What I Need, Ever The Same

Posted: July 20th, 2010 | Author: | Filed under: Uncategorized | 1 Comment »

    After yet another restless night last night, I decided to listen to some music, see if it would mellow myself out some. While doing so I stumbled onto this song by Rob Thomas titled, “Ever The Same.” I kept playing it over and over again. Listening to it this way finally started to help pull together what my heart felt and, what my head had been trying to put into words. This song epitomizes what I need to hear from anyone that is in my village right now.
    Every encounter of every day with any of you has an impact upon my well being. Being able to reach out to you, share news, fears, laughter, get a dose of reality or ask for your help — it’s like dipping my hands into and freely drinking from a pristine spring of comfort.

    I’m not normally a person to need, but now I am. More so than ever in my whole life. Being on the sidelines and watching me go through the biggest event of my life can’t be easy on you either. I’m doing my best to be considerate of you while I wage war with cancer. I really am. But sadly, I am finding myself having a limited amount of resources to do this with anymore.
    Facing one’s mortality doesn’t give someone the right to be consistently rude or mean. However, if you’re on the sidelines watching them go through this? You need to realize that on any given day, there’s a lot more swirling inside them than you can read on their face or hear in their voice.
    Every battle they endure in the war to survive takes a toll. It chews up their reserves of patience, tolerance, total awareness of their surroundings and the attention span needed not to step on other people’s toes. Some days it’s a draining battle just to stay even keeled.
    Quite frankly, this time in their life is about them, not you. Period.
    No, this fact doesn’t negate personal responsibility. It doesn’t make it permissible for them to spew out verbal or emotional vomit on a daily basis. Nor does it give you permission to do so either. Just because they may occasionally not be nicey-nicey back to you is no reason to get all bent out of shape and/or get spun up into a tizzy. If it’s not their norm? Take it on the chin and move on — better yet, sprinkle some humor and kindness around — obviously it’s what THEY need. If you need to take a break? Then take it, let the incident go and again, move on.
    Being forced to swim through the murky unknown waters of a serious illness is frightening, no matter how brave and/or strong a person may be. That water is always churning away in the background. It’s current is unrelentingly pulling at one’s unconscious effort to not get sucked into it.
   Your extra dose of patience, compassion and support are a rope to tether myself to. I will do my best not to pull you off balance or wear you out. But if you are a true friend, you will dig your feet deeper into the sand on your caregiver shore when I inadvertently tug too hard or for too long.
    If you can’t or won’t do this? If you take things way too personally, try and make this journey about your issues? You might as well have spewed emotional vomit into my pristine spring of comfort. In order for my sanity to survive intact, sadly, I’ll be forced to make do without you until my recovery is done.
    That may sound like a harsh ultimatum, but it’s not meant as such. In order for me to emotionally and physically survive I need to draw this boundary line until I’m healed. I am already finding myself having a limited amount of patience and stamina. I can’t afford to spend them on someone that’s gotten their panties or skivvies in a wad because I may have forgotten their pet peeve, repeated myself too often, or stepped on their emotional toes.
    The plastic surgeon has already warned me, “When you wake up from surgery you’re going to feel like you got run over by a Mack truck.” The Fibro isn’t going to make bouncing back an easy feat either. The best preventative medicine is for me to stay as relaxed, well rested and emotionally stable as I possibly can — so I’ll have enough energy to bounce back and heal as quickly as possible after my mastectomy and then my breast reconstruction over the next eight months or so.
    If you’ve told me that you’ll be there for me in this war for my life? I will need for you to willingly and lovingly embrace the chorus of the song that I’ve posted today …

Just let me hold you while you’re falling apart
Just let me hold you and we’ll both fall down
Fall on me
Tell me everything you want me to be
Forever with you, forever in me
Ever the same
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One Comment on “What I Need, Ever The Same”

  1. 1 Anonymous said at 6:30 pm on July 29th, 2010:

    I have tears. – Your #1 qb