In Repair

A few weeks ago, I had a bit of a scare. I thought Cancer had returned, I was stage IV and life was taking another proverbial right hand turn. Before I elaborate, I need to take a little sidetrip. I've got so much psychology swirling around in my head right now, it's making my head spin. Freud would have a field day. Freud would inevitably be wrong though. It's not my mother who handed down all this angst. It was Dad. My most recent struggle with my self worth stems from more than a handful of Daddy issues and a couple of innocent bystanders who happened to be in the right place at the right time at a particular "sensitive period" during my adolescence. It could have gone badly. I could be in Shanghai, China, doped out on who knows what, participating in a human trafficking nightmare. Instead, I'm safe in my bed in a house I built from the ground up with a man who treats me like the princess wretched Disney designed me to be. I am blessed with two gorgeous daughters who came out of nowhere. No really. Nowhere.  Whaaa?
Ever look back at your life and wonder how in heck you got HERE? I'm still bitter at the machine for building the princess construct that for a short time led me to believe that happiness was a man on a white horse whose kiss would make my existence worthwhile. Ugh. I tried this on for size once upon a time and the shoe did not fit. Instead I had to choose between owning my life and a clueless prince who bought the same song and dance that I did. I chose to own my life and live a crazy path not found in storybooks until Disney finally figured out that strong female leads build strong female citizens. We still can't manage to shake the cute, dumb, male counterpart (Hans? Kristoff? Pet Reindeer? Really?), but at least the conflict is now between siblings. I'd much rather my daughters identify with Elsa and her sister Anna than Jasmine <sigh>.  Sound bites such as "The cold never bothered me anyway" exemplify a chick on her own path.
Fortunately, I've adopted a handful of brothers along the way who have hand-picked the wreckage out of the burning ashes that Dad threw me into. Somehow the right adopted sibling bubbled up at just the right moment. I'm still trying to rationalize this past summer's journey through a series of emotional ups and downs. Just as time heals all wounds, time and space provide perspective. Since my last checkup, a lot of personal stuff has gone down ending with an unbelievable trip to Southern Utah to connect with one of my brothers and his very amazing family. It was just what the doctor ordered. It allowed me to forget that I have a 5cm mass on my ovary and a bunch of cysts in my liver. Previous testing shows none of this to be cancerous, so the right hand turn previously mentioned was not a right hand turn at all but rather a speed bump. Instead, I chose to take a psychological right hand turn and in the process opened myself up to some pretty awesome events. I made some new friends. I said goodbye to some old ones and flushed them from the current. Conveniently, it only took me a few weeks, and I am prepared for tomorrow.
Tomorrow, I go back to the doctor to get the final word on what's going on in my abdomen. Whatever the news, I feel surrounded by the love of my family and friends and have weeded out the drama and angst gifted to me by Dad and Disney. I am ready for this next chapter. Having spent an amazing summer galavanting around the countryside and connecting with friends new and old, I am empowered by faith and friendship. To see my girls interact and coexist with new members of our tribe is a remarkable experience. Whatever tomorrow's news brings, I'm in the best possible mindset to receive it.