My first day of a new class begins at 9:30 AM tomorrow and I have had no ability to focus on my lesson plans. I will be winging it, and hope I am awake enough to get my mind off radiation and the questions for the oncologist I typed up and lost. We meet tomorrow afternoon. Decisions must be made. I wanted to be prepared.
I've started another chapter on my life - a turning point has occurred and I will make a new folder to fill with the stories about the time my husband was diagnosed with lymphoma, the horror of dealing with the medical world while in shock and with my mind breaking into shards like a splintered window. I can't see where I'm going and don't know what I'll find when I get there.
I've gone through the stage of anger, bitterness, and now I'm beginning to accept what we cannot change. Just like the loss of a loved one, the diagnosis brings on the stages of grief even though no one has died.
After falling apart every day for weeks, I've pulled myself out of the grip of terror, and I'm now facing the Beast with my sword in my hands. I'm ready for the fight. Together for forty-four years, we can't let a year of radiation and chemo destroy us. We will come out of this challenge stronger and closer than we've ever been.
Bring on the Beast! He is no match for us. We have come to win.