[Written two weeks ahead of surgery.]
I was pretty casual about the surgery for the 3 months or so since it got scheduled. Matter-of-fact. Yes, I’m having surgery. Yes, it’s a big deal, but no, I don’t have cancer. I’m glad I get to choose this. I believe it’s the right thing to do. The big day loomed on the calendar, reminding me to enjoy myself now, work on my abs now, and not worry too much about what was ahead.
But now we are under two weeks away, and all the feelings have suddenly begun to simmer.
Am I crazy to do this?
I don’t want to do this.
I choose to do this.
I wish I didn’t have to do this.
That one right there. Because of course I don’t want to go carving into my body. And of course it’s scary. Even so, I believe it is the right choice. Not only that, I’ve gotten messages from many, many people that they think so, too. I take that as the Universe cheering me on. I receive it gratefully.
I just wish I didn’t have to. Which always reminds me of this quote:
So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you.
-J.R.R. Tolkien
The time that is given to me. Do I hope for the best year after year, scan after scan? Or do I decide to act?
Something will kill me. Whether that’s cancer, a shark, or who knows what, this surgery will not ensure my immortality. Removing my ovaries within the next year will also not ensure I live forever, and yet that’s what the doctors are recommending.
But here’s the thing: I get to choose these moves and execute them on my timeline. That sounds a hell of a lot better than running into the existential roadblock that is a cancer diagnosis. I spoke to my cousin. Sixteen rounds of chemo before they could even think about these surgeries. The mental drain. The everything that is fucking cancer. The fear it will return.
I have the option to walk in healthy, go through some serious shit, and continue on with my life. I get to choosethis. Do I want to? Hell no. But I get to. And that is a big deal.
I wish none of this had happened. So do all.
I will take this body with which I’ve had an “it’s complicated” relationship forever, and I will alter it. I will give up sensation and surrender to recovery. I will mourn the loss of my breasts but be grateful that my body can rebuild them. I will never be the same.
But I will still be me.
This choice is part of my time in this life. I am strong and healthy and will be beautiful before and after this is all done. I’m scared. I don’t want to. I know it’s my path.
This isn’t the first time I’ve had to smash a comfort zone. I’ve been on the precipice of the Wild Unknown before more than once. I know it’ a leap. I’ll be ready.
YOUR TURN:
1. Reflect on a time when you were scared as hell but did it anyway.
2. Write down a quote or mantra that gets you through rough times.