SITTING WITH shadrach meshach and abednego
There's a great movie out right now called "Jane and Emma." In one of the scenes, Jane is speaking to God in such a profound and personal way. I don't have the exact quote but she's wanting to know what God wants from her; where He wants her to go and what He would have her do. She talks about how sorrow swallows up her joy and leaves her hollow. This line hit me both times I watched the movie. I'm working really hard at not letting the sorrow swallow up my joy. And mostly I don't want to be left feeling hOllow. I want to be able to see the good in the world and recognize the hand of God in all things. I want to be more grateful for those blessings He's given me. But I can't lie. This week has been difficult. I've been left feeling a little hollow.
This has been a hard week. It feels like every single week is a hard week these days. But this week has just brought me to an exhausted place. Tears are always just below the surface and I'm more than tired. The surgeon requested a MRI to get a more complete look at the breast. That happened last week. A separate trying experience. Well, I got the results Tuesday. There's another mass and they want it biopsied. Gross. Gross. Gross. I hated it last time and the anticipation of experiencing that again was just....ugh. But it was scheduled for Thursday and I'm gonna face it like I have done every other part of this experience. Scared but doing it anyway. Wednesday I was due in court for case management with my divorce. Filing for divorce was the best decision I ever made for my life. Even though I knew that it was still a hard thing to do. I had to let go of dreams and whatnot. It was a dark, difficult time while I navigated the brutal reality of my life. Going through a divorce AND cancer at the same time........the worst! Merciless adversaries. I wouldn't recommend it if at all possible. Sometimes, like in my case, it's not. I feel like I'm fighting multiple major battles at once and the joy of life is sometimes wrapped up in that. I fight really hard not to stay there too long though. I fight really hard to try to be something more than my immense sadness and unacknowledged fear.
I had the biopsy on the second mass today. First, let me say that I have loved the care I've gotten from Huntsman Cancer Institute so far. It has been worth the constant drives up the Salt Lake. But Satan is busy. Always. Today was just miserable. I went in expecting it to be like the last biopsy. I brought a friend and I was prepared to deal with the pain. The resident came in and there was just a completely different vibe with her. I'm not even sure how to explain it but I wasn't comfortable with her at all. She left and then the doctor came and confirmed they were going to do the biopsy. I was ok with that, I was prepared. I asked if the doctor was doing it and I was told yes, but then it turns out that wasn't the truth. He and the resident came back in and then he had my friend leave. I was so upset. I brought her on purpose. She was suppose to be there to support me and it was so frustrating. The last time I had this done, there was a nurse and a doctor. This time there were four people in the room. Completely unnecessary. The resident was terrible. She didn't numb me all the way and I was just frustrated the entire time. When she started inserting the needle for the biopsy, I could tell that the area wasn't numb enough because it was stinging and it hurt. When asked, I told them it was fine. Right, that's my go to phrase. I'm fine. I was anything but fine. However, the needle was already in and I just wanted it to be over. The technician could tell it hurt and asked if I wanted more numbing medicine and I said no. I SAID NO. I asked them to complete the process and I would be fine. Then the doctor asked and I said NO. And then he said, I'm gonna give you some numbing medicine. I said NO. I was so angry. I did not want more. I wanted it done and I hadn't moved and it wasn't going to make their job any easier. I just layed on the bed with silent tears running down my face the entire time. I'm laying on a bed with my top off, a needle in my arm, asking for something and being completely ignored. It was the most vulnerable experience. When they were none I asked for my friend to come back. The doctor was still refusing to allow her in the room until the nurse was done with putting stupid sterile bandages on it. I was so angry. Why were you keeping her from me? That was the entire point of bringing her. The doctor left and thankfully as soon as he was out of the room the technician went and got her for me. I was so grateful. The nurse had to compress the wound for several minutes and my friend was finally able to be with me. It was later explained that she was asked to leave because the doctor isn't comfortable with family being in the room. Right. Because this is about you. You're the one with cancer, yes, let's just make this all about you. I was so upset and in pain and it made for a hard morning. But even still, there were tender mercies and I need to be grateful and focus on that. So let's go.
My tender mercies. I have been blessed with angels as friends. They have been there for me in times when I didn't even know I needed. There are way too many experiences to share them all, but a couple need mention. One angel of mine stepped up and took me to the MRI. I fought it so much! I am still learning how to accept the help of others. I still struggle with feeling like I'm worth the effort. I got sick afterwards and I was grateful that I didn't have to drive home and I'm more than grateful that she offered to be there for me. She also brought me a nice warm pot of rice pudding just because she loves me. True friend. #getone The other miracle in all of this came in the form of another dear friend. When I found out Tuesday she I asked what I needed and my answer was simple. You. And the next next day she was on a plane to Utah. I was grateful that we could spend the remainder of that day together and that she'd be with me the next morning. She worked hard at not allowing me to stress about the biopsy too much. And she was right there for whatever...except where they made her outside. As soon as the technician allowed her back in, she was there holding my hand. She let me cry and allowed me to feel the onslaught of emotions. I was so sad to take her to the airport but so grateful to have had a piece of home with me for a little while. Two terrible experiences made better by the love and kindness of another. Friends like that are hard to come by and we all need them in our life. That's my goodness in the world for now.