Back to the core.

Well, here it is a few days later.
After my last post on Friday, I cried a lot.  I stomped around.  I got angry, and then sad.
I felt overwhelmed, cheated, duped, tricked.
I stayed awake all night, thinking about all the horrible things that might be about to happen to me.
I worried.
The possibilities, the pain, the recovery.  Or the lack of one.

I cried some more.

I asked the UNIVERSE, WHY?
I looked for some meaning in all of it, and came up empty handed.

I had a headache on Friday and Saturday that just about put me to my knees. That didn't help my
outlook.
I got offended when those close to me tried to pacify me with platitudes, like "everything is going to be just fine."  I wanted my fear to be acknowledged, even if it couldn't be driven away.

Then yesterday, my headache lifted a little. I took a breath.  I tried to find my center.  I tried to push the craziness away.
Today, again,  was more bearable.

This morning, over my morning cuppa tea, I took myself over to Vicky's blog, that I've been following for a long time.
It's HERE.
I listened to her last post, with my heart.  It's hard to listen to her any other way.
I was humbled.

I took Roy for a morning walk, and through even more tears was grateful for more things than I can count.
And I turned it around.
I started thinking about something other than the "what ifs".
I thought once again about that saying that has been my life raft for 20 years now.

"And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation -- some fact of my life -- unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment."
There is more, but that's the first line, and the one engraved in my head.  Along with some extra bone, so the story goes.  (Ha!)  The extra bone is the reality,  that I need to accept as mine, no matter what.

I went to the studio, and got busy.  I refocused to what was right in front of me, because that's always the best place to start.

I cleaned the Living room, and moved some things around.  The clutter  was bothering me.

 I looked at this day, today, and made it mine.

 Then I wove for a while on my towels.  This was my view over the loom.
I listened to classical guitar on Pandora.
I practiced gratitude.  Big. Time.

For those of you who were upset with my doctor, please don't be.
He is a fine surgeon, and a fine human being.
He wanted to do a Skype with me, to save me from the 4+ hour drive one way to his office.
I was the one who said, we don't need to Skype, just shoot me an email.  Enough already with the details. 
I just wanted to know.  That was ME, not him.
Dr. Harold Rekate was the one who looked at my MRI, and identified the problem. It was the same MRI that  I had dragged around for a year, the same one that other neurologists and neurosurgeons had looked at and saw NOTHING.
I don't want another doctor.  Seriously.
You can read about him HERE   He has the kindest face, and when he speaks to you, you know that he really IS that kind.

My CT scan is tomorrow, and I am all set up for our SKYPE appointment afterwards, to discuss the
results.

I read something today that resonated.

It said:     God only gives you what he thinks you can handle.
               Apparently, God thinks I'm a BADASS.


Thank you all, for being out there still, and for holding me so close.