Wrestling

The last 48 hours have been rough.

I should have had a PET scan done by now.

I should be preparing for a follow-up appointment with my oncologist by now.

I should be getting work in order to either prepare for surgery or prepare for chemotherapy.

Instead, I'm waiting.

In the last 48 hours, the lack of control I have has become abundantly clear.  My Oncologist submitted a claim to my insurance for a PET scan Tuesday morning.  It was denied because "the medical necessity of this diagnostic test cannot be verified."  This diagnostic test was supposed to determine if I was ready for chemotherapy or if I need surgery to remove any affected lymph nodes.  Not medically necessary my ass.

My Oncologist has called me, not an assistant, not a nurse, the doctor herself called me, expressing the utmost apologies and telling me that she is going to challenge the ruling by insurance.  Great.  I can't do anything.  My near future is no longer mine to control.  I am like a newborn, my existence is being governed by outside forces.

I was mad today.  I shut down today.  Part of me feels as if I need to apologize to my supervisor for the way I acted at work today.

And here I sit.  Vodka and rootbeer in hand.  I'm still mad, I still want to shut down, I still feel helpless, I still feel as if my life is no longer my own.

But, I have made a decision to wrestle.  I feel like Jacob in the story that has our titular character apparently wrestling with God itself, not willing to let go until he has received a blessing.  A true story or not, it brings me comfort.

It's rough.  I left a career about five months ago because I was still looking for my story.  I think this might be it, or at least a piece of it.  My experience, at birth (a story in and of itself) and now, makes me come to a conclusion.  Either there is some kind of purpose, maybe some kind of Divine Intervention (which I struggle with believing), behind my life, or I am incredibly lucky.

Either way, I'm determined to make my life matter.  To lessen the suffering of others.  I don't know what that means yet, but I've got time to figure it out.

I'm determined to wrestle with this, to figure out what kind of meaning (what kind of blessing) I can pull from this nightmare.  At times, it feels like I'll never wake up from it, a shadow that overwhelms my very existence.  But for there to be shadow, there must also be light.