Damn, I Hope This Works...

This has been a stressful week. Stress, thankfully, has become something of a stranger that I have not allowed to darken my doorstep in many, many months.
The last time I consciously felt stressed out was February 10th of this year. That was the day that I left Redding for Denver, via California’s central valley. I had my friend Michael helping me with all the moving logistics, and the driving. With a few nice good-bye gatherings behind me, I was left to deal with a couple uncomfortable and awkward good-byes and severances. I went to my old house to pick up the last of my belongings, closing the door for good on my failed marriage. Painful and unnecessary were some of the parting shots.

My son, who was at the time consumed with a ton of adolescent anger, angst, and pure rage, pushed every guilt button I had over my decision to leave the state. On many fronts, I felt like I was letting others down, disappointing people I love, including myself.

Michael, in his instinctual way, reminded me of how each of those things was a lie or misperception that I had the choice to discard or glom onto. By the time we got to Denver, my entire countenance had changed.  Denver gave me the much-needed space to heal and grow and redefine myself in a way that the permutations of too much stress and pressure in life had not allowed, ever.

It's not exactly that I haven’t encountered stress since then, it is just a matter of responding to it differently, perhaps.  Even those around me have said it's eerie the calm I've had through most all of this year.  For me, it's been a wonderful transformation.  I strive to manage conflict, stress, and the unexpected with more reason, less reaction; with more authority, less indecision.  I am happier, stronger, and more resilient for the change.

This week I was confronted with more financial stressors. This thing inside me continues to empty bank accounts and drain resources. I resent the implication that this thing could lose the battle inside me, but win through the thorough annihilation of other aspects of my existence. I continue to resist that notion by taking on more work to pay for more fees, services, and medical supplies. The work drains me. It’s a vicious cycle, but I refuse to let this thing beat me over a few measly bucks. 

The greatest stressor this week was on the medical front itself. On Monday, my doctor informed me that he feels he cannot in good conscience continue with my current treatment, as the results are not as he expected. I am still progressing, but not as well as he thinks is necessary to justify the collateral damage which is occurring in this battle. We debated for almost an hour about his preferred alternative (surgery), and mine (continue with drugs). I called the doctor who diagnosed me in Denver and asked his opinion. He requested my latest rounds of tests and scans, and we talked yesterday. He agrees with me that my current treatment, with a possible tweak in medications, could continue to get the job done.

Agonizing, has been the thought, prayer, reflection, and contemplation, over what to do next. I have worked judiciously to separate my fear of the surgery from the logical aspects of each course of treatment. Even in doing so, I cannot find a place of peace in the decision to have that operation.

I’ve pretty much always been a pleaser by nature. I don’t want people upset with me. I don’t want to disappoint others. It is an extraordinarily difficult conclusion to reach, knowing that in order to follow the path of peace, I am going to have to be contrary to the medical professional who has been managing my care. I spent a good portion of yesterday and this morning investigating and interviewing new doctors/practices all over northern California in search of someone who shares my vision of how to conquer this thing. Thankfully, I found the medical care I want to pursue close by. I am extraordinarily thankful for the team and staff of people who have gotten me to this point. I am relieved that my current doctor was so compassionate and caring as I explained my decision to him. He hugged me good-bye, wished me well, and offered whatever transitional assistance would be helpful in my case.

I go tomorrow to my new providers, cloaked in peace. Before I went and said my good-byes with the other doctor, I was nervous, stressed out even, at the thought of making this change. It felt like a bit of a free fall. After saying good-bye, I was filled with peace. I know what I am doing is right. I cannot speak for certain as to the outcomes of the decision. I still pray for healing, and continued wisdom to make the choices consistent with that. But what I do know is that this is the right course for me, with a peace that passes all understanding.