- My mammogram and examinations showed no signs of breast cancer or anything else that may fall into the sinister bracket. Whilst I felt mostly calm about it, there was still that “what if” lurking around at the back of my mind and the last week has not been my idea of fun. At all.
- My hip appears to have recovered and I am able to go for my regular oh so lovely and oh so needed runs. Even after a full month of only walks, I was thrilled to discover I could run my 6k-loop without keeling over. #winning
- I’m on course to get a hearing aid. I will hear again! Properly! Not say “sorry” a gazillion times whilst aiming my left ear at people or give up and nod because I can’t bear to ask yet another time for them to repeat themselves. Nor will I have to survey the layout of a table and position myself so that my left ear is aimed towards others.
My 10k walk this morning was beautiful – the fog was thick over the park and it was gorgeous. A little eerie, but I like that. It’s how I roll.
Most course work done and dusted and I was pleasantly surprised to find I’d done most of it at the time, except for a case study, but wrote that one up today so all good to go. Whether I pass is all is another matter though, given I felt like I was just vomiting random words at one point, but that’s another worry for another day.
- Fuckall. No really. Nothing.
Honestly – do I really have much to complain about? Boobie-related scare is now over with. Dread about the classroom part of the studies I guess I will just continue to push through until I (hopefully) find the amount of pushing required lessens … which it will if I stick at it. Fears are there to be faced. It’s how we grow. And my mantra remains the same and I repeat it to myself every time my anxiety has me in knots: HERE I GROW AGAIN. I believe it was one of you beautiful souls who handed that little phrase to me here in a comment, actually. It’s become my guiding light, kinda. That and Carl Jung’s words: “where your fear is, there your task is“.
Well, that’s me. Life on life’s terms and once again – just fucking IMAGINE what these weeks would have been like (and FELT like) had I still been drinking. An angry boobie? Jesus, that would have been unbearably stressful. Instead, here I am, and whilst I’m not going to pretend I didn’t freak out, I dealt with it. Calmly (ish) and that was that.
Oh, a disclaimer – if you find something wrong with your boobie, it is absolutely fucking fine to freak out big style. By all means do. It’s scary as hell. But then deal with it. Don’t pick up a drink, pick up the phone – to your doctor so they can get you checked. And whilst it could be something shitty, there are tonnes of things that can happen with boobies that can cause pain and discomfort and most of the time it’s not the dreaded C. …and sometimes it is. Someone I know recently got diagnosed with the dreaded C in a boobie and I feel ill just thinking about it. I actually feel almost guilty that my result was a good one. Bottom line though, whatever it might be, get it checked because even if it’s the worst you could imagine it’s always better to find it and fight it sooner rather than later. And no matter what – it’s fine to freak out. Don’t drink or use, but by all means freak out if you need to. And then deal with it.
Gosh, bit of a depressing message, no?
Here’s a more positive one, however:
Today I’m not going to drink.