Tag: stress

Crying is OKAY here

Published on by beatingcowdens2 Comments

crying is ok

I cried today.  Yep.  That was it.  Couldn’t hold it in one second longer so I pulled the car into a lot.  Thankfully I was alone.  And I rolled up all the windows, locked the doors – and sobbed.

It only lasted about 10 minutes, but I caught a wicked headache, and a bit of stress release from that good old-fashioned hissy fit. 

I generally make a habit of not allowing them.  I am a look at the bright side of life kind of girl.  I like to remind myself about others who have it worse, and try to put myself in other people’s shoes.  It usually works.

Today the emotion got the better of me. And its OK.

tear

Work was stressful.

Supporting my dear husband while he works his tail off three nights a week at school is well worth it, but stressful for all of us.

Homework.  Constant.  Ever changing.  Tests that need to be studied for.  Worry about things not yet complete.  Yep, its only 4th grade.  The teachers are lovely.  The stress is really almost unreal.

Today we went to the Urgi center for X-rays of a foot and ankle that has been bothering Meghan since dance class Monday.  She limped for 2 days before I thought – negligent mother should have a doctor take a look.  Sprained.  Takes time.  (Besides the 2 hours out of the afternoon.)

In addition to Cowden’s Syndrome, Meghan has a few other neat things.  One of her diagnoses is “Benign Hypermobile Joint Syndrome.”  Great – if you can manage your flexibility.  If you can’t it leads to all sorts of random injuries.  We keep a really good PT around… just because.

But, if I am really really honest – I don’t think any of these things pushed me over into that screaming sobbing cry I so desperately needed.  I think it was sadness.  Sadness, mixed with raw fear.

Last night I sat with a friend and her 7th grade son at the wake for the little boy who died last week.  I couldn’t for a minute imagine that any more sadness could fit in that one room.  I had a lot of time to think while we sat.  Maybe too much.

I looked first at his family.  Mom and Dad poised, and carefully greeting each on the never-ending line.  Big Brother and Little Sister, beautiful, supportive, composed.  I told you.  They could have been any of us.  And I am sure they never in their worst nightmare imagined they would be standing there.

And I looked at the police officers, standing in honor.  Each one with red eyes as they tried so hard to remain stoic.  Undoubtedly they had kids of their own, or they knew the young man well – or both.

Children.  Everywhere.  Out of order for a wake.  Except this time it was theirs.  It was their friend.  The kid they sat in class with.  Young preteens – so many of them former students.  Faces raw with emotion.  A night they will never forget.

dogwoods

Tomorrow my friend and I, we will go to the funeral mass.  We will represent our school.  We will try to keep ourselves composed.  But, her thoughts will wander to her boys, and mine to my little girl.  I will think of the “close calls” we have endured, and the many the Cowden’s Syndrome has on the horizon for us.  I shudder at the horror… at the potential.

And yet, if I let it consume me, what life will that be for my girl;  my beautiful, generous, compassionate young lady? 
If I let the tragedy overwhelm me with the reality that at any moment, any of us could be this family, I will lose track of what I have.

If I lose track, if I stop cherishing the blessings I have, I do not give any honor to the memory of this little  boy. 

Instead, I hug tighter.  Try to strengthen the duration of my patience.  Smell the flowers.  Say I love you. Believe in angels.  Remember what really matters.

I can not comfort this family.  My words are useless.  They have to find their way. 

But, I am quite sure now why I cried, and why I had to cry, and why I continue to cry.  I can weep and mourn, with them and for them.

I can hug my little girl, and then hug her again.  I can make memories that matter.

Maybe if we all take some time to show some extra love.  Maybe then we can find a way to keep his memory alive forever.

neverending road

God, hold them in the palm of Your hand – tomorrow, and forevermore.  Amen.

Reality Check

Published on by beatingcowdensLeave a comment

It is not the critic who counts;
not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled
or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man
who is actually in the arena,
whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;
who strives valiantly;
who errs and comes short again and again;
who knows great enthusiasms,
the great devotions;
who spends himself in a worthy cause;
who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement,
and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while
DARING GREATLY
so that his place shall never be
with those timid souls
who know neither victory or defeat.

