I’m noticing the times my brain starts to go to all the unfairness of it all.
The things and experiences I’m feeling robbed of….
I’m trying to honor that. Allow space for the lost expectations while at the same time actively looking for the gifts of each circumstance.
Like while I will need to wean Melody from breastfeeding, and that will mean things will look different and be hard for a while, while this wasn’t my CHOICE, I have had the gift of nursing her successfully almost 11 months.
what a gift I HAVE time to wean her. Many moms aren’t given that gift of extra warning time in a cancer diagnosis.
And while it’s sucky I have eye cancer, what a gift that I have been dealing with vision issues since I was eight and am highly sensitive to my vision changing at all—which meant that I noticed quickly when the tumor started to just mildly affect my vision.
While I’m pissed I won’t be able to workout for likely a good month or longer, what a gift that I have been working so hard on my mental health for so long so I have other tools to keep me feeling good outside of endorphins.
And while it’s been a lot of information in a short time, what a gift that I had an eye doctor who listened, and multiple doctors period who took my vision changes seriously—because many people with this diagnosis are left running in circles trying to find out what is going on since the cancer is so rare and unheard. So what a gift I had doctors who took it seriously and have been acting so fast.
While it feels unfair I’ll have to spend a week away from my kids and husband and basically be self quarantined for a week away from them, what a gift that I’ll be able to do that, because I have an amazing capable husband who can more than handle solo parenting, and loving family and friends ready to help at the drop of a hat.
While I may lose the hair (lashes) on my eye from radiation, have other side effects that will potentially affect my vision on some level—what a gift that they CAN isolate radiation only to my eye to treat something like this, so I won’t deal with extensive hair loss like with chemotherapy and radiation for other cancers.
I’ve decided and keep re-deciding— that there is no rule book for how to do this.
No rules about how emotional I’m supposed to feel. Or not feel. Or how long it takes me to process it. Or if I have a good day or hard day. Or if I make my family dinner or order out or accept meals from friends. Or if my kids spend a whole afternoon watching tv because I’m on the computer emailing clients just trying to work on something important to me for 30 minutes. Or if I sleep in or wake up early. Or if I feel like cracking jokes or crying. Or if I sing myself hoarse in the car driving back from a COVID test I would rather have not had.
So yes, while this is a life experience I would rather not live, I HAVE lived my life to this point. Fully. And I’m grateful for the gift of being able to appreciate where I am right now. Even if the next second I want to scream at the next doctors office to call me. 
I’ll end with lyrics from the song, “I lived.” Thats been stuck on my heart today.
“I, I did it all
I owned every second that this world could give
I saw so many places, the things that I did
Yeah with every broken bone
I swear I lived!”
And dammit I’m going to keep on living each moment as it comes.
Rebellious Hope 