If there were one thing I wanted most, it would be certainty. God doesn't paint us a clear road sign and I have said it all week and I'll say it again - THIS PLAN SUCKS! Sure, "it could be worse." Say it again. It doesn't fix things, it doesn't make me whole again.
I'm mad. Mad because I shouldn't be dealing with anything this ridiculous. Serious, sure. Pointless and disruptive, COMPLETELY. I'm mad because I am tired and I don't know when it will lift. Mad because I am moody... and scared that it will be hard to fix. Mad because I need to cough and can't bring myself to do so productively so I am fighting coughing all day. I am mad because I want to exercise... but even if given the green light, I'd make it to the corner and back.
I am mad because it is taking time away from my family. I find myself scared to play with my baby, he wants to touch my slice, I want to catch him when he falls or lift him up when he is reaching for me, but I can't even pick him up yet because my slice could open up. I am scared that I am putting distance there on purpose without reason.
I gotta take a risk, take a chance...I am mad because I allow it to still consume me... even in absence. Just because it is gone, it still rules my life. I am ON HOLD until I hear that I wont need RAI.And I BETTER hear that I don't need RAI. After surgery I was supposed to let myself get back to my life. I no longer had to eat, drink, sleep, dream and live thyroid cancer. Knowing that is actually WAS cancer makes me continue to live it. To be it. I don't want to be it. I want to go back to my busy mommy/couponer/blogger life. I want to worry about dust and kitty litter and where the binkie has escaped to.
I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly
I'll do what it takes 'til I touch the sky
And I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
I am ready to return, but my "I" is not. Breakaway.
