fast weight loss after pregnancy diet
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| This is my creation for a blog I contribute to called Catholic Sistas for Respect Life/Breast Cancer awareness month |
For some reason this surgery is causing me more stress than ANY of my others (that I remember). I think at least a portion of the stress is caused by vanity. I have nightmares of waking up with gaping holes in my chest while the doctors just shake their heads and say, "It looks fine." Really though, I know that is the least of my concerns. I know this surgery is fundamentally more risky than my previous surgeries. Even the bilateral mastectomy was less of a risk simply because its pretty simple to amputate. The difficulty comes in trying to transplant to an area already fraught with inflammation and scar tissue. Part of the difficulty is rooted in the vanity side of the operation -- afterall the entire purpose of this type of surgery is to *look* normal. However, infection of both the donor site (my belly fat) or transplant site (the new foobs) is a significant possibility. Its also possible for the transplant to just not take. Im also paranoid that going this drastic is not going to affect my pain levels significantly. Well, I *KNOW* the surgery is going to immediately cause an increase in pain level. The chancy part is whether my chest, neck, shoulder, & arm pain will decrease, stay the same, or even possibly increase. The true purpose of this (final?!?!) surgery is to relieve my pain, but so far, no one is willing to give me odds on a positive outcome.
Another aspect of this surgery that Ive hinted (ok, ok -- I outright asked/am asking for donations) is the financial considerations. In my previous post, I outlined that I am the *only* income for our household of 4. My husband & I figured it out last night: by the time you subtract the mortgage & my gas money to commute to work, we have approximately $250 per person for the entire month. That has to cover groceries, car insurance, diapers for two large kids (Simons pretty good during the day, but nights are a whole nother story), toiletries, medical needs, incidentals, and the unexpected costs associated with life and having 2 worn out vehicles (88 Ford Turbo Coupe & 95 Jeep Grand Cherokee). Even with coupons & savings cards, our grocery bills typically reach $200 twice a month. Then you have to factor in getting *to* the grocery store when driving aforementioned worn out vehicles. I didnt realize it as much when Simon was younger, but diaper boxes really do contain a whole lot less the larger the child. To be completely honest, things have gotten so bad that Andrew & I are taking steps toward bankruptcy. I wake up every morning for work and feel nothing but dread; not necessarily because I hate my job, but more because I know Im stuck working to *barely* support my family. When I sleep my dreams are populated with the horrors of surgery (including my death) as well as financial ruin (my family being homeless). That makes for a bad attitude, panic attacks, and exhaustion (even though I know perfectly well that my extended family would never let us be homeless or go without necessities).
Going through this surgery requires me to put a LOT of faith in my doctors and our Merciful God. Im not very good at turning the reins over to another. Hence the panic attacks, hot flashes, and overall flipping out Ive been doing lately. Ive always felt like I need to protect others from unpleasantness. I hold my emotions in so someone else can have me as their support and/or so someone else doesnt have to support me. I work really hard to try to reassure everyone that everything will be ok. My cheerful facade is just that -- a facade. Its no more real than the old-timey movie sets in our favorite movies.
Sometimes I can trick myself into believing my facade is my truth. Then something happens to reveal a crack. The crack slowly becomes larger & larger until I feel like I can no longer withstand the whirlwind of emotions coming toward me. Ive been told to "let go and let God." Oh, how I wish it was that easy! I pray to God to lift the burden from me. Ive been told, "Just like the footprints in the sand, God will carry you if youll just let him. He already, is in fact." I turn around to look, but instead of footprints at all, all I see is the whirlwind obliterating all the progress Ive made. I look at the image of Christ on the cross and I Faithfully know that my burdens and sins were nullified by His Act of Sacrifice. However, I cant help but also see the cross Im carrying and nailed upon. Christs was the Ultimate Sacrifice for me and you. However, when the winds overwhelms me (us?), it is so difficult to see how His Selfless Act could *really* take away my sufferings. Maybe Im looking at it wrong. Afterall, Christ did tell us that we had to pick up our cross and follow Him. Maybe I have picked up my cross, but Im not yet to the path in the road where Jesus takes my "yoke upon His shoulders". Maybe its because Im willfully (even if subconsciously) turning from His path by pridefully creating my own.
Even as I type this, I know that without Christs help Id have already succumb to my lifes troubles. So, even as I question myself and God, I Faithfully *KNOW* that He is watching over me. Im in that odd state of acknowledging Gods help but still requiring so much more. Neither the grief counseling books nor the cancer help books have accurately described this place I feel Im in. I dont doubt God nor do I blame God. I dont ask Him "Why", but I also dont ask Him often enough for help. Im not angry or belligerent. I know that somewhere inside this mess of my life is a message from Him to me and to everyone who has been touched by my life. I just cant see that message to me. I can see the message to others and thats another reason why I have such a cheerful facade. I want everyone to know that it *IS* possible to keep the Faith while going through trials. I want everyone to know that it *IS* possible to carry your child to term and receive treatment for cancer. I want everyone to see the positives of my situation -- not the negatives. However, behind the facade the negatives build.
This, my journal, is a release of these tumultuous emotions I have. Althought Im speaking "to" an audience (you my readers), in reality I am speaking to myself. I am reassuring myself that if I can put my troubles in black & white (well, my draft is black & white) then there *must* be a way to resolve them. Plus, an outpouring of the Holy Spirit from your prayers is ALWAYS a welcome addition to problem solving!
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