The Roller Coaster

I saw this on the PostSecret web site a few weeks ago, and put it in the back of my mind. But now, unfortunately, it means a lot more to me right now.

 

And so merrily we roll along.

 

Highlights:

• I gave a final today, returned to my office, then immediately received a phone call that my son had a 102 degree fever and needed to be picked up from day care. ARE YOU F-ING KIDDING ME?!
• I scooped up pretty much everything that was on my desk in my office and went and got my son, crying the whole time. Like, I realize things could be worse, and for that reason I do not want to complain, but COULD YOU CUT ME A FUCKING BREAK HERE?!
• I got my son and took him home, and eventually my husband (who of course was working with his boss today) came home, and managed both kids while I headed off to my MRI.
• The MRI sucked.
• In reality, it probably wasn't that bad except that I was already in a very bad place mentally, and the IV injection was insanely painful due to the fact that I am on Xarelto, and all the injections as of late have left both of my AC veins ridiculously swollen and bruised. The MRI itself involves lying face down in this contraption that holds and squishes your boobs, which is extremely awkward and somewhat humiliating if you're already feeling super emo. 
• So of course I cried the whole fucking time.
• Fortunately, a breast MRI doesn't take nearly as long as a hip MRI.
• And then, after the MRI, I tried to pull myself together to go to my EMT class to take the final exam, and... I really couldn't pull myself together.
• This is hard, for a number of reasons, one of which is that I hate failing, and I have a public persona of always being put together. I also hate the idea of not being able to pass a class that people who haven't even graduated from high school yet are going to pass. I like to consider myself a competent and responsible person, one who should be able to pass a class that pretty much anyone who is 18 or older can take and pass.
• Also, there are people in my EMT class who are either former students of mine, or current students in the biology department at my college, and other things that make it hard for me to not be able to cry when I need to cry.
• Fortunately, a lot of these people are pretty cool, including my instructor and one of the women who sits next to me in class regularly.
• Because of the timing of my MRI and the fact that I didn't have time to go home between the MRI and class, I got to class a little early, and had a rare, one-on-one opportunity with my EMT instructor. I unloaded everything on him, and told him that while I really wanted to pass the class, and was trying to hold it all together for the next week, I wasn't sure if that would be possible.
• He assured me I could pass the class, and that he would do what he needed to to make it happen. This wasn't an easy thing for me, but at the same time, I do feel like I've been extremely dedicated to this class all semester and 'deserve' this. I felt so thankful that my instructor recognized the effort I've been putting into the class since January, and also felt like it shouldn't go to waste.
• After this conversation with the instructor, I sat down to try to study for the final in the 20-30 minutes I had before class started. However, immediately thereafter, one of my classmates came in and plopped down next me, and started chatting.
• Awkwardly enough, this classmate is actually a patient care tech and anesthesiology tech at the very place I am going to have surgery in a week. I realized this earlier in the day, and was thinking it would be SUPER WEIRD, and was thus trying to think of a way to tell her.
• Also of note... this woman is super competent, but also super snarky (which I LOVE, because I'm also super snarky, which is perhaps why we've gotten along so well). She can easily pass the 'competency' part of the practicals but sometimes fails because she 'exhibits inappropriate affect with patients.' LOL.
• Anyway, she sat down next to me and we started talking about our level of preparation for the exam. Finally, I said the exam really wasn't high priority for me, and then told her about the breast cancer. Given her personality, I was sort expecting some super insensitive remark, and was ready to be okay with it, but in her typically snarky manner, she replied, 'Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry!' And right then and there, I knew things were going to be okay. Then she asked me who my doctor was, and when I told her it was Dr. L, she assured me that she was THE BEST. (OMG, YES, SHE'S THE BEST!)
• It was all good, and reassuring enough that I didn't start crying all over again.
• Then she said that one way or another, she would definitely see me next Monday, which made me glad I had told her. I said I would be sure to throw up on her. LOL. (A common theme in EMT class is that you will definitely get thrown up on.)

On a different note, so far I've been telling people about this on a 'need to know' basis, but today I finally told my book club friends about all of this, since I am supposed to host the book club in a few weeks. I got so many amazingly supportive responses, but perhaps the one that's most meaningful at this point, which is something I alluded to previously, was: The hardest lesson you are going to have to learn is to let go of the idea that letting others help out will make you look, feel or seem weak. It's not true, let us take the kids, buy groceries, make dinner, do homework or housework, or whatever. 

 

It's enough to make me start crying all over again. As a pretty 'closed' person with not very many close friends, it is creepy to think I have a friend who can sees this in me, as if s/he is reading my mind. At the same time, it is also such a privilege. There have been many times in my life when I have not had friends to lean on, even in the most difficult of circumstances (like lying in bed on bed rest for three months with literally just me, myself, and I). In a way it is comforting to know that perhaps the hardest part about this won't be constantly throwing up or losing my hair, but instead learning to accept others' help.