I have went back and forth,on even posting this? But the emotional roller-coaster of the past 24 has my head screaming to write.
Yesterday was my birthday.
Yesterday, I found a lump on my breast.
Yesterday, I felt fear.
Am still feeling fear.
I am still feeling fear, and so many other feelings. I don’t even know if they have names for those feelings?
And I started my day so normal. As I would any other weekday, getting ready for work and thinking of plans later for the evening celebrating with my family… And here, not even 24 hrs later. I realize this fear has changed me. Already.
Maybe it’s temporary. Maybe it will mark my words with its color forever.
But angrily I resent it. I hate that it’s making me cry incoherent thoughts by witnessing the sunset, and its rise this morning. Or last night, seeing smiles exchanged between lovers- oh I despise this lump, it has isolated me to these riotous feelings, and has even had my doctor preparing me for the worst.
24 hours. Actually more like 22.
Irony, right? That I couldn’t wait 22hrs to be introduced personally to the ‘c’ word? That word- I can’t even type it right now. But its apparent discovery, had to be on my birthday? Talk about a grand entrance of entrances.
Happy birthday to me, huh?!
I just feel so betrayed-by my body,by the timing of the universe. And there’s not a fucking thing I can I do, could have done, to change it.
Not even my words here can change it.
All I can do is move through my day, a shell of who I was, and await results. And fluctuate between angry sulking, and tearful confusion that ‘THIS’ is actually happening.