All I Want For Christmas...

I missed going to San Antonio today for peer group. The pain and the unpredictability of my bowels has kept me from enjoying the group process with my peers. I missed an opportunity for growing and for, at the moment, support.

I had to explore the more aggressive side of me today. Had to advocate for myself. Initially I was told today that the earliest I could be seen by the doctor was January 19th. I said that was not going to work for me. I needed something sooner. I was able to get to January 3, which means I will spend Christmas and New Years waiting for the surgery. All I want for Christmas is to feel whole again.

Yet, I do feel a bit of hope. More today than the last couple. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

I have been struggling with this phrase the last several days, "You have to think positive." I don't know what to do with that. I do think positive. But is my health dependent on positive thinking. If I'm not positive enough am I responsible for bad health or even dying. And what is positive thinking anyway? I know what I want and hope for. And, I believe it will happen. But, I am also aware that it may not happen the way I hope. I want to be honest about that and express that fear. People don't want to hear that. I feel as if I can't fully express my fear. Doing so says I'm not "staying positive." Not staying positive makes me responsible for the progression of my illness. It is a path I cannot go down. I already feel so much shame and pain emotionally surrounding this illness. I cannot take on that responsibility as well. I understand that those that love me find it difficult to acknowledge the very real possibilities out there for me. I get that. But, I also need a place to express my equally real fears about what could be so that I don't miss living in the now. I know our thinking impacts our physiology. I get that as well, but equally damaging to us is pretending nothing bad can happen or compartmentalizing our fear. That will kill me. Being positive means living fully in the now acknowledging that life and death is a mystery. Look, all I want for Christmas is to get this sick gut out of me. But, to pretend that I will definitely be here for next year's Christmas is not healthy. I acknowledge the reality and my very real fear. That is all. At the end, what will be will be. I just want to love what I got in the meantime.