A Moment in Time Written and Experienced by Allison W. Gryphon for Providence Health Services
From the moment I came to, after receiving the diagnosis, my world started moving at 150mph 24/7. I met the breast surgical oncologist. I met the reconstructive surgeon. I went for a PET CT scan, a breast MRI, a pre-op orientation, a DNA test, and a post-op camisole fitting. I told people. I made lists and arrangements and wrote newsletters and emails so everyone who I had told could keep up on what was going on. I bought bathrobes and journals and soft oversized shirts: Things that would make me happy and things that would make me comfortable. Every day I was talking until my voice was hoarse and driving from here to there to get everything done… and then there was the mastectomy and lymph node dissection, and recovery, and visits. There was learning how to sleep without rolling over on my drain. Figuring out how to get out of bed without engaging my chest muscles. Working toward being able to open the refrigerator door all by myself. Researching anything and everything I could to heal my body and make it stronger than ever before. I had always thought of myself as a go-go-go type of girl, but the kind of “busy” cancer brought into my life was something I never could have imagined. And the busy of it all, in many ways, is what saved me.
For me, Cancer was a full time job added to my actual full time job and overbooked life. I think that’s why my first day of chemo hit me like a freight train. There is no hurry in chemo. There is no anesthesia. No hustle and bustle of people moving to get you from here to there. Nothing to organize. Nothing to do. There is an attentive staff preparing for your marathon. There is stillness. There is waiting. And there is a profound state of quiet.
Click Here to read the rest of the story at the Providence Cancer Survivorship Blog.