Walking alone for several miles never fails to get me to a better place. The days after learning about the breast deal, I was simply teeming with rage. Rage at what? Rage at whom? There really was no target.
Wasting time thinking about feeling sorry for myself or delving into a deep depression or trying to figure out why I have had so much trouble this year was only going to be a dead end.
So the day after I learned the delightful news, I crammed my hands into my pockets and walked. For the first two miles I could feel the rage pulsing within me, and then the anger evaporated into tears. The tears set loose the tightness in my body. The rage would return, and then the tears would dilute it. This cycle continued for about two miles. I was just about at the point of not being able to stand another moment of this when a bit of grace crossed my path.
As I was walking by one of the lakes in my neighborhood, my eye caught hold of a pod on the ground.
I picked it up. It felt warm and smooth in my hand. Its presence lightened my heart just a tad but enough that I knew that no matter what happens in my life, I will always be able to access my joy.
When bad things happen to us, the tendency is to try to get away from them, but in my own experience I have found that I do best when I allow my feelings to flow. This does not mean that I must burden others with my fears, tears and anger. In most cases a good long walk does the trick.
And you know one of the first thoughts I had after I got the bc news was, "Well, at least I can walk now."
At least this waited until I was up and driving and walking again. It could have been worse.
My surgical pathology report turned to be a good one. I am having a second report done by John Hopkins because I don't want to leave any stone unturned. As long as both path reports match, then I have a splendid chance of living my full life span before this gets me or something else does.
I am still awaiting the results of the genetic test that will show whether I have the genetic mutation that will result in my needing to have a bilateral mastectomy. My chances of having that mutation are only five per cent, but due to the fact that my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer before she was fifty, my surgeon recommended that I be tested, for if I have the mutation and do not have my breasts removed then I face a ninety per cent chance of recurrence.
My treatment plans are awaiting the results of the Oncotype-D test which tests twenty-one genes, and will provide me with information that will let me know my chance of recurrence. If I am not happy with the numbers, then I will need some chemotherapy.
I most definitely will be starting a regimen of radiation soon. Right now everything is on hold while I wait for the genetic test results.
So right now I try to put my troubles in a drawer because I feel great, and there are three hundred Carolyn Wharton caladium bulbs waiting to be planted. Last year I put in four hundred and fifty bulbs. I want my yard to be a vision in pink.
My pod fell from a tree called an Ear Pod Tree. It is from the same family of the Mimosa. I guess nature was trying to lend me its ear. I derive much comfort from observing the cycles of nature.
Nature knows and nature obeys. It does not rail against the changing of the seasons. It adapts.
And so shall I.