I only cried twice

Today I was cancer free. I woke up and had no tests to rush to, none of my veins were poked, I wasn't weighed or measured, I wasn't given the half head-tilt "oh poor girl" look from medical personnel, and I only cried twice. Today I was me again, the me that looks in the mirror and smiles, that doesn't worry about cancer spreading, that can have a normal conversation with her husband that doesn't involve the words chemo, cancer, breasts or fear. It felt damn good.

Days like today are a few and far between lately--I think that is just the way it goes. I can't control the wayward emotions that come with a diagnosis, or the flood of tears that come out of nowhere. I just get up, ride the roller coaster and do the best I can to keep my eyes open while the ride is in progress, then go to sleep to start it all over again. I am not expecting immediate acclimation to this new life of mine, like anything, it will come in stages.

Today I was reminded what it was like to not "be" a diagnosis. Thanks to baseball and a manicure and pedicure with good friends I felt free. Small things, even like the sunburn I got today, have such a dramatic impact on me now. My emotions are close to the surface and I am doing my best to rein them in--I just keep questioning if I will be able to do things in the future, starting thoughts when "I wonder when the next time will be that I..."

I am taking this weekend to process everything that has happened. I felt I haven't been able to be alone with my thoughts since all of this started. I am a processor--not like for food, but for thought. It really takes me awhile to get into the depth of things, then slowly I drudge my way through my thoughts until it all sits comfortably. So that is my weekend. I will be alone with my thoughts, nap on the couch, and enjoy the air conditioner my gracious husband put in the window.