Begin the Benign

And now when I hear people curse the chance that was wasted,
I know but too well what they mean;
So don't let them begin the beguine
~Cole Porter

I turn 36 on Thursday. 36.

I am also enough of a narcissist to think that I should feel better this week. After all it is MY birthday week. I should feel good. However, I do not. The Drs. Are unsure what is going on, I still have lab pending, and more Drs. And specialists to go to. It has been such a mind screw, that I am not sure if I am coming or going.

I am also feeling a bit betrayed by my body, and mind. Because I really have taken excellent care of myself this year. I made my health a priority. I meditate, I exercise, I believe in good nutrition. I was feeling better than I ever have.

So tonight I sit here, not feeling my usual 20-something self. My body feels like someone else's.

There is also Dear Husbands job, is he going away to guard the border, is he staying here, is he going to have additional job duties? Yeah, that too is up in the air, and seems to change minute by minute.


So tonight is the type of night I will lie in my bed, and try and recall the best moments of the day. The moment when Dash told me I was "the prettiest mom in the World", or when Pink Ninja nuzzled to my neck making her sweet little puppy noises.
I will recall that day I walked into my Dear Husbands office, and he stopped everything and smiled perfectly, and I felt beautiful.

I will also have flickers of the illness I have witnessed through the years as a hospice nurse. Memories of family illnesses, and lost hair, and nausea, and the fear that comes with that. My Uncles pancreatic cancer, my Aunts breast cancer, my Mothers colon cancer. The Drs. That diagnosed wrong....

I will recall being in nursing school, and working oncology at Christmas. That Mother who was 35, with 2 children, making plans for the future of her children, because she had received news she might make it to New Years.

These flickers, are not merely my memories snapshots. I recall voices, and phonecalls, Drs. visits, the smell of bleach off of my own uniform, a dehydrated hand holding on to mine, tissues dampened with tears, I can even hear the sound of that Mother singing lullabyes to her grown daughter as she was dying.

I will lie in bed tonight, and count my BLESSINGS. I will say my prayers, and I will think of those I have seen fade away, only to shine brilliantly elsewhere.

I will also rethink writing this post at all, because in a couple of weeks I will hear that all is well, it was simply an ovarian cyst, and the polyps are benign, and all is well. I will then feel embarrassed to have worried so much, and caused worry in others, and I will feel guilty because my faith is not what it used to be.