That’s me. Today.
My six month oncologist visit happened to fall today.
One year after my last radiation treatment.
It happened to be just before Easter weekend last year. Lots of analogies running through my head.
It’s been a bear of a week. (More on that tomorrow.)
I’ve been all upside down and inside out and it was all totally unrelated to this.
My friend asked me last month if I’d write to mark this anniversary. I wasn’t sure.
I went back and read what I wrote six months after the surgery. On August 4th.
The side effects are largely gone. No more itching, thankfully. My range of motion on the right side is back.
But I’m having hot flashes from the Tamoxifen. And weight gain. I’m really heavy right now and uncomfortable about it most of the time.
My breasts are scarred up and I don’t like to see them. I’m super thankful I have them, mind you, but they’re a constant reminder.
I’m grateful. Regularly.
I’m amazed that the cancer was caught early, cut out in the surgery and I didn’t need chemotherapy.
I guess I’ve wondered how to live in the in between.
Part of what I’ve been doing is stepping back from my relationship with Christ.
It’s probably why I haven’t written.
I don’t know how to say that.
I’m not leaving the faith or anything, but I’ve sort of stepped into a selfish cycle.
Isn’t that terrible?
After all of the goodness of God and others, I’ve been pretty self focused the past four or five months.
I’ve focused on my kids and on my job and on spending money and lots of things surrounding me and mine, but not so much on what God wants me to do next.
This tension has cropped up between sacrificing everything because God has been so incredibly faithful despite my faithlessness (the whole Samuel’s mother giving him back to God idea) and squeezing everything into this life possible because who knows when it will end. Whether or not it’s what God wants.
It’s the ugliest part of how I’ve been processing.
So I don’t have a rainbows and sunshine anniversary post.
I’m struggling but I’m also okay.
The doctor said everything looked good today and I was utterly thankful for that.
I can pray every day, which I do, and thank God, which I do, but still not live in a space where God wants me to be.
I tried to write a final line to this post a dozen different ways. To wrap this up neatly. I kept deleting them. Because everything sounded trite and untrue. I don’t know what’s next. But maybe I’ll come back here again.