I feel the need to get my thoughts into writing today. My endo titrated up my meds again after my appointment with her this week, and I switched to the name brand version of the medication (Synthroid, instead of the generic levothyroxine that I have been taking since surgery). I am now six weeks post-op and my meds have been increased from the initial 100 mcg to 150 mcg. I still feel exhausted no matter how much sleep I get, but today I feel a little sharper mentally. That's in improvement I will gladly take. A wordsmith who can't remember her words... now that is no fun at all.
Different fears bounce in and out of my head as the days pass. Some revolve around thyroid cancer, metastatic cancer, and secondary cancer. Some revolve around side effects from RAI. Some revolve around the delicate nature of the endocrine system and how these medication adjustments feel like a shot in the dark while the way my body actually, physically feels continues to deteriorate. Some revolve around the lifestyle changes that I feel compelled to embrace but will cost me... monetarily, psychologically, emotionally, relationally. I try to let the fears bounce in and then bounce out again. The only way to keep them from bouncing in in the first place is to not be present, and escapism is something that I have been trying to disentangle myself from for years now. So they bounce in, and I look at them without giving them too much emotional weight, and then let them bounce back out again. It is a blessing to have small children, whose needs are always immediate and dire; they prevent me from dwelling too long on any "what-ifs" while I summon the energy to deal with the here and now.
In the past month I have felt the love of lifelong friends and the love of strangers. I was feeling sorry for myself the other day, and then felt chagrined, because although many people suffer, I have been wrapped in such a warm blanket of love and been held by so many strong arms through this. I have great friends and an amazing, tangibly supportive family. That is a gift. So many people are doing things for us to express their care and support, and normally my M.O. is to try to be strong and not need too much help... but right now I just recognize that I do need help. This is a hard place. I'm not despairing, but it is a low place; a place of proper perspective and honesty. I have never liked asking for help... not out of a sense of pride or "I can do it on my own"-ness, but mostly out of a fear of being rejected while I am vulnerable. I thought it would be easier not to need anything and just believe that I had the love of those around me than to actually put myself out there and be hurt. But one of my life lessons in this seems to be the lesson of "the necessary ask" -- the risky, vulnerable ask. And you know what I've discovered? I know some pretty stand-up people; people who are bending over backwards and sacrificing to help us. It is humbling and heart-warming and inspirational at the same time. And it is a picture of true community and family. I'm honored to be a part of it and I am determined to pay it forward.
I think that this time has brought much into focus for me. The reality that although there is struggle and loss and sadness, there is provision and love. Although fear knocks on the door, the mindfulness of the manifestations of God's love and presence in the moment I am in sends the anxious thoughts scurrying. Although relying on others to come through for you in your time of need is risky, it strengthens the fabric of family and community and it deepens the bonds of friendship and love. And that although I am not perfect in dealing with this situation, and in fact not one of us is perfect, "I will be my brother's keeper, not the one who judges him-- I won't despise him for his weakness, or regard him for his strengths, I won't take away his freedom-- I will help him learn to stand." I am applying Rich Mullins' interpersonal anthem to how I treat myself as well as others. There is a sense of freedom that comes when your paradigm of control slips through your grasp and you trust yourself fully into the sovereignty of God; when you take a look at your life under a microscope to see where your energy and effort has been spent and where you really want it to be placed in the context of the cosmos and God and eternity and a very, very short life. I don't want to live my life a mile wide and an inch deep. I thank God for seasons like these that give my introspection validity and real urgency.
I typically blog to sort out my feelings and thoughts, but these days it seems like a river that never stops flowing. It is not my favorite emotional space. Thanks for being on this journey with me.
