I crave solitude. It is only in the silence and aloneness
that I can hear the things that my heart is trying to tell me. I often hear
folks mention that they keep the t.v. on at home for “company”. I think that
many times we are afraid be alone with ourselves, to sit in silence and allow
the truth to reveal itself. So many decisions need to be made regarding my
health. I hear what the doctors tell me and I read the literature, but what I
most need is to be able to listen to my own inner voice. I need to give myself
permission to make my own choices about treatment, to tune out the others and
tune into myself.
I have taken myself on a retreat, to a little cottage in the
woods. It is silent here, no television, no dogs barking or children screaming.
I sit and watch the birds at the feeder, deer marching silently through the forest,
squirrels scurrying about. The tree tops do a choreographed dance in the wind,
like metronomes set at the most somber tempo. I fix simple meals for myself and
slowly eat while listening for the still small voice that I know is my higher
power speaking to me.
My surgeon's nurse called me earlier this week with the
results of the MRI. It showed nothing significant, so the doctor wants to take
one more swipe at getting clean margins. She scheduled surgery for March 6th.
I really almost wish that she had seen
something, making a mastectomy necessary. The reality is that she may still not
get clean margins and have to do more surgery.
She talks about being motivated to save my breasts. I really do not give
a damn. These girls have done their duty. They attracted several men, some I
could have done without. They nourished and comforted my four babies. I am
willing to let them go if need be. I think she is more motivated to save them
than I am.
I got a call this morning. My daughter is in the emergency
room. She began coughing up blood last night. They think that the tumor has
grown into her airway. My immediate thought was that I need to leave here and
go to the hospital. I spoke with my
daughter who convinced me that there is nothing I can do there. Her sister is
with her and they will keep me informed.
I have gotten one bit of clarity in the silence here. I am
not afraid of dying, we are all going to die sooner or later. What I am afraid
of is not being fully present for myself and my family. I am afraid of not
feeling every single thing, of trying to avoid the pain and in doing so robbing
myself of the painful joys to be found in the sadness.