The other day, when I wrote, I had so much on my mind about my risks for ovarian cancer. I had the appointment with the gynecologic oncologist the day before as well as a blood test and had just scheduled the ultrasound, which is tomorrow morning.
Yes, I'm still nervous, but not as much as I was on Thursday morning when I wrote.
I have always believed in signs. I'm not a religious person, but I am still spiritual. I believe in an afterlife. I still talk out loud to family members who have passed and so many times I have felt their presence around me. When I want answers, I have asked for help and other times have asked for signs.
One example of that happened many years ago. I was going through a rough time. One of those where it seems like everything is going wrong all at once. I remember sitting on my sofa in my tiny ground level apartment, with my kittens sleeping next to me. I was upset and crying. I remember I just kept saying over and over and over, "Oh my God, what am I going to do? Oh my God, what am I going to do?"
All of a sudden there was a loud bang. My cats woke up and jumped right off the sofa. It scared the crap out of me! It sounded like someone on the front apartment building stairs had thrown a stick or rock or something on top of my built in air conditioner unit. I got off the sofa, walked over to my sliding glass door and looked outside towards the AC unit.
Sitting on top of the AC were two gray doves.
I looked up at the sky and said, "Okay, heard it. Everything is going to be okay. Thank you. Got it."
How's that for a message? Asking "Oh my God, what am I going to do?" and stopping when two doves pound down on my AC unit in response.
Another example of that happened shortly after my grandfather passed away. He had been in the hospital for about month and died before my grandmother had to make any decisions while he was in ICU. Like the stubborn Irishman he was, no one was going to tell him what to do, even down to choosing when he was going to go.
The day of his funeral, we all met at the funeral home. The family walked together across the street to the church for his funeral mass. While I was crossing the street with my cousin next to me, dressed in a kilt was a man playing "Amazing Grace" on a bagpipe. I remember walking across the street and in my head, telling my grandfather that I wanted to know that he was okay. I asked for some sort of sign from him to let me know, something that I would understand.
The following weekend I was out with a friend listening to an Alternative/Classic Rock cover band we loved at a bar in downtown Manchester, NH. Dancing and drinking the night away to songs like "Crazy Bitch", "You Shook Me All Night Long" and "Bodies", around midnight, the band stopped mid set.
The police axillary was there. They had guys in kilts playing Irish Music with women dressed and doing Irish Step Dancing. After two of those Irish songs, they stopped. Then the bagpipes started playing "Amazing Grace". At a bar in downtown Manchester, NH after midnight on a Saturday night, in the middle of the set for an Alternative/Classic Rock cover band.
I had tears streaming down my face. I knew that was my grandfather. Yup, it was a sign I completely understood.
Well, on Wednesday night, after I got home from my appointment with the gynecologic oncologist, my head was spinning. Having a prophylactic salpingo-oophorectomy shows cancer 5% of the time? I had a 5-10% chance of being BRCA +. My mammograms were clear. My lymph nodes had a low risk of involvement. I AM MURPHY! I was trying so hard to not freak out.
That night, I was still upset. Jim fell right to sleep. I was laying in bed for hours.
That was when I started talking to my grandmother. I thought my cousin Louise, who was 38 when she was diagnosed. I was scared. And I did not want to wait possibly a week to hear anything, after having my ultrasound then getting those results. I couldn't do it.
I wanted a sign.
So I asked my grandmother and then Louise to give me a sign. I wanted a sign to let me know that I was cancer free and did not have any stage of ovarian cancer and that I would not have to go through chemo a second time for a second cancer.
When I was little, Louise owned a hair salon. I remember so many times going to her with my long hair and holding strands of hair while she put beautiful French braids down my head. I have no idea how many times she braided my hair, but it was a lot!
SO that is what I asked for. "Louise, I need a sign that I am okay. If I am okay and cancer free and won't need chemo, I know what I want for a sign. A funky French braid that I will notice. And that will tell me that I am okay."
Thursday morning, I was home and that's when I last wrote. I had an appointment for a massage at Dana Farber at 11am which was amazing and luckily I was able to put my thoughts and fear of ovarian cancer and the possibility of more chemo out of my mind.
That afternoon I went to visit a friend and to see her new house. We were both hungry so we went to a take out place to order lunch and bring it back to her house. We sat in the seats at the front window, chatting away, while we were waiting for our lunch. The order counter was right in front of where I was sitting.
Then this girl walked in to do the same thing as us.... order food to go. The girl had this weird top on that I didn't like. That's what first got my attention when she walked in. Then she headed over to the counter to order and I was looking to see the back of this shirt that I didn't like. And then I noticed her hair.
She had this sort of half French braid in, that ended in this funky bun. It was cool.
My sign! Thank you Louise. I'm going to be okay. I'm cancer free, my ovaries will be okay and I won't need to go through chemo again. I got my sign.
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