the thing with feathers

I had my CD3 blood work done today.*

Next Friday I will go in for the SIS.

It feels a little illicit even to let myself think about what will be next.  Like I said here, New RE is convinced I have submucous fibroids, which are causing both my infertility and what I thought were endo symptoms.  But this was a direct contradiction of what I was told by Original RE.  On the one hand this is a great diagnosis (something definite, that can be treated), but on the other hand it’s a little hard for me to believe that the answer could be before us.  Probably I will have surgery, and then…

It’s hard to be hopeful.  Emily Dickinson wrote

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune–without the words,

And never stops at all.

A lot of years later, Tori Amos** sang

Will you never learn?

You’re just an empty cage, girl

If you kill the bird

Have five months of depression emptied the cage?  It is so hard for me to just let go and hope.  I have been in a very dark place, but protecting myself with skepticism and caution feels like refusing to climb out of a hole.  Staying at the bottom would keep me from falling any farther, but it would also keep me from ever, ever getting out.  I would be numbed out, trapped by my own caution, never letting myself be disappointed but also never getting out from under this suffocating fog.

So, however hard it is, however risky, I’m going to run towards the hope.  As fast as I can.

It feels so good to be doing something (even if all I did today was have blood drawn).  I think I am going to take a page out of egghunt’s book and make a chart.  Today?  Blood work.  Next week?  SIS.  And after that?  I may just be unstoppable.  MWAHAHAHA!

*For those of you keeping score at home, yes, that’s a 31-day cycle.  Thanks, Self, for keeping me in limbo for so long!  I started spotting after this post, so I knew it was coming, but I didn’t get to CD1 for 2 more days.  Luckily it didn’t take any longer or I would have had to wait another month for the blood work because of the holiday weekend!

**Emily Dickinson and Tori Amos had equally profound effects on my fifteen-year-old soul.  I discovered them both after J.D. Salinger but before Umberto Eco.

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7 responses to “the thing with feathers

  1. Is it sad that I see 31 day cycle and still think that looks good? Of course, I’m still getting used to having normal-length cycles, so my perception is still a little skewed :).
    I like the idea of having a chart, or a list, and just checking things off as they get completed. Celebrate each accomplishment!

  2. It is time to crawl out of that trench you know…there is a lot of fighting left to do…but you atleast know who you are shooting at!

  3. Beautiful post.
    Come on up, the view can be inspiring, besides we are here to help!

  4. I think we HAVE to cling to hope. It’s all we have sometimes so we are allowed to believe in it. We wouldnt be here putting ourselves through this if hope wasn’t singing her song in our ear.
    That being said its so natural to self protect at the same time and feel we have to prepare ourselves for the worst as thats what we are accustomed to recieving.
    It’s a difficult balance but we just have to do the best we can at managing it. Not always easy, I know this for sure.
    I’m honoured you’re thinking of emulating my chart. It seems like such a school girl thing to do but it really helped me! Just keep focusing on the one step in front of you and remind yourself that hope is REAL. xxx

  5. Seriously, hope is so hard to wrangle. I mean, I should be maximally hopeful right now, shouldn’t I? But all I am hell-bent on preventing myself from going there, for fear of what the disappointment will do to me. I guess we just have to do what feels right, and I’m pelased to think of you pelting towards happiness!

  6. I hate trying to hope or not hope in this process. It’s really hard. Great post.

    I hope the SIS goes well.

  7. I love this post!!!! I am SOOO an empty cage!!! Too bad I hadn’t found Tori Amos at 15, or ever, really… maybe I’ll have to look her up now.

    Well at least the empty cage doesn’t suffer like the caged bird (do we need to involve Maya Angelou, too? I never read that book , actually…)!

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