EKG normal
Back from the cardiologist. Gown open in front. Two more on the stranger count. Everything is fine. Did another short EKG and the results were normal. BP, stethoscope sounds, all fine. He made no additional recommendations for tests and cleared me for surgery. I kind of figured it was stress related and would be fine.
Next appointment will be with the plastic surgeon on Tuesday 1/21. I don’t expect to get any other results or updates any time soon. BRCA will probably take a few weeks.
T minus two weeks and counting. Did I mention that I hate to wait?
waiting
I’ve been thinking that I need to make myself a mix CD (playlist for my hipster friends) as a soundtrack for this process. Currently streaming in my brain is “The Waiting” – Tom Petty. Great tune! My girls have changed their ringtones for my number to “Survivor” – Destiny’s Child. (Not my choice) Had a friend recently suggest beautiful song by an unsigned band entitled “Walking by Your Side” -thanks Andrea! Music, chatting, blogging… these have been very cathartic for me. The waiting sucks–period. I’m trying to employ every coping strategy that I know, but the waiting is wearing on me. I am having more and more difficulty focusing as my brain is so easily led astray. Trying to behave normally is like trying to resume normal breathing when your doctor says, “ok, now breathe normally.” The natural process of aspiration becomes unnatural as soon as someone brings your attention to it. Live normally. Going about my daily goings-on is… well, not a challenge, but is just not natural. It’s weird, I am constantly distracted. As though my brain weren’t active enough on an average day, to describe my thought processes these days might be an insult to manic people. “Rapid thoughts” just doesn’t do it justice. I’m like a three year old on crack. Questions, ideas, lists, thoughts, more questions, I gotta do that, what if… It’s time for a “chill-pill” if you know what I mean. I surrender – I’m calling my doc tomorrow.
My next issue is fear. I admit it, I’m scared. Scared of surgery, scared of waking up and being shocked and saddened at my appearance, scared of the pain, scared that I won’t finish school and get a much needed and long overdue job, scared of test results, scared of recurrence, scared of results, scared of chemo… I think you get my point. Irrational fears perhaps, but that is what maniacal anxiety is about. Maybe they’re irrational, but they are based in reality. Here I go sounding writer-esque…. they are my reality – my new, unexpected and unwanted reality… and I’m pissed about it. I wasn’t expecting this. I’m trying to prepare for what’s down the road the best I can, but the fear of the unknown is wearing on me. Sure I’m strong, but this damn waiting… I thought the stay strong and fight messages were a little dramatic not to mention overly pink and strangely glorified. I have a new appreciation for those motivational fight messages. I get it. I need a good fight song. Hhmmmm.
And then there is winter storm warning in the forecast for tomorrow. I hope I can still make it to my plastic surgeon visit. Damn… more waiting.