The day I heard the news seemed like a day I hadn‘t lived myself. I can only see the memories of what happened through the eyes of someone else. I can look back at myself, like a stranger, sitting in the doctor’s office. I remember the words he said. I remember how they stung. How they snatched the words away from the stranger sat in the office. Her face, her expression, I can see now in my thoughts. She bore a knowing look of devastation.
She looked to her family and saw her own expression mirrored back. There was silence in the room. I cannot remember specifics after that but this moment is embedded into my memory, the horror of it’s permanence mocking the nature of my problem the doctor had explained to me.
I believe that nothing can prepare you for that moment inside of a doctor’s office as you process your news. I gave my stranger, my distraught self her time to grieve her old life. I gave her emotional distance. Her family were not so understanding of the space she needed. They showered her with attention, thoughts, cures they had heard of. It overwhelmed her.
Eventually I was able to regain myself. She was no longer a stranger to me. It took its time and it took my strength, my perseverance, it took everything it could from me, but I am here.
Thank you for sharing 💛