The Truth About Being a Warrior

So here we are, two and a half weeks post-op. Lots of emotions. Ups and downs. But my tribe, my people, my community have rallied around me, and it has helped me to stay strong. I've been talking with people who have had similar experiences, and that has helped. I've been told many kind things. I've been called brave. A warrior. Some days, that helps.

But here's the truth about being a warrior. It doesn't always look like strength. And most days it sure as hell doesn't feel like it. Most days it's a struggle to get out of bed. I wake up feeling more tired than when I went to bed. The drive to work is hard. Walking into work is harder. But once I get going with my day, I'm okay. When I pass people in the hall and they ask me how I am, I try to just be really honest, because it feels weird to try and say that I'm "good". So it turns out to be a lot of clichés: "Taking it day by day." "Hanging in there."

The later it gets in the day, the harder it gets. I'm prone to sudden mood swings down. Crying at the drop of a hat. Last week we went to dinner with some friends. I made it through the meal, but I could feel it--the ability to sit in public and "people" was slowly draining out of me. And I started to cry. I had to leave, go sit in the car while Chelsey took care of the bill. It made me feel completely broken. But some days are like that.

And some days are better. I've been trying to stay busy and enjoy time with family and friends. Find the humor in each day.