Nonsense

I have the pleasure of possessing an active imagination. After spending weeks in a single room can your imagination be asked to remain still and quiet? Mine will certainly not. I keep rolling over and over in my mind the past weeks events and how they came to be. After spending time on the phone talking with many friends and loved ones, I've decided to document my feelings and multiple responses to this life changing news. One question that seems to be reoccurring is what did you first think when the doctors said it was leukemia? To be honest I don't know. I received the diagnosis on Friday, but it was really on Thursday that I think I knew. When they said that they would have to test for leukemia I just sort of knew that is what it was. I wasn't scared, confused, or even angry. I was very okay with it. Looking back that is how I would have wanted it to go. What can you do really? Say no thanks I'll take something else. I had a problem set before me and instead of shirking it off, I accepted. My life has always been full of some kind of drama or another. It would be a shame now, if just because I'm confined to four walls, should that change. With lunacy running high in my family I easily became the cherry on the top. I never wished for some trauma to run my life a muck, but I would be lying not to say that traumatic experiences highlight the lives of those who I admire and call great. I am, for lack of a better expression, excited about the changes this disease will and had brought into my life. For one thing, I have lost weight. I know that is shallow and pathetic, but it makes me smile. For anyone who truly knows me, they know that my self image is less than sterling. Over the past week I've lost a total of 8lbs and 6 oz. (A baby) Also, in the area of losing things, my hair has decided that a vacation is long overdue. I was combing it out and when I say out. I mean ....out. I huge chunk fell to the sink. I cried. But then, all of a sudden I was okay with it. It all became so clear. Then medicine wasn't just pills anymore. The chemo wasn't just fluid anymore. The pain wasn't just temporary anymore. The climax had come and it was real. It was at that moment that I was angry. That moment when confusion had decided to fall. It was at that moment that I was scared that I couldn't do this. I got into the shower and cried. All I wanted at that moment was someone to hold me. Someone to tell me that I was going to be okay. No one was here. My family was in Macon, Birmingham, and Jackson. My friends were taking care of their responsibilities and I was alone. I felt sorry for myself. I was alone and by what I could tell, no one really cared. As I got out of the shower, still crying, it hit me. I am not alone. How could I have ever forgotten? How could I have not known to run into God's hands? After spewing off rhetoric about knowing God has a plan for all this, how could I be so blind? Just like in a movie, I crawled into my bed, wet hair and all, pulled the covers tight up to my chin, and I cried into God's arms. No day is like the one before it even though the same things happen everyday.