I've stayed away because I've been afraid of my own thoughts for the past three weeks. Because I didn't want to dwell on the not-so-happy aspects of what's transpired in my husband's and my world. Because deep-down inside me, beyond that place of having patience or trust or even faith...I'm scared and I haven't wanted to admit it.
There is the long-winded version of this story that I've told to many family members and friends and then there's the one I'm ready to share here. On Christmas Day, a chest x-ray and CAT scan showed three nodules on James' right lung. After three weeks of a multitude of tests, procedures and possible diagnoses, James' health remains a mystery. The good news is all of the nasty things the doctors thought he might have he doesn't have. The other good news is many of the symptoms he's been experiencing are going away. I'm grateful for both of these things and it's challenging not yet knowing what's been going on with James' body. And so for now and for the next 4-6 weeks until his next CAT scan, we wait.
There's a part of me that's been strong and supportive to James...I've researched medical terms and have asked plenty of questions of the doctors. I haven't shown my fear of the unknown, but have remained steadfast in showing love and showering him with positive, healing energy. I've let go of my anger towards the doctors who had to follow "the rules" which kept us for three days over Christmas at the hospital. I've let go of my rage and disbelief at the physician who accidentally punctured James' lung while he was retrieving tissue samples. I've let go of my sadness having missed spending the holiday with my family. I've even let go of trying to figure out what all of this possibly means. But what continues to lurk in the corners, and keeps me up late at night, and makes me want to scream is my fear.
When I don't know something, I want to find an answer. Would knowing an answer in this case alleviate my fear or would it make it greater than it ever has been? I sit here at 2:30 in the morning staring at the blinking cursor. How ironic to want an answer to provide comfort and peace and yet not having one also creates those feelings.
No matter what happens, the love of my life and I will be okay. I know this.
Lisa--your last paragraph is the starting point.
Let the monkey mind do all its racing about and raising of fears. You can still reside in the knowing which comes from offering your attention to the small voice inside. That's where wisdom lives, not in the external, ego-based nonsense where everyone seeks answers.
Quietly surrender. You and James are living the answer. Let that be enough.
Posted by: Rick | January 11, 2009 at 08:03 AM
Thanks Lisa,
My thoughts exactly. My Mum was diagnosed with lung cancer Christmas eve. Stage lll right now but we're still in the staging process.
She is not my partner, which I know will be another thing, but I can relate.
She is doing very well. She is not sick, yet . . . and is just keeping it in the moment . . . ain't none of us getting out of here alive, she just has been told about her mortality, I haven't.
But even in my good moments I have that underlying feeling of . . . . fear.
Posted by: islandgirlspirit | January 11, 2009 at 01:49 PM
Hi Lisa -
Wow. You are in my prayers. No wonder you've been quiet on VCLN. I hope you mention it there too, because that can be a powerful place for support and "refocusing". ya know?
big hugs,
Christina
Posted by: Christina Frei | January 12, 2009 at 08:34 AM
Aw sweetie - I'm sending you a big big hug, all the way across the ocean and across the country. You're both in my thoughts and prayers. Of course you'll be ok...doesn't stop fear coming to visit though. I like to give fear a place to vent (just for a little while, don't want it taking over!) and just let it shake me, make me cry, make me scream...then I can go back to being strong again. Lots of love. Donna.xxxxx
Posted by: Donna | January 14, 2009 at 02:39 PM
Oh, Lisa, my heart is with you. I lost track of you for a while, but I'm glad to be back with you. I send you light and warmth, and wish for you a continued strong connection to your inner wisdom. You might like to check out my new blog during these days...asafarilife.blogspot.com. We continue to find connection...xoxo, Laura
Posted by: Laura DeVault | January 17, 2009 at 09:26 PM
I understand. I do...
I am a 33 year old married not yet 2 years, and on Halloween, my husband was diagnosed with Hodgkins' Lymphoma. The world that I have entered is now one which my "holistic" self is uncomfortable with. I know we will get through, but I've been impatient, and hurting with my family...
Your "ultimate yes" movie has made all the difference in the world. It is beautiful, and the reminder that I needed.
Thank you for that.
I wish you both healing and happiness...
My thoughts are with you..
This too, shall pass..
Posted by: gina | January 22, 2009 at 11:05 AM
Oh, Lisa. You and James will be in my thoughts and prayers. Oh, sweetie.
Posted by: Angela | January 29, 2009 at 11:52 AM