I read a post from someone who visited my blog earlier today and it reminded me of what I went through this time last year. I was in another downward spiral because my reluctant surgeon couldn’t seem to move far enough forward in her thinking to get me into surgery. For almost a year, in one appointment after another, she sent me staggering emotionally from hope to despair about what my life might look like based on one worst-case scenario after another. She eroded any confidence I might have held in her. Thankfully, even through the fog of all my pain medications and my endless pain, I was able to feel and recognize that I deserved better than what she was offering.
The few visits I had with my second opinion surgeon, led to swift action and although I wasn’t cured of my pain, at least the thing that was growing inside my pelvis that started all of this is gone. Without the confidence and compassion of my second opinion surgeon, my fears and anxiety would have grown exponentially. Instead of making calm, informed decisions, the way he did, and now the rest of my current medical team help me to; everything would have continued to be reactionary based on my desire to stop feeling pain without understanding the suspected source and mapping out the best treatment plan for me.
I hope Snowdroplets finds the same compassion, expertise, and thoughtfulness I did as she seeks out her second opinions and makes her choices. I also hope that mirroring her words back to her will help to keep her positive and confident that seeking out doctors that make you feel comfortable and secure is the best medicine.
As I traveled to a recent appointment, I saw a woman I can only describe as the doppelgänger of someone who was once a close friend of mine. The striking resemblance to my former friend startled me so much I almost spoke to her, but instead I just stared, which made her and then me obviously uncomfortable. The one thing that made it clear the woman standing in front of me wasn’t the person I had once known was that she was heavily pregnant, which is a stage of life my former friend has long passed. However, the style of her hair and the shape of her features could have made them twins.
The interesting thing is that the friendship I had with this former friend grew tremendously during her pregnancy with her second child. Before that, we did the usual things adult friends do while keeping each other at a comfortable distance: we hung out some weekends, went to the movies, and went shopping together, but during her pregnancy, she changed; she became more open and caring. I enjoyed this less critical and nonjudgmental aspect of her personality. I naïvely thought that this sensitive, empathetic side of her would become a permanent fixture and we would be friends until we reached old age. Unfortunately, after the birth of her child – and what I have to assume was the re-balancing of her hormones – she reverted to the person I’d known before, and being around her for more than a few hours at a time became difficult to bear.
I’ll never understand why some people believe it is okay to treat other people like crap and still keep the privilege of participating in their lives. Why anyone believes that as long as you apologize after making cutting remarks or insults all will be well again, until the next time they do the same, is beyond me. This woman’s behaviour towards other people was so harsh at times that witnessing it made me wince. We eventually went our separate ways because of a series of things she did to others and me where, even after having the negative and hurtful effects pointed out, she made light of the situations and felt we should act as if they hadn’t happened and move forward. As expected, that lack of acknowledgement and trivialization caused more hurt. For a long while after we cut ties, I missed spending time with her and being “auntie” to her children, but our values and beliefs about how to treat people were so different I couldn’t see a way back to fully trusting her and being open about my life. I believe that had I continued in our friendship that it would just have been a matter of time before more incidents arose and ended things.
A lot of time has passed and although I know her children are nearly grown and may not even remember me, I do think of them often; and after seeing this former friend’s doppelgänger, I felt the urge to reach out to see how she and her family are doing. Then I remembered her condescension at my past efforts to mend our relationship, and that I’ve run into her over the years since we stopped spending time together and how things always felt awkward and forced. I no longer feel comfortable sharing any of what is happening in my life with her because I don’t want to be subjected to her judgement or hear her disapproving tone. I think I made the right decision not to pick up the phone, but deep down I’ve been questioning how one short conversation could hurt…
I didn’t sleep much, or peacefully, the many times I dozed off last night because yesterday was a bit of a strained day for me and I couldn’t shake off the residual feelings of the day. First off, I had to be up early for an appointment with one of my specialists. That meant I had a lot of anxiety the night before, and while getting ready in the morning, because getting anywhere on time these days is difficult for me. If I have to wake up early for an appointment, I don’t get a good night’s sleep because I feel anxious about the possibility that I might oversleep and miss it altogether. Then getting showered and dressed, even though I checked the weather report and had an outfit picked out, is a major production that always takes longer than any amount of lead-time I give myself to get out the door allows. I keep hoping that I’ll finally figure out the right ratio of time I need depending on the level of pain I’m feeling on a given day, but for now I’ll have to live with the crapshoot that I might get to where I’m going on time.
However, my early morning appointment wasn’t the only thing that made it such a difficult day for me. Yesterday was the birthday of my great-aunt M. She passed away about 15 years ago after a long battle with cancer. She was a sweet, caring woman. Everyone who knew her loved and respected her. Even though she was my grandmother’s sister, my great-aunt M and I had a closer relationship. She was one of the few people in my life whose love and affections I never had to question, and I miss her terribly.
Throughout my life, Auntie M was a positive presence who always did things to make me feel special. Because she lived overseas, I didn’t see her often but I did have opportunities to spend time with her during long visits over summer vacations and other holidays and she always worked to sustain a significant presence in my life. When I was a child, she would send me packages with a mixture of toys, clothes, and sweet treats. I loved opening those gifts and seeing the pretty things she had taken her time to pick out just for me. As I grew older, Auntie M wrote me letters and sent me cards that always arrived on time for my birthday and holidays, and there were her phone calls just to say hello.
As much as I miss my Auntie M, I know I should be relieved that she’s not suffering anymore from such a long, terrible illness. Because it wasn’t possible to celebrate her birthday with her yesterday or chat with her to hear her reassure me that everything will be fine the way she used to; I spent my sleepless time doing things to distract myself from my currently hard to cope with life and sadness. I like the way this piece turned out and I’d like to think it turned out so well because Auntie M was helping me to steady my pen like she used to support me when she was alive.
My Small Surrenders 