Higher power

It took me a while to process this post through my head.... and the crazy, busy weeks filled in the rest of the time.

On my way to my appointment to have the second procedure on my leg site, I was reminded that there is something bigger than me out there and I need to have faith.  Keep in mind, I'm not the most religious person but I do have my own sense of faith.  I believe there is a higher power but I haven't reconciled who she or he is yet.  But I believe and what happened on the way to my appointment reminded me it's ok to let go sometimes and just lean on your inner power. So here's what happened:

I left work a little early because if I didn't, something would happen and I'd be late.  I hit the road and tears were very close to the surface from the stress and sadness that this is my life now and the impending pain I knew was coming shortly.  In order to quiet the voice in my head, I turned the radio up loud. Really loud. Ear hurting loud.  I didn't care what was on but I needed the music to focus on.

And then this song came on:

"I Lived" by One Republic

[Verse 1]
Hope when you take that jump
You don't fear the fall
Hope when the water rises
You build a wall

Hope when the crowd screams out
They're screaming your name
Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay

Hope that you fall in love
And it hurts so bad
The only way you can know
Is give it all you have

And I hope that you don't suffer
But take the pain
Hope when the moment comes
You'll say...

[Chorus]
I, I did it all
I, I did it all
I owned every second
That this world could give
I saw so many places
The things that I did
Yeah, with every broken bone
I swear I lived

[Verse 2]
Hope that you spend your days
But they all add up
And when that sun goes down
Hope you raise your cup

I wish that I could witness
All your joy and all your pain
But until my moment comes
I'll say...

[Chorus]
I, I did it all
I, I did it all
I owned every second
That this world could give
I saw so many places
The things that I did
Yeah, with every broken bone
I swear I lived

I didn't really hear the song until the line about taking the pain and then I really started to listen.  And hear the message in the song.  Then I started to smile.  I'd never heard this song before, I wouldn't have heard it if I hadn't left early, or been on that particular station, or so on.  In my family, we call these moments "God winks."  I don't remember where the term comes from but it refers to moments when God is sending us a message if we are listening closely.  You could call it Fate or Karma or Faith or whatever but it was a message I chose to listen to.  

If that wasn't enough, there was something else too.  It was a miserable, rainy day that afternoon. Mood fitting perfect.  I happened to look in my rearview mirror during this song and saw the most beautiful, full rainbow in the sky behind me.  I couldn't believe it.  I kept looking in my mirror to make sure it was real.  It was and combined with the line "I swear I lived" I was reminded of what this appointment was truly about.  The fight to live, to survive, and to thrive.  

I don't believe what happened was an accident.  Was it God, Buddha, Mohammed, or someone else?  My faith says yes because that's how I chose to see it.  As a message to fight on, tough out the rough moments, embrace the pain to get the healing, and know that in the end I would come out just fine.  

So, I'm 2 weeks past the procedure.  In fact, I just got the stitches out from it 36 hours ago.  The wound looks good and the margins were all clear.  So, the physical side is basically done but the emotional, mental message of that day still linger.  In some moments, I can't even believe it happened.  It's too freaky to understand if I think too long about all the things that had to happen for it to occur.  So, I don't think, I just believe.  And fight on so that I can say that "I lived" and enjoyed the ride.

Trying to prepare

Tomorrow afternoon, I go in to have a chunk taken out of my leg and sent off to the lab in hopes it shows clear margins all around without any sign of melanoma outside that range.  The odds are pretty good in my favor but it does not mean I'm looking forward to the procedure and process.

Ironically, it's not the pain that I'm worried about. I'm one of the lucky few who has an amazing pain tolerance.  If you add into that what my grandfather (crudely) called "big brass ones," I know I'll tough it out without any pain meds and no complaining.  The most frustrating physical limitation for me is having to give up my running.  That's my daily therapy.  I'm hoping the fact this site is on my upper leg won't change the forced rest time any more than my back sites did.  We shall see in the next week.  I've run with so many stitches in me, that I know I can do it but I can't rush my bodies ability to make my skin stretch. It has its own schedule and I have to be patient. Not my strong suit some days.

So, the mental part.....  I figure someone will find my blog and wonder how to prepare.  The short answer is, "I don't know yet."  Three years into this battle, I haven't figured it out yet. I keep expecting it to get easier or that I'll find the answers somewhere but I haven't.  My mind races with worries of: what if there aren't clear margins, what if the muscle is involved, what if this isn't the only spot the monster is hiding in, and so on and on and on.  Quieting my mind is the part of the preparation I wish I could nail.  I made sure my work was caught up enough to leave work early tomorrow. Someone else is making dinner for me (and pouring me wine) to take it easy on a fresh wound. The hubster will put the boys to bed.  My beautiful boys know to "treat mom gentle" like before and to not crowd the bed during the night.  It's my stinking brain that I can't prepare for tomorrow.

My attempt to prepare is to keep reminding myself of the logical side of this fight. Survival statistics, pro-active care, aggressive monitoring, etc.  It helps turn down the volume in my brain if I'm lucky but that isn't often.  At least not as often as I need to feel prepared to walk in tomorrow. But I'll walk in that door, head held high, big brass ones in place (love ya Grandpa, miss ya) and donate a chunk of my leg to keep my survivor status.  Because I'm always prepared for the fight and refuse to give up.