August 21, 2011

'Cause she knows that it's demanding to defeat those evil machines. I know she can beat them.

It's almost 11 o'clock. At noon, I have to stop eating solid foods. I should be eating, since I won't be able to for about 24 hours, but I've been staring at this bagel for almost 3 hours.

I'm too nervous to eat. Story of my life as of late, apparently.

In a little over one hour, I will begin my fast. In a little over three, I will start drinking lots of liquids. I have to prepare for my test tomorrow. The test I only found out about on Thursday. That I've had less than a week to wrap my mind around.

I suppose that's good. Get in, get it done, don't have to worry about it anymore. I've been joking about it since I found out.

"Between all the sweating and this test, I bet I'll lose ten pounds this week!"

I know I'm not alone in this, but I joke when I'm scared, I laugh when I'm nervous, when I'm uncomfortable. Then I turn into an obnoxious child.

"Look at me! Pay attention to me! Look what I can do!"

Baby me, comfort me, protect me.

I'm scared. For multiple reasons.

I've never "gone under". I haven't been under the influence of anything in almost four years, what if I hate it? What if I like it? What if the medicine makes me sick?

Those questions on their own make me cry.

But there's more. I'm scared that I'm not feeling as good as I was after I stopped eating gluten. I'm feeling better than when I was eating it, but I'm not feeling as good as immediately after. The instant effects have worn off, and I'm not feeling as great.

But mostly I'm scared that the doctor ordered this without knowing my family history. I didn't tell her that my grandmother died from colon cancer. I didn't tell her that when my mom had the same test six months ago, they removed a tumor.

"It would be really rare for you to have colon cancer at 23, but not impossible."

She came up with that all on her own.

I was talking with a friend last night and of course, the conversation turned to faith.

I have no problem with that turn. I am trying to strengthen my faith and I know, deep down in my soul, with every fiber of my being, that faith is following his plan and turning to him, no matter the circumstance.

But, I'm realizing, part of having faith is allowing myself to be scared. Because if I'm not scared, I don't feel like I can fully rely on him. If I felt fine, like nothing could go wrong, that I was invincible, I would have no need for God.

I always say that the worst part of having faith is knowing that one day, I won't feel like this. One day, this will be better, this situation will be resolved. But I can't fast forward through this, I have to feel it and experience it. I can't speed up my life to the part where I feel better, even though I know, I have faith, that day will come.


d'Artagnan said...

Sounds frightening. Hang in there. You are in my thoughts.



Vapid Vixen said...

Well crap. Please keep us all posted. I hope everything goes well and in the meantime I'll be sending happy thoughts your way.

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