Limbo AKA Waiting for April 11

Welcome back to the blog. I don't want my blogs to seem whiny, so I am sorry if they have been. That's not the intent. Ever.  I use this as a place to get things out of my head because I need to. As an English major person, the written word is my weapon of choice when trying to articulate emotions of any kind. I fail often at the verbal kinds of emoting. This is going to be a blog vomit kind of situation. I apologize in advance. So if you made it with me this far, thank you. 

I feel like I am in limbo. Right now, there is no definite yes or no on anything. It's been five months since my diagnosis. It will be five months tomorrow since Dr. Soderberg told me I had cancer. And it's still there. Still hanging out, waiting for us to do something about it, taking up space. I feel really helpless in doing anything. I am losing weight like they told me. Watching what I eat. Exercising. Doing all the things I'm supposed to be doing. However, none of that addresses the cancer directly, so I'm not really sure what to do about that as my brain can't seem to wrap itself around that aspect of this whole thing.

People ask me all the time what kind of treatment I've had or what my oncologist is doing to treat it. When I say nothing, other than the December surgery, I get this weird look. Yeah, don't worry, I feel that, too. I feel uncertainty in that look. Like, can't they do more? Is there nothing to be done? Did you get a second opinion? What are you waiting for? Why are you waiting so long? What if it spreads? What then? Oh, believe me. These questions haunt my nightmares, too. A lot. It's this constant conversation I have with God as I beg Him to take my fear and anger and anxiety about the whole thing away. And He does. He calms me down. He makes it better. That's about that moment a well-timed text or phone call comes. Just in time to save me from my thoughts. Just in time to get me out of my own head and bring His assurance that He has this figured out. He will have the victory, of that I am assured. 

I do, sometimes, feel like I am in no man's land, though. That's honest. I am stuck in this chasm of not knowing. April 11 is my next oncology appointment. The days and hours are dragging to this appointment. This is the appointment that determines surgery. I have no idea what to expect. Since little to no communication has actually happened since my surgery in December between myself and my oncology team other than about my bill, I really have no idea what is going on. Maybe ignorance is bliss. I just hope my progress is enough for my doctor and she will proceed and set a surgery date. Here's hoping. The waiting is frustrating. 

It would be nice to have answers. I feel like answers have been a long time coming. What is the next step? Really, that's all I need. I can't take my next step until I know their next step. I am limbo-ing in place and getting weary from the dance. Sometimes it feels like life is going on all around me and I am just at a standstill awaiting an answer that is just out of reach. It's coming, though. On April 11, one way or another, there is an answer. I have three appointments that day. My oncologist, my dietician, and my nutritionist. It's going to be a good time. 

Sorry, friends. Sitting at this Caribou typing this out and hoping someone will read it makes me feel like I am connected to someone out there. It's been a pretty lonely day and I feel a million miles away from all of the people whom I care about and who care about me. It's been a little rough. I am trying to find my sunny, optimistic self today, but it is hard and I just have to admit that it's been kind of a crappy day in the uplifting department. I think it's okay to admit when I'm having a not so great day. It can't be rainbows and sunshine all the time. That's not realistic.  And I think being realistic about the things I struggle with is better than sugar-coating the struggle because that doesn't help, either. I just need a couple (or a few hundred) hugs, a good cry, and my friends and family. I can't do it alone, and I don't want to. That's why I need you guys to pray, to be there, to just generally be your awesome selves. Support system, assemble! Don't worry, I'm really okay. It's just been a day, you know? I'm good. God's got me. He'll bring back my joy today. He always does. 

God bless you, my dear friends. He'll get me through this. Thanks for reading/listening. I am grateful and thankful for all of you.