As I was getting ready for work a few days ago, my mind flashed back to the date of diagnosis. My heart raced and my eyes watered. Why? Why am I thinking about that today? Ah, it was the 22nd... the monthiversary of my diagnosis. It's been nine months, surely I won't think about it on the 22nd of each and every month. Good God, enough is enough.
As I realized why I was thinking about my diagnosis, my thoughts turned to my Mom. She's at the stage I was in February - her surgery is done, she's healing, and is waiting to find out what treatments she's going to need. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting sucks, too, by the way. But Mom handles it with courage and grace - and big heaping of "let's get 'er done" attitude.
I feel as though I were a puddle of mush during my cancer journey and I am in awe of my mother and the way she deals with hers. Where it seemed like days before I even left the house after my surgery, she was raring to go. It's true we each handle diagnosis and treatment our own way, no one can dictate how we should think or feel, or what we should do. But if you're going through what Mom and I had to go through, I wish you strength. I wish you courage. I wish you hope. And I wish you a big ol' heaping of "just get 'er done" attitude. It's a good thing.