Dear Thyroid Cancer,
I search for the blessing in your curse.
You have surprised me in so many ways...next time you are totally NOT invited to my birthday party.
Your diagnosis pulled the blanket back I was using to cover up all the things I did not want to address in my marriage. For that I am reluctantly grateful.
Glennon Doyle Melton and Elizabeth Gilbert remind us that we don't have to "almost die" in order to change things that don't serve...
I wish my husband and I had not had to endure surgery, fear, the Google in the middle of the night, tension, anxiety, more fear, over planning, etc.......in order to change some things (like me speaking up about the things I needed and ways I wanted to care for him).
Srsly, why couldn't we just schedule that on a Monday after cup-of-coffee #2?
Instead we had to have a cough, x-ray, CAT scan, needle biopsy, radioactive iodine pill, and then quarantine.
I'm just gonna say it: you [cancer] are inconvenient, annoying and expensive.
Please go away. Forever.
I totally get your response to Romeo now!!!!!!
I used to think you were a silly teenager in love. But when the one you love may die, everything in you wants to die too.
I get it: I am a teenager in love, too.
Love is tragic and dear, IKR?
How long am I allowed to use your power?
When my husband first learned of his required quarantine (#jealous) my brain went to crazy places.
Instead of being prepared and supportive, I couldn't get a song out of my head: El Muelle de San Blas by Mana.
I ordered a swing frame to plant in our side yard; it overlooks our driveway. I became the widow in the song...waiting in that swing until my husband came home. I would wait until my long gray hair joined the crawling Starlight Jasmine that grows up the swing's frame. Hello, Meh-lah-drah-mah.
(Get it??? It's like Psych (Sike) Dab, but Sniff Gag?? Ha ha 5th grade humor!!)