look that gift horse in the mouth. Now I'm glad I've been taking advantage of it while I could, because who knows for how much longer I'll actually be able to sing?
See, that's another one of those negatives that I'm just stuck waiting for. And I hate wishing for time to speed up, because I frankly don't want my life to be any shorter than it is destined to be. (I wish I could figure out a way to phrase that without offending my own sense of free will and my rejection of the idea that our lives are mapped out for us and we have no choice but to follow some pre-ordained path.) So all that leaves me just here, present and "normal", I guess. The temptation to reject normalcy because bad things are coming is very strong, but at this point, normalcy is the biggest comfort I've got.
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