Constantly in Motion, The Force Is.

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Yoda, you have never spoken truer words. This should be on bumper stickers across the nation.

As wise as my very own father

Officially ranking this day as one of the strangest in terms of mood.

Considering what I went through yesterday, I woke up this morning feeling even crummier. I went to bed after watching 5 episodes of The Office around 1:00 am, in the middle of the night one of my posters fell on me, my alarm went off an hour earlier than I remember setting it for, my ex decided to text me at 4 in the morning, my body has been fooled into thinking I’m back on my period due to yesterday’s procedures…not a restful night of sleep. One good thing? I was snuggling up to Berry (the teddy bear New Guy gave me for Christmas) and I smelled his cologne on him. I thought it has all gone from Berry’s soft fuzziness, but last night, it was there. I pushed my nose into that spot, and I eventually fell asleep.

Best cuddle big there is.

Such a strange night. I’m surprised I’m even talking in a cohesive manner at all today. It does help that I don’t have to be at the Academy every morning at godforsaken hours.

Having a modern dance class is going to be good for me this semester. I can already tell. Not that I didn’t enjoy Modern I. Oh, I did. Any dance class where flailing your arms around in a random fashion and its considered art is an A+ in my book. This class, however, is going to reawaken my body to what it once was. Combine that with tennis class 2 times a week….I’m going to be rocking this body like in the good ol’ days. Before biopsies and pain killers and fear of what could be.

The Jedi say to let the moment happen. Feel what is happening, and then move on. I feel like I did that really well yesterday. Granted, I let myself cry really hard when I was behind the wheel of my car. Not such a smart idea. Regardless, the sadness hit me, I let it do its thing, and then I moved on. If grabbing a hot fudge sundae, a medium fries, and McDouble from McDonald’s is called moving on, then yes, I did it quite effectively.

Waking up to a text from my ex-boyfriend was quite strange. He rarely texted me when we were together, even after I’d ask him a question that I needed an answer to, he refused to text me back. He’d text others…just not me. Okay? Weird boyfriend behavior that I did call him out on, but to no avail. Not the point. The point is, he asked me what taking the biopsies meant for me, if it was a good or bad thing. He even went so far as to look into what was going on with me on the Web, going off the symptoms and what the doctors have told me about my condition. His answer? Things aren’t looking good for you.

Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Gee, really? When they told me the next part to all of this will probably be having the wall of my cervix scraped off and a section of its top lining being cut off, when did you think it was going well?

He always was a little more dense than your average 26-year-old. Another reason why I pursue and appreciate older men? There’s a good chance.

I’m coming to deal with it now, 24 hours later, what this could all mean for me. There are still a lot of variables out in the open, but still, none of them are golden options. I would rather not have any of them. However, that’s not my choice. I still have to tell my mom and older sisters. They are not going to react well to the news at all. The sister I live with cried once we got into the car after my appointment. That got me going. We were a couple of sobbers sitting in my car.

Not all tears are shed in vain.

It was a great moment, actually. I felt the bonds of sisterhood in those tear-filled moments. I know my family will be behind me, whatever is going on with me, but it’s not to physically see and hear the support, too. Especially when staring the faceless monster down from a distance.

One, sweet. Two, getting there. Three, clothes are optional?

What I can’t stand though? Hearing people apologize for my benefit. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” “I’m sorry.” “Sorry about that.” Yes, I appreciate your words, but it’s not your fault! It’s no one’s fault. Well….it could be mine and my ex-boyfriends fault. Even though I went on birth control 2 months after we started doing the deed, he repeatedly refused to wear condoms. Could that be coming back to bite me in the ass? I insisted he do it, but without fail, he always managed to sweet talk me too far into the moment, and the concern would be lost in the waves of pleasure I felt. It’s a juvenile reason. I know it. I should have been firmer. Even after I told him about the first abnormal test results, he refused to go get tested himself, in case he was carrying something he passed on to me.

Another reason I appreciate New Guy. He never balks when I tell him to put a condom on. Never questions me. Just agrees with me that we don’t need a little me or him running around 9 months from now.

“Brains are a handicap for a blond.”

Handicap? She used it to her advantage.

Those are the words of the platinum TV presenter, Paula Yates.

Just like having ovaries is a handicap for a woman. Yes, it’s the 21st century, but I encounter sexism every day of my life. It’s a great thing I don’t back down when I am the victim of injustice. One day, I’m going to be the female head honcho of a male-dominate field. Be it manager, president, or CEO…when those suckers are being little idiots, they are going to hear about it. Respect your fellow woman…you were brought into this world by a woman. You want to leave this life at the hand of one, too?

I suppose one could say the penis is the handicap for the male species, as well. Two sides to every story. Two sides to every coin…unless you’re Two-Face. Then, you make your own luck.

Heads, you live. Tails, you die.

I have let out a lot of personal information tonight. A LOT of personal info.If you have made it this far, and are still daring to go on, thank you and congratulations. I promise future posts are not going to be this downtrodden in spirit.

Life can really change in the matter of a second. I went into that hospital room, thinking I was going to get a green light and the advisement to come back in 6 months. Instead, I was told strip down, put your legs in the stirrups, and this might sting a little bit. (It was put much more delicately than that, but that’s what I recall.) My life is in the hands of the Force now. I’m still very scared, but being scared isn’t going to stop whatever is going on. Being scared isn’t going to help me any more at this point than it did 2 weeks ago.

Whenever I hurt now, I instantly link it to what’s going on with my body. It has to be connected somehow! Yet, I have to remind myself it might be my mind playing tricks on me. Making a hurricane out of a simple ripple.

Grandmother Willow knows a thing or two about them.

But to say it’s not at the forefront of my mind every day, especially now? A total lie. I think about it dozens of times an hour. At least. If I had a handicap, that would be it. I over think every thing. But how can I not? My life could make a drastic change in the matter of a week. Again, I don’t have the power of foresight. I don’t know what the telephone call I’m awaiting will say. Because this is on my mind more often than not, I’m not acting like me. Not as smiley, not laughing as hard or as loud as I normally do. I’m more drawn back, I let things happen around me instead of getting involved. Verbal fights are not something I want to start (which is a personal favorite of mine!)

The mind is always racing...

I’m tired. Just plain tired.

Yesterday was emotionally taxing on me. I wasn’t able to eat prior to the appointment. I forced myself to eat afterwards. I made the effort to make fruit parfaits, and when I sat down to eat it, it tasted like sawdust in my mouth.

Everyone has noticed I’m not “me” and they know  I was headed into my appointment this week. Most are afraid to bring it up. The ones who do, though, offer great words of encouragement. Can’t say I’m fully listen to them. My mind is elsewhere.

Want to hear something morbid? A couple of years ago, I reached the conclusion that I already know what songs I want played at my viewing/funeral. Another handicap? Possibly. One such song that’s definetly happening when I pass onto the next world and become one with the Force? From none other than the Lord of the Rings: Into the West

Best thing about it? I’m totally a brunette. We all have our flaws.

Jedi Master Bariss has a special touch.

Whatever the outcome, this Jedi is not going down without a fight. Even if I have to track down the sole Jedi Healer in the galaxy or become one myself. I’m a fighter. Always have been.

I don’t see that changing any time soon.


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