Amputation

So, its been a while. And I apologize. I don't know how many times one of the kiddos has done something insanely adorable and I've thought. . "I need to blog that". . .and then haven't. So to all 3 people who read this regularly - I'm sorry. But the truth is - I've been fighting the urge to tell you all everything that is going on. But no more, - you get the good and the bad from now on. Consider yourself warned.

I imagine its like watching a small appendage turn black with gangrene and begin to die. Knowing that it will have to be amputated, yet denying it at the same moment. Giving yourself up to insane hope that something, somehow will change and it will be saved. Then ignoring the truth as it meets you at the corners of your life. Head down, pushing against a relentless wind, trying to pretend that its just a bad day, or your general pessimistic nature.

And then the decision to amputate is reached. . .the denial is broken, the truth is overwhelming and crushing and the thought of the knife slicing through the skin and severing you from that disease is both nauseating and thrilling. Once you've honestly entertained the thought, it refuses to leave. You find yourself focusing on it as you try to sleep, and the thoughts keeping you awake. When sleep finally comes, the first thing that pushes through the morning fog in the morning is the same thought - coming at you before you've found your bearings and immediately sending you once again into the tailspin.

Even as you set your mind to do this, you find yourself contemplating the future without this appendage. How will it feel? How will you function? Someone calls and asks about your appendage and you immediately, instinctively lie to keep this quiet. You think of ways each morning that you should use your appendage and then remember that it is gone. And every emotion washes over you again like an ocean storm that refuses to let you breathe. You cry when you see people with their healthy appendages, when you meet people who don't know about your loss, when you have to tell people about the loss. Every time you tell someone new, its like peeling off the scab and digging in the wound with a blunt object and the pain, white hot and unrelenting comes at you again.

I'll let you know when the phantom feelings go away, when the pain has eased, the raw wound healed.