I am an ex-welfare worker, and know all about the stages of grief etc but today was … strange.
I woke up (at 4am after 2 hours sleep) feeling much better than yesterday, emotionally at least. I was calm, I was peaceful. I picked my mother up at 8.20 to go to the imaging place to have a chest xray and liver ultrasound done (to check for secondaries). My appointment was for 8.45. When I arrived there was only one woman before me, and nobody else in the place. 9am came and neither of us had been seen. People started flooding in and going in for their xrays!! After ½ an hour I was highly irritated and was about to stand up and say ’excuse me?!’ when I finally got called in. Had my ultrasound, came out to have to now wait for my chest xray, having to go back to the back of the queue. I was pretty pissy by the time I got out of there.
Driving from there to the gym I got pissier at all the stupid drivers around me. At the gym I was pissed off because someone else was behind the curtain part of the change room – getting changed – which was cool because I just quickly got changed right there in the change room. But … she had left some of her shit on the only chair in the main part of the changeroom so I couldn’t sit down to put my shoes on. Getting pretty agro by now.
Had a long talk with the manager of the place as it was my day to be measured and weighed etc, and she wanted to know what the latest was with my situation. Her mother is going through the same thing. I told her I would have to stop gym fees coming out of my account because it was probably going to be at least 12 months before I could even think of coming back. I told her that really pissed me off because I was getting so fit and healthy and now I had to give it up.
After that I only had time (and she would only allow me because I hadn’t been allowed to eat any food since the night before because of the ultrasound) to have a very quick, light workout. The music was hard core dance. It would have been most excellent music to really work out hard to. Get some aggression out. When we were leaving the manager came up to talk to us again and I told her “I think I’m hitting an angry stage ha ha ha”. And Mum commented that she had noticed it brewing inside me the moment she got in the car when I picked her up. The strange thing was, I hadn’t felt it. I wasn’t angry then. Not even irritated.
On the drive home back to Mum’s, I swear, if I had an opportunity to get out of my car and give someone a dose of my road rage I would have ended up in jail. I felt the anger bubbling up through my middle, waiting to erupt. And what is strangest about this is there was no specific thing that was bringing this on. It was entirely subconscious/unconscious whatever. I hadn’t been dwelling on the big things that might of course make me angry … like my life being totally thrown upside down and to the winds, at having to give up so many things. None of that. It was just … there. It happened organically all by itself. White hot rage brewing. Thankfully some coffee at my Mum’s and a rash phone call to the hairdressers, brought me back down.
I’ll be buggered if I know how that happened, I expected an angry time, and will have many more intermingled with confusion/bargaining/denial/depression all of those other stages etc. The subconscious is a scary thing … the way it works.
Yes. I rang the hairdressers. I did something rather drastic today. I had been needing a haircut anyway, but today I decided to get it cut off. Just like that. Short. Not short like I have in my photos of the old blonde/pixie-short days. But something a lot easier care, less styling, in time for hospital and having problems with my right arm. It made me very sad, the thought of cutting all my long hair off, but I managed.
It’s now collarbone length, say, and because of the layers has gone all curly and kind of chin length! And I have a fringe. I don’t have to drag the hair back off my face anymore. I actually like it. I feel perky and pretty lol! It accentuates my eyes more. And I don’t have to blow dry it more to the point. SO much easier. And … less face it … it’s ALL going to go one day soon anyway. Less hair to find on my pillow 🙁 When THAT stage comes, I’m going to shave it all off rather than try to hang on to piddly straggly bits.
I don’t know if men understand the psychology of women’s hair lol! When the going gets tough, the tough drastically change their hair. Funny phenomenon. I DO know there are a couple of men who are not going to be happy with the change when I tell them though. Ah well. It will grow back. If I had a dollar for how many times I’ve already been told that …
Tomorrow is “Find Out Whether It Has Metastisized” Day. I won’t pretend I’m not petrified.