Sometimes You Just Need a Good Cry

Its been a hard two days of juggling work, the role of mom and wife, and cancer. Two long days of tests and appointments and blood work and waiting and complications, two different contrast dyes, blood dripping down my clothes, a cardiac nurse who accessed my port - probably her first one since nursing school - etc., etc.,  I answered the question "are you pregnant or breastfeeding" SIX times Tuesday afternoon. Why, no. No, I'm not.

Brian and Becky were stuck with the chore of live-texting through the adventure, so I won't document it step by step here. I actually managed to make it through the 6 hours at Vanderbilt Tuesday afternoon/evening and felt tired, but good. What I had forgotten is that the emotional fall-out always hits the next day for me.

And, unfortunately, the next day involved a busy morning at work then a rushed trip to the Sarah Cannon Cancer Center. The lines were out the door. The waiting room was full. The oncologist I was supposed to see had been called out of town so they'd given me a substitute (who was a lung specialist, not gynecological). No one seemed to know what was going on. Extra sets of labs just in case. Brian was stuck in traffic and over an hour late.

I just did not want to be in yet another exam room. Rehash the last 4 years. Hear another oncologist tell me my case baffles them, but that ultimately there's nothing they can do to eradicate the cancer, just try to keep it from taking over my body for as long as possible.

Jenne and Kari saved the day. Not only did they drop everything, grab up their babies and come to Sarah Cannon when they heard Brian was stuck in traffic, but they brought those cute babies and stroller and carriers right into our little exam room, laid hands on us and prayed. The ugly cry made an appearance, but it was okay.

And when the appointment was over, Brian headed back to Clarksville to pick up the kids, and Jenne, Kari, the babies, and I camped out at P.F. Chang's for a whole lot of bites (as they put it). We took advantage of the 4:00 lunch menu and appetizer happy hour. We all laughed, talked, and did enough crying that I am certain we scared our server.

It was after dark and past time for me to make it home in time for church by the time I left Nashville, there were multiple traffic jams, and it was Becky's turn to join me in the ugly cry on the phone. Side note: not the best idea to drive at night with eyes swollen from crying and then add more tears to the mix. 

I'm already a bit better this morning. A good cry plus sleep is restorative. But I do find myself in a questioning, doubting, why is this happening state of mind the last several days. It's hard work to keep trusting that good really can come out of this ugliness and that God can redeem these days and this situation for my husband, children, family and friends. It's hard looking forward to a very uncertain future. It's hard to think about the decisions that are going to need to be made, maybe sooner than we'd like.

In my immediate future, however, I'm going to try to finish the 8-10 hours worth of work I brought home with me in 6.5 hours today. All while listening to the kids argue through their NINTH snow day in a row. And when I finish up that, we're going to proceed to have a good couple of days as we wait for the next appointment on Tuesday. It's Rory's 7th Family Day this weekend, and while we haven't decided how to celebrate (pretty much because it totally snuck up on us), we will do some celebrating. 

And when that family celebration is over, Brian and I have date night scheduled (at the Ryman Auditorium!) this weekend.



Mayme said…
I'm totally over snow days!!!

I'm so sorry Melissa. For your heavy heart, for the fact that this just plainly STINKS, for the wretched horrible terrible crappy thing that is cancer.

I love you guys and am praying. And ugly crying, as much as I hate when I let it take me over, is just the greatest release!! I've done my fair share in the last year.
Vicky said…
The RYMAN! OH!! It'll sweep you away. I pray you are feeling up to it.

We talked about so much of this at our Fourward meeting this week. I'm so sorry its so scary and we're so deeply surrendered to it all, and yet how do we keep trusting when it makes no sense at all?

I'm praying for the light to enter through the brokenness. For comfort, peace, and joy to find you. Much love and many, many prayers going out to you.
Owlhaven said…
oooooohhhhh....sigh.....wishing I could help you bear this burden. Love and prayers,
I wish we all had words of wisdom for you! All I can think of over and over is we are praying for toy and I'm so sorry!
Unknown said…
You are so precious! As I tell my daughter (and myself) many times, crying lets some of the sadness out! Praying for you!
Unknown said…
We all need to cry sometimes, i hope you feel better now.
Krista said…
Yes... yes you do. I can't imagine how many emotions are being felt by you right now. love and hugs to you
I wish I could shoulder some of this for you. I find that a good cry sometimes leaves me just where I need to be. I hope that the week went up for you from here on out!

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