Another dream

So, I guess I must still be feeling anxious about ... things, in general.

I've called the doctor asking what's up. They said they would phone "within two weeks" to give me a date for surgery and nothing. And today's exactly two weeks.

The phone rang today, and it was a friend asking how things are going. I jumped and my heart leaped into my throat because I thought it was the doctor. So I'm not sure whether I want to hear from them or not. Emotions are funny things, aren't they? And your gut reaction to something can really tell you a lot.

I've come to realise in the last few months that I am a person who is not well "in touch" with my feelings. Mostly I think this is because of how much I despise people who are, and are always going on about them. Sharing... I remember it from the Hippie Days. Ugh. But as a result of suppressing these Hippie-trained responses, I find I often don't really know how I'm feeling while I'm feeling it.

When I got the news from the Gemelli Oncology dept., I felt quite suddenly as though someone had loosened a steel strap that had been wound tightly around my chest. When I described this to my friend in Vancouver, I said, "I have been feeling sort of 'tight,' like I'm a spring being held forcibly closed. And now I feel like someone has let me go."

My friend said, "Hilary, that feeling of 'tightness' is what the rest of the world calls 'anxiety' and 'stress'."

"Really? I thought all that stuff was just whiney New Age bullshit."

Since then I've had other people confirm for me that feeling "all tight" and then feeling "let loose" is the feeling that normal people call "relief" and "happiness".

Well, the time has slid past and I still don't have a date for surgery and I'm starting to imagine the little tumour growing tendrils into my other important and useful bits. The picture is growing in my mind of me going there all ready to have the problem taken care of easily, and being told "Ooops! Sorry, we left it too long. Now we're going to cut out all your internal organs."

This, I am told, is the return of "anxiety".

I'm trying to get the hang of it.

My brain, however, seems to know all about it.

I had a dream the other night where I went to the hairdresser and they put me under a general anaesthetic and when I woke up I was blond and had extensions...with little jingly things woven in.

It was awful.



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