Theodore Roosevelt
26th President Of The United States

I intended to write something entirely different tonight, but when I started searching for words of encouragement, to ease my overwhelmed soul, I came across some that were worth copying here.

Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying when there seemed to be no hope at all.

  Dale Carnegie
American Author

The whole idea of living with a chronic disease really just stinks.  I mean there are a lot of things, in a lot of people’s lives that just stink, and there are ever so many that I would never for a moment trade places with.  But, that doesn’t change the reality that this genetic disorder, this PTEN mutation, this COWDEN’s SYNDROME, is now part of our “real life,” and I would like to send it back.

Well meaning people, people I love with all my heart, and people I am indifferent to, ask me all the time how we are.  I know they would love to hear that we are great.  They’d like to hear that all is well.  I could tell them that  there are no deep dark fears of tumors or cancers, or surgeries keeping me up at night.  I often lie and say, “great” forgetting to mention the scary headaches, the joint pain and the anxiety that hide behind the beautiful “braces covered” smile of my little girl.  I sometimes say, “we are hanging in there,” which some days means we won’t spend three hours at a doctor’s appointment today, or I am not waiting for a phone call, or a nerve-wracking test result.  Some days it means my heart is in my throat – but I don’t know how to tell you.

I remember when I used to love to eat.  Lots of food – carbs, junk food, candy.  I used to have an appetite, and enough energy to exercise too.  I remember several sizes ago when I had a closet full of clothes.  Now I have enough pants and shirts to get me through.  I remember when my old boobs filled out my tops. 

I sometimes think to myself, “this is not my real life.”  Raw fatigue.  Nerves.  Stress.  Balancing a full-time job, and the normal demands of parenting with the full-time job of managing this disease.  Has it really only been a year that life has been this complicated?  There were always issues.  But a year since the diagnosis.  The confirmation that these risk factors belonged to us.  That they were real, and pressing. 

And yet to look at us – you would never know.  You wouldn’t know of this other life we lead.  This “elephant in the room.” 

Everyone has something.  I have said it a million times before, and I will say it again.  It could ALWAYS be worse, and there is ALWAYS something to be thankful for.  I am grateful for that reality check.

When I don’t call you back for a few weeks.  Or, when I start sending cards late, and losing track of dates.  Don’t worry too much.  We are treading water here.  We will get by.  Just cut us some slack.  Some days it just doesn’t all fit, and some days there is just not enough wine.

TWO bathing suits to pick from!!!!!

Published on by beatingcowdens3 Comments
I never owned a 2 piece suit in my life… even though you can’t tell! 

Sorry about the strange head tilt… Never owned a suit that wasn’t primarily black either!

CAN I HAVE A WOOHOO?  THERE ARE BATHING SUITS AFTER A MASTECTOMY!

 Today after a few annoying things happened (like setting up Meghan’s appointment for Friday morning with the stupid surgeon, and fighting with a credit reporting agency over an old identity theft issue)  I got to try on my new bathing suits. 

Now, this (almost 39 year old) body, is in no condition to model, but I was so very excited I had to share. 

Since the mastectomy I have had a lot of work getting used to my new boobs.  They are smaller than the old ones, and that seems to be just as difficult to adjust to as if they had become bigger.  It just changes everything – the way everything fits and feels. 

I have also had to get used to no underwire – in anything.  That has been an understandable, but difficult transition. So, I have pretty much transformed my closet into tops that worked for me.  Lots of new T shirts, a couple of dress shirts that still need a tuck at the shoulder to tighten them up by the boobs.  But all in all – its going ok. 

When I first put on last years bathing suits I did cry a little.  I had to immediately put all but 1 (which was salvageable, but not great) up in the attic.  Not only did the boobs just not work in those suits, the stress of the last few months has taken off some pounds.  So they were a mess. I ordered 1 suit a few weeks ago.  My husband made me take it off because he said it made my boobs look fake.  (LOL… newsflash honey… )  But I understood. 

Got these in the mail today and got the seal of approval on both.  I have some nerve showing them here… but I want to know what you think. 

So come on tell me – black, pink, or try again? 

Have to have some fun, right?