Stuck in Human Form

Yet another waiting room filled with people who were at least 20 years older than me. Even though I expect it, I have never gotten used to it. Not only do I feel out of place, but it reminds me how unlucky my situation is. I get jealous of all the people in good health, and all the years spent without the anxiety that comes with a diagnosis like cancer or BRCA positive.  I am also extremely  jealous of the lack of medical bills. I almost started crying when I saw how much the MRI cost me. After checking in, a nurse led me to small curtained area outside of the MRI room. She asked a lot of medical questions that I can't remember, I was too busy staring at the MRI machine through the little window in the door in front of me. I was not looking forward to this. I had to change out of all my clothes except for my underwear. I couldn't wear jewelry, and was asked to not wear perfume or deodorant. I was swimming in the one-size-fits-most hospital gown, pants, and ...

Until recently, I hadn't ever used affirmations, I hadn't needed them. I started using affirmations and mantras before I realized exactly what I was doing, and before I admitted to myself why I needed them. Every day is a battle. Some days I can make it through smoothly. Some days I cry. Some days I have a panic attack. After I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I opened up more and began discussing my anxiety with others. One of my coworkers, one of the most zen people I know, gave me a set of mala beads. Mala beads are supposed to help with meditation, but you don't need to meditate to find them useful. My coworker told me to say my affirmation of choice with each bead. There is a freedom in these beads, because I can use whatever affirmation works best for me. When I start to feel overwhelmed, I hold the beads one-by-one and repeat my current affirmation. It helps to calm me down sometimes, by making me focus on something. But sometimes, I still get so angry and...

Words are so powerful. One very short sentence changed my life, and not for the better. "It's cancer." One short sentence, and I watched the words turn into a bomb and destroy the future I had planned. I had made the appointment to discuss my biopsy results for a Friday afternoon. My doctor called me that morning saying that the results weren't in yet. Instead, we rescheduled for the following Monday morning with hopes that the final results would be completed. I spent the weekend in an almost constant state of anxiety. The more time went on, the more sure I was that the results weren't going to be good. Surely if the pathologist hadn't seen anything suspicious, they would have been confident enough diagnosing it as 'not a cancer tumor' (official medical terminology) by Friday. I also couldn't figure out why my doctor would be so certain that the results would be back on Monday morning if they weren't back by Friday morning. Pathologists...