Ideas and a Mea Culpa
First, the idea: I've decided to start posting here as a kind of journal while I work through my issues with creativity and my interactions with God – which are very often the same things. Good idea, A++
Second, a confession: My earlier Facebook post about my health may have read as thoughtful and mature. But in reality is was the result of a mini-temper tantrum a few days ago.
I went to schedule my next haircut appointment and the receptionist replied that the date in my normal time frame fell on Nov 7th... which is the date of my next follow-up mammograms, scan, and surgeon appointment. I got flustered and had to apologize and hung up.
I was so mad!
Like, not scared about the mammograms but just mad because I want to be done feeling like my time is not my own ("Mine! My own! My preciousssssss!") I want to not have ot think about bra I should wear so I'm not sore by the end of the day or have to keep track of a doctor's appointment six months out. We scheduled our 're-do' Food & Wine Festival trip next month around the next mammogram so it wouldn't be hanging over our heads while we're there (like it was last October and with family over the holidays and our family trip this past February) then the surgeon had to change the date of the mammograms and appointment.
GAH!!
Then reality hit and I realized I was acting like a brat (it's ok, I was.) Because I'm fine, with only a few uncomfortable-but-totally-normal things that sometimes linger after treatment. I'm really lucky to have time, and a trip to take, and decisions to make, and haircuts. And a left breast for pete sake. And I found out the mammograms/appointment change was only because my surgeon had the audacity to have her baby. The nerve... 😉
So then I cried to Rusty about how I'm such a jerk.
I know I'm not a jerk and that feeling like this is fairly normal. But I don't like that I know all that and yet still lost my sh*t from time to time. I know better.
Also, I need to confess that I picked a bad week to stop drinking tasty beer and try to finish a bathroom.
Second, a confession: My earlier Facebook post about my health may have read as thoughtful and mature. But in reality is was the result of a mini-temper tantrum a few days ago.
I went to schedule my next haircut appointment and the receptionist replied that the date in my normal time frame fell on Nov 7th... which is the date of my next follow-up mammograms, scan, and surgeon appointment. I got flustered and had to apologize and hung up.
I was so mad!
Like, not scared about the mammograms but just mad because I want to be done feeling like my time is not my own ("Mine! My own! My preciousssssss!") I want to not have ot think about bra I should wear so I'm not sore by the end of the day or have to keep track of a doctor's appointment six months out. We scheduled our 're-do' Food & Wine Festival trip next month around the next mammogram so it wouldn't be hanging over our heads while we're there (like it was last October and with family over the holidays and our family trip this past February) then the surgeon had to change the date of the mammograms and appointment.
GAH!!
Then reality hit and I realized I was acting like a brat (it's ok, I was.) Because I'm fine, with only a few uncomfortable-but-totally-normal things that sometimes linger after treatment. I'm really lucky to have time, and a trip to take, and decisions to make, and haircuts. And a left breast for pete sake. And I found out the mammograms/appointment change was only because my surgeon had the audacity to have her baby. The nerve... 😉
So then I cried to Rusty about how I'm such a jerk.
I know I'm not a jerk and that feeling like this is fairly normal. But I don't like that I know all that and yet still lost my sh*t from time to time. I know better.
Also, I need to confess that I picked a bad week to stop drinking tasty beer and try to finish a bathroom.
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