This is the first in what I hope will be a series of guest blogs. (If any of you want to do one, let me know!) I think this is a great one to start with too. My bestest buddy, Skye, puts it all out there. That’s why I love her. 
Leave her some comment love!
Hi Sonja’s people. I’m Skye. Randomly I told Sonja one day that she should have “Guest Bloggers” who would write her blog for her (I’m pretty sure this timed coincidentally with her not updating her blog often enough to satisfy me) and she nominated me to guest blog. So here I am. And it’s not like I don’t have my own blog to write on… but I’d rather write here.
It took me a while to get around to it… I mean, such a prestigious thing, a guest blog. My comments should be insightful and witty and intelligent. But I doubt that’s going to happen no matter how much thought I put into it, so here goes nothing. My topic is Life Changing Events.
I had a Life Changing Event recently. I woke up one morning to some abdominal pain and, fearing appendicitis, I went to the doctor. To cut a lot out of the story (trust me, I’m sparing you), I found out I had a tumor on one of my ovaries. Gasp, I can hear you thinking. How awful for someone so young. (oh, did I forget to mention I’m 24?) Yeah, it sucked. And at the time, it was a crisis of huge proportions. It might be cancer. I might die. The odds were against it, but the insidious thought was always there. It MIGHT be cancer. What would I do if it was? How much would my life change? How would I cope?
Not only that, but the first doctor I went to warned me that if, during surgery, they found the tumor to be malignant, they would have to do a complete hysterectomy. So there I was, reeling from the shock of learning I had a tumor, to being forced to face the fact that I might never have children. Not that I necessarily want children… it’s still up in the air. But I’d have to think about it, make my decisions, come to terms with it.
I mean, I’d had a boyfriend for a month and a half. How the hell do you spring something like that on him? “Honey, I know we haven’t been together that long, but do you see us getting married and maybe having kids? Well, how would you feel about it all if our potential future offspring had to be adopted?” Right. Like that would go over well. But it wasn’t him I had to worry about. It was me. It was my problem to deal with. I thought about it… I guess I’d always ASSUMED I’d have kids. There had been times when I didn’t want any and times when I did, but in the back of my mind, I think I always figured I would. But it’s tough to face the possibility that whether or not you want it, it may not happen.
Despite all the deep thoughts I was having, I routinely got complimented on how strong I was. I went to the doctor’s appointments alone, and didn’t cry. (well, alright, I cried once, but no one else was around to see it and it only lasted for about 30 seconds while I was driving, so I’m not sure it counts). I cracked jokes about how I was going to make people do everything for me, since after all, I had a tumor, and basically kept an even keel. But the truth is, I didn’t feel like I was being brave. What else could I do? Whining and wailing and moaning about my lot in life would get me nowhere. So I kept cheerful. I stayed positive. And I think I made a lot of people feel a lot better about the whole thing because of my positive attitude. If it was cancer, I would have dealt with that in the same way (I like to think).
At any rate, the point was moot. After being sent into surgery only 3 weeks or so after waking up with some pain, the news came back that the tumor was merely a benign cyst… and even though softball sized, harmless. And so here I am, 6 weeks or so after surgery, feeling fine. I’m mostly healed, feel great, and ready to get back to normal life.
The thing that worries me now is that my life hasn’t changed. I mean, I had a significant Life Changing Event, capitals and all and I don’t feel any different. Sure, I have a fantastic smiley face scar on my belly and I get tired a lot easier. But I faced my inner demons, thought through some tough problems. I even set up my will and told my parents that if it came down to it, I wanted to be cremated. But damn it all, looking back, I see the pain and worry I went through, but I DON’T FEEL ANY DIFFERENT. Is that horrible of me?
Shouldn’t I have awoken from surgery, revitalized at the good news that it was benign and thought “I faced death and now I will live my life as a better person?” Or maybe the classic “I’ll live each day to the fullest, since now I know how short life can be”? Or, even better, “Why worry about trivial things in day to day life, since there are such bigger issues out there?”
But no. I don’t think I’ve changed a bit. I never even came to a clear conclusion of whether or not I wanted kids. Does that make me a bad person? I went through a Life Changing Event and escaped unchanged? I know my parents changed. I know my brother and friends and boyfriend all changed. But did I? Do Life Changing Events really work the way they appear on TV and I just missed the memo? Or I am not the only one who’s faced a challenge and not come out any different.
Or maybe I am changed. Maybe I just haven’t noticed. But I certainly feel like the same old Skye. Still sarcastic, still tall. My hair might have gotten a little curlier while I was in the hospital, but who knows. Maybe it’s a delayed reaction. A year from now I’ll wake up with a whole new lease on life.
I guess it just makes you think. What really constitutes a Life Changing Event? If facing the fear of cancer and the possibility of losing the ability to have children isn’t enough to change your perspective, what is? And maybe that’s how my life has changed. If I can stay emotionally okay during such a dramatic event, haven’t I realized something about myself? Isn’t this a change in perspective after all?
Maybe, just maybe, I’m going to be okay no matter what happens. And that’s good news.
Skye
Sorry dude. Cringe is a physical word.
