Time is crawling, not flying as usual. Seven more days! Next Monday at 8 am I will sit or lie in a cold hospital room, talking to doctors and nurses I have never met (and hope to never meet again) because meeting them again would be bad news I suppose. Biopsy!
Being a nurse or caregiver is a calling, a calling I did not receive.
Caretakers are kind and gentle, they are patient and seem to be always in a good mood. I am afraid I am rather the opposite. I am ironic and perhaps a bit sarcastic, and I don’t have a filter between brain and mouth, which is not helpful at all right now.
October is breast cancer awareness months and there is so much on my mind, that I would like to say. Breast cancer -or any other kind of cancer – is not just something that hits older folks; more and more young women and young men are diagnosed as well. Today I would like to express myself in writing.
A month, not even a month. My next doctors appointment is on June 15th and I am anxious. I want to know, if I am on the right track. I feel that I am and hope the results then will back me up. See, my doctors don’t know that I took myself of the medications, I decided not to tell them. I won’t tell them right away either, when I will sit in their office in June. I want to see what they have to say first. I want to see the results of the tests and blood work first. I want to know, if I made progress or if things got worse. If they got worse, well. then I screwed up….big time. But I don’t think so.
I hesitated, didn’t want to go further toward our house. I was afraid it would be the same as every day. I walked slowly on the driveway, looked around the corner and then I saw the mess. Letters and cards where splattered all over our front yard. I couldn’t believe it; we just put new signs up “no trespassing” and “private property” it didn’t help. Again they have stepped all over our lawn and stuffed letters and flyers into our mailbox, hundreds of them. Our mailbox was overflowing, couldn’t hold anymore and the mail had fallen to the ground. There was still a small pile underneath, the wind had scattered the rest.