“If you spend your whole life waiting for the storm, you’ll never enjoy the sunshine.” -Morris West
Four days after my thirty-something birthday, during a routine examination, I was told there was a problem. This wasn’t the first time. My thyroid was now the next in line of abnormal cells and suspicious ultrasounds. I won’t burry the lead, I’m fine, for now.
I thought the “hurry up and wait” portion of my life was over after a failed marriage to a United States Marine. Yet, here I ago again, waiting. After several yearly checks resulting in “we’ll keep a watchful eye,” I decided to quit keeping watch.
I spent the majority of my twenties as an advocate for my own physical health. Determination, discipline and drive, led me to huge weight loss and fitness milestones. Despite any personal set backs, I eventually rebounded, stronger. But, was it all for nothing?
The room was quiet and beige. I was told to lay still as the radiologist affixed the surgical drape to my neck. The ultrasound would help guide him, the proverbial X, marking the spot. Lay still I told myself again as the biopsy needle pierced my flesh. Remember, don’t swallow, the mass will move. My over anxious saliva glands were quickly trying to drown me on the table.
It would be one day shy of three months from that first appointment before I would get the all clear on my thyroid. For three months, I tried to keep a stoic front, from my coworkers, friends and family. For three months I tried to ignore the three centimeter complex nodule that had formed near my windpipe. The ultrasound on my breast several years ago was nothing compared to that quiet, empty, beige room. Then too, was I lucky enough to get the all clear. But, until the doctor gives you those words, you live in limbo, you live in the grey.
Just days after my husband left for basic training, at only 22, would be my first fall into the grey. It would take four more evaluations of abnormal cells and years of waiting for the other shoe to drop before I would stop checking. Essentially the doctor reassured me that my body would clear of the abnormal cells on its own or we would handle it once it progressed. I have skipped the last two years of checks. If I ignore the problem, it doesn’t exist right? I may have traded my health for fractured peace of mind.
Today I made the appointment to face my fear, to face my body. I can hope for a definitive answer, a black and white as opposed to more grey. Regardless of the outcome I have stopped waiting for the storm. I will come to it.
Connect with The Inkwell Files by leaving a comment below about a time when you had to rise above your own storm.