Okay – several things…
First? I’ve been getting some questions, so I thought I’d post an update on my “suspicious mass” situation. Since writing about it last week, I’ve made an appointment with a general surgeon for February 8. I also called my doctor to see what she thought of the MRI results and what I should expect going forward. She said that the MRI ruled out things like hernias, etc. but didn’t actually provide any answers as to exactly what the nasty little thing is.
She said that it could either be a growth resulting from scar tissue/sutures (it’s less than an inch above my c-section scar) or it could be a small tumor. Oh yeah, and it’s “a little bit larger than a grape” – a comparison that has made my aversion to fruit even stronger, I might add. Basically she said that, “it doesn’t look scary, but it definitely shouldn’t be there.” They want to figure out exactly what it is – so it has to come out. I’m not really feeling married to it right now…so that’s fine with me.
The surgery will most likely be out patient and I’ll have a very small scar (which is the last thing I care about at the moment). All in all – it’s probably nothing and that’s what we’re all assuming. But waiting isn’t easy and I DO have an imagination. I also have some serious fears involving surgery. This surprised my husband, who was supporting me on the “it’s nothing,” theory. But even if I can block out any other possible outcomes – I STILL don’t like the idea of being cut open. I asked him if he had any recollection of my previous feelings about surgery and hospitals. Because this phobia really isn’t anything new.
When I had my wisdom teeth removed in my twenties, I (still very doped up) thanked everyone on my way out because “I didn’t feel a thing – it really wasn’t that bad!” Not to mention the fact that I planned a rather unpleasant gynecological procedure for the same afternoon so that I would be in too much pain/too drugged up from my earlier dental surgery to be scared.
Then there was that time I was a week overdue with Oliver, and we were getting ready to leave for the hospital so I could be induced. I burst into tears because I didn’t want to go. I just wanted “the whole thing to be over!“
And who could forget my foray into acupuncture to try to “turn” breach baby George seven months into my twin pregnancy. I would try anything to avoid the dreaded c-section. I even made my doctor check when I was being prepped for the OR, “just in case” we had a last minute miracle. Ridiculous – but my fear had no shame.
I have never been keen on the idea of medical procedures. In fact years ago, I once said to a friend that “I NEVER want to have to have surgery. It’s a goal.” Since then I’ve had a couple of hits to my no surgery ever streak, but none of the suspicious mass variety.
I may not be planning my funeral, but I still have a lot on my mind.
And to be honest, I’ve been feeling kind of down lately. For a long time really. Off and on, I mean. Every once in a while when I write about something serious or semi-serious, various online friends comment about my “honesty.” This is a little ironic because I’ve never had the reputation for being particularly open about fears and sadness. I have a tendency to tune out anything negative, just so I can get through the day. Focus on the good things. Aim for happy.
That’s really a big priority at this point in my life. I used to want to live in a certain kind of house in a certain kind of city and attain a certain lifestyle with a certain amount of material wealth. Nothing big and flashy – just some minor luxuries to augment what I already had and appreciated as a fairly charmed life. And of course that involved clothes, furniture…things… Now? I just want to have a nice day.
And it’s not that I’m not having a nice day, most days – I’m just struggling with some personal failure issues, and it’s wearing on me. In short – I think I’m kind of depressed. Since I’ve been called honest, I’m just going to say it.
Or no – I’m just going to write it. It seems that I’m more honest when I’m writing. Maybe it’s cowardly…or maybe it’s just that saying things makes it all sound far more dramatic than I want. Or than it is.
I’m really not a very dramatic person. I used to think this made me a little boring. Now that I’m older with children and worries that stretch beyond not being able to afford a new pair of shoes, I view my lack of drama as a good thing. I’m more practical. A realist. I know how to get through the day with as little stress as possible. I value happiness.
So having admitted to myself these feelings of inadequacy and their current snowball effect (seriously – just now), I believed I’m tasked with actually doing something about it.
That means that I need to streamline things a bit. Try to focus a little more on all of these areas where I’m falling short. Where I’m ultimately failing the people I love – including myself.
I started this blog as a creative outlet. Previously, I had never written anything but e-mails to friends and business documents. I wanted to try something else – see if there was anything to this idea that I could write something more significant. What better way than to send a message out into the void. No pressure and no chance of failure. A safe, elegant solution. And it was great. I found out a lot about myself – both good and bad. I now have new ideas and some confidence to back them up. I have a better sense of self.
But I’m also stretched rather thin, and the amount of time and energy that I expend on “writing” is taking away from the rest of my real life responsibilities. Which contributes to personal and family stress, screws up priorities and generally makes me feel like an all around failure – none of which makes for a nice day.
At the risk of sounding dramatic – you know how I try not to do that – I think I’ve reached critical point in my life where some decisions need to be made. Fun hobbies may need to be put on hold for a while. And until it actually earns a paycheck that will help support my family, blogging is a hobby.
So I’m taking a few steps back from what I started here almost three years ago. From spending hours sending messages into the void. If I want to write every week, then I need to find a way to make it pay for the time spent.
But I can’t go away altogether. I’ll post a picture here and there. An anecdote or two. A link to something great that someone else wrote. Post something a friend who doesn’t have a blog would like to say – their own message into the void.
And I’ll tell myself that this is temporary. And maybe it will be. And maybe it won’t. Maybe I’ll be back next week with a “forget what I said and let us never speak of this again” request. Or maybe I’ll just hit delete and be done with it.
I don’t know…
But right now I’m thinking I’ll hang out on the fringes. I’ll post bits and pieces here (and yes – an update on my surgery) and more pretty stuff will show up on Wishing True. I’ll devote more time to Style Key West (because I do get paid for that you know – thanks Mom and Dad!). I’ll still show up in your comments section now and again, and you’ll stay in my Google Reader.
We’re not breaking up, we’re just taking a break. And hey – maybe we’ll be stronger for it.
I’m hoping I will.
Comments closed on this one. Instead, I’ll wish you love and luck and more nice days than you can count.