She likes control of the world around her. I think that's one of the reasons she works from home, editing the writings of others. She's organized and competent and she pays attention to everything in her sphere. She researches facts and uses them to comfort herself and others. She's cognizant of the needs of those around her, and puts herself out to accommodate them, often to her own distress.
A person like this shouldn't be facing medical catastrophe.
There's no place to hide. The disease has taken root and must be vanquished. That includes radiation implanted over the offending tumor, shots on a regular basis after the radiation is finished dissolving the mass, genetic testing to determine the likelihood of metastases, on-going, quarterly doctor visits hundreds of miles from home, x-rays and MRI's and pills.
Did I mention that the disease has taken root in her eye?
Did I mention that the shots go in the eye?
Now that you're back with us, after taking a moment or six to get over the awfulness, let me reassure you that the blast email she sent to friends and family was upbeat, positive, and filled with words like This will completely eradicate the whole damn thing!
I admire those who think to take care of the world around them when their own personal space is collapsing in a heap. I don't know where she finds the strength to consider those of us on the outside, worrying but distanced from the immediacy. There were more words of thanks and comfort than there were descriptions of procedures. She was there for us, thanking us for being there for her.
And so, I wait. I sit thousands of miles away, worrying. I can't do anything else. I send cards - the smarmiest ones I can find, because I know they will make her groan - and I send healing vibes, and I even talk to the gods and goddesses and spirits, asking for their love and support.
I'm trying to fix it all myself, just as she came here to fix me when I was broken. I know it's a useless exercise, but it calms my heart. She has a loving husband and devoted children. I really shouldn't worry.
But, I do. Worrying keeps the evil at bay; I've believed that since I was a child and I don't see any reason to stop believing it today. If I am anxious, if I examine all the edges of the problem, if I keep it close to the front of my brain as I go through the day, then, somehow, I don't know why. exactly, everything will turn out okay.
So that's my job until the plaque implantation tomorrow - to worry. Non-stop. Fearlessly facing any awful truth I can conjure. Sending you'll be fine thoughts along to her as I keep the OMG's to myself.
If I keep myself awake with anxiety, perhaps I can absorb some of what is occupying MTF right now. My friend shouldn't suffer alone. Offering my services as Official Worry Wart is all that I can do for now.