My favorite photo of Chicago. Matt and my gummy bear race in his, Miriam and Nate's room. It's fun to laugh with friends that we've known since we were little. Matt & Nate lived next door since the time I was in middle school. I remember, from time to time - when I was lucky - getting rides home from school from the neighbor boys, saving me from the one mile walk along the dirt road. The Wight brothers. They were always down for a little basketball at their place, or mine, you would hear a ball bouncing and it was on. I have so many amazing memories in Friday Harbor. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and relive it all over again. Back to a time when my biggest concern was earning my driver's license.
I'm writing another post because I can't sleep. I feel like I have adrenaline bursting through my veins and nausea, along with dread, fear, and some sadness. I am one of those girls that is walking with the weight of the world on her shoulders. One of my favorite TV shows is called Parenthood. Dan can't stand it because it seems too realistic, but for me that's exactly what draws me in. One of my favorite things in life is watching human dynamics, and relationships, ebb and evolve. I'm in a vulnerable place right now, inching toward the knife, again attending appointment after appointment, MRI after MRI, reality into reality, deeper I go. In my show one of the characters has been diagnosed with breast cancer and the storyline stirs up so many emotions. It makes me confused, and reminds me of so many things. I find myself watching with tears running down my face. It feels cathartic and yet masochistic.
I am terrified of undergoing another brain surgery. I am scared for my head, all my little happily rebellious hair follicles, the scalp, the skin, the scar, the skull, the dura mater, the meninges, my brain tissue, oh wow, my poor body. Last time I went under the knife it was not an option. This time, I worry that I might regret walking into this. It could cure me but it could also kill me. That is a heavy burden and it's mine to bear. There are craniotomies performed all the time, hundreds perhaps thousands, I'm sure, most days of the week all over the country. I love hearing success stories, but unfortunately, I hear mostly those of horror. And with my history of complications, I feel as if I have plenty of reason to be concerned. I feel as if I am in my weakest point, that my warrior spirit is at an all time low. I'm still happy and enjoying my life, I'm laughing a lot, but deep in my soul it's stormy.
I don't need anyone to fluff me up and build my confidence if it isn't genuine, but if you could be strong for me, I would greatly appreciate it. I am unable to bear more than my load, and I'm sorry for that. I wish I could be stronger.
