It’s a thin line between love and hate. That’s how the story goes right?
These days I feel I am walking a very thin line, teetering tenuously between confidence that I will end on solid stable ground, and terror that I will just fall off.
Balance has never been one of my strong suits. But I try. Every moment of my life I try.
It’s a thin line:
between paid work and “real” work
between schedules and chaos
between strong and terrified
between education and being “over informed”
between smiling and crying
between a cider drink, and a few ounces of straight rum
between prevention and over protectiveness
between not screening, and missing it
between realizing everyone has struggles, and feeling overwhelmed by your own
between knowing it could be a whole lot worse, and wanting to crawl into a corner and give up
between a vacation, and a time to catch up
between feeling lonely and being alone
between cancer and “precancer”
between prevention and overzealous
between holding your girl as she cries in pain, and crying the night away yourself
between asking all the right questions, and asking too many questions
between BEATING COWDEN’S, and giving in…
It’s a thin line.
I am walking it every day this month, as the schedule changes constantly, and the number of days I had nicely confined so as not to overtake our summer quickly begin to envelop July.
I am walking it, as I wait for call backs that never come on time – cell phone pressed into my fingers.
I am walking it as I wait to schedule haircuts, and dentist appointments, and things that “normal” people do.
Why do I ask so many questions? Why do I push for answers no one really wants to give? Why?
Because if I don’t – who will?
It’s not going away.
When I walk the line with Cowden’s syndrome, and vigilance on one side – ignorance and denial seem to be on the other.
I don’t plan to fall – but if I do, I know where I need to land.