Scared and confused I walked home. I called my mother and boyfriend to fill them in. They were my two go to’s. They both assured me I would be fine and not to get too worked up about it but maybe they were secretly freaking out because well, how could they not be? I texted my two best friends and got the same encouraging speeches. Something just did not feel right though.. Was this why I have been feeling so off? Was my body trying to tell me something? They find these things all the time right? Or am I the exception, the one that actually does have something terribly wrong with her. I started to feel sorry for myself and let my hypochondriac mind roam. STOP IT JANINE! STOP IT JANINE! You are not sick, you are not dying. I told myself that over and over again mixed with wait but maybe you are. I kept aggressively rubbing this lump that she ever so casually found. I thought to myself, you idiot, you didn’t even catch this one yourself. But I did all the correct self breast exams right? How could I miss this. Now that I think of it, I felt this before. I definitely felt this but why didn’t I say something, why didn’t I call my doctor? I am gonna throw up.. I had completely exhausted myself.
I went back to finishing up some work and tried to distract my mind. I work from home so it wasn’t abnormal for me to be working into the evening. I love my job and it never really feels like work. Working for a women’s empowerment company, what could be more rewarding. I get to train new merchandisers and coach them to success. I get to change lives. I always knew I wanted to change lives. Oh here it comes again, anxiety.. go away, go away. Is it time for a glass of wine?
That night my boyfriend came home and had just the cure for what my worried (slightly intoxicated) mind needed. A fire, smores, and The Office. Perfect! He always knew how to cheer me up. We had been together for almost 5 years, lived together for 4 and basically were attached at the hip. We had been through a lot, we had a special bond, we were best friends, we leaned on each other, and he always made things seem less scary.
I went to bed that night feeling so lost. What if this was the time that something horrible happens to me? What if I am sick? I didn’t really feel sick, wouldn’t I feel sick? Wouldn’t they have seen this in my bloodwork from that month? Is that a thing? I always see young people, young girls battling cancer and I feel so sick to my stomach for them. How are they smiling right now? How are they living through their day? What does that feel like? I can never wrap my head around why them? Why do they have to suffer? I always feel so sorry for them, then count my blessings that I am healthy. But now what if I am going to be the one that people feel sorry for because I am dying? Am I dying? STOP IT JANINE! GO TO BED!