Anticipation Anxiety

December 2023, a tornado swept through Clarksville, TN. Over 100 structures were damaged or destroyed. My phone alerted me that morning to tornado warnings, which put my attention directly on the radars and online storm chasers. I’m not sure why, but I wasn’t terrified. I was calm and collected. I told the boys where we would go if it hit us and to stay calm. We looked out the windows. We tensed when we heard the sirens go off. We listened and the wind violently pushed the trees around in swirling directions. They were nervous. I was not.

The power went out. We gathered blankets and brought them downstairs and ran around the house looking for candles. It took a while, but it got cold in the house. Thus began a new level of anxiety. I was not in any way prepared for that kind of event. There was absolutely no reason for me to be calm. Yet, I was. Maybe my intuition knew we were going to be fine. Or perhaps the exposure to a monumental ignorance shut me down.

The following four days were uneventful. We sustained no damage to the house. We lost all the contents of our refrigerator, but I was able to make at least one meal on my gas grill. We ate out a few times. Honestly, it was extremely cheap from the grander perspective. Families lost everything that day. My youngest son lost a fellow student from his school. We were fully intact. We had family discussions frequently about the understanding of true gratitude. Every time one of them complained, they were reminded this was a little bummer and not a big bummer.

While they fretted over no television or internet, I was frantically making lists in my head of the things I wish I had been prepared to execute. There is no excuse for me to not have excellent disaster preparedness skills and tools. I have oodles of camping gear. Not one single battery charged lantern was juiced. Not one flashlight was easy to find. All my alternative lighting was aesthetic and not functional, but at least it smelled great while we were cold!

I come from a whole existence of preparing. My parents were food storage hoarders, and my dad was borderline a “prepper.” I know that every family should have a 72-hour kit for each member. Thank goodness we never lost water! It wasn’t easy to be creative for four days. We spent a lot of time in the car with the garage cracked so we could sit in the heat, charge our devices, and watch a show. Considering this now, that’s probably why I just had to recently replace the battery. Oops! My parents were in my ear the whole time chastising my laziness and arrogance.

This era of my life, I would say that I’m fairly skilled at managing a dynamic situation. Something clicks in my brain and maps out the path to mission completion. My brain starts categorizing efforts, strategies, resources, and assets all to shape the plan. It doesn’t take me long and I account for bumps and pivots along the way. But, it comes easily. I’m seeing the adjustments I need to make to accommodate my family more efficiently in the next event now, in technicolor. Which has come in very handy with my current event.

April 5, 2024, I will be undergoing a bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction. Within the next two weeks I will have another biopsy on the axillary lymph node. The MRI showed more tumors behind the first larger mass, that appear to be disease. It additionally showed abnormalities in the lymph node. As of this past Wednesday, the surgical plan is set. The pathology on the lymph node will be something that will be addressed likely through post operation therapies. The lymph nodes may be removed as well. That is to be determined. There is potential for both radiation and chemotherapy. The necessity of radiation will delay reconstruction with the use of implant expanders. I have requested skin saving and nipple saving incisions. The locality and severity of the cancer will play a role in the successful outcome of that endeavor.

The warning alerts are blaring. The storm is coming. The project is shaped. My brain is engaged.

Emotionally, I am a total basket case. My nerves are shot. My mood is erratic. I can cry or scream at the most minor of inconvenience. I’m unreasonable. I am not myself. The past couple of days I have spent relatively quiet. My journal is getting filled. Sometimes multiple times a day. My friends and family have been incredibly loving. It has been that support that has kept me focused on the important matters.

The hardest pill I’m currently working down my throat is the decision to send the boys to be with their dad. It is absolutely the right decision. Each day of working on that acceptance has been the bitterest and delectable taste I’ve ever experienced. Looking at their faces every day, I’m seeing different layers I hadn’t seen before. I’m being introduced to a sweetness they haven’t exposed me to. They’re upset to leave but understand why. We talked about it as a family.

When it started to set in, I looked at them. My chest tightened as I realized these little faces are going to look so different the next time I’m holding them. In that moment, I told them not to change. Don’t forget how happy we are. Don’t go backwards. Keep being amazing. Protect each other. Don’t forget who you are. This is the most painful part.

There is no fear of not beating this. I have many experiences this body was designed to have. There are daily awakenings that are good. My anxiety however, has never been this taxed. Having such a quick ability to formalize an expectation of this situation has been Olympic level gymnastics. My logical processes are cracked out and eating sugar. My emotional organization is beginning to splinter. I haven’t felt this fragile since learning of Connor’s pending arrival. It’s a lot. It’s the most. It’s terrifying I haven’t absolutely crumbled to the point of exhaustion. This anticipated anxiety is bar none my summit.