Halfway through my year of bravery, I updated my blog on some successes and failures. A dentist success and failure, a sandwich-returning success, and a revelation about my poor posture, which I had forgotten about until I reread it just now!
Now for the second half.
The week before school started, that time when all stay-at-home moms (and teacher’s wives) are thinking about how they’ll miss their family and the summer schedule but also what they’re going to do with their first days of time to themselves, I developed a rather alarming health issue.
I was sure it was bladder cancer. My doctor said that people my age, and especially people who don’t smoke, just don’t get bladder cancer. Of course I thought I had it anyway.
What the doctors were more concerned about was my kidney function. I was pretty sure it wasn’t that, but I got the blood tests and the ultrasound anyway. I asked them to ultrasound my bladder and not just the kidneys, which they were kind enough to do.
This all took about a month, during which I was sure I was going to die. The funny thing about bravery is that it’s so different for all of us. It was much harder for me to deal with scheduling appointments than to think about dying. Maybe because part of me didn’t really think I was going to die; I don’t know. I think I really thought I was going to die.
My ultrasounds and blood tests came back fine. Sometime between my first appointment and my ultrasound appointment, I’d had two bouts of extreme pain for about five minutes. My self-diagnosis switched to bladder stones. I’d never heard of them until Googling around, which of course all my friends had told me not to do. (Among other things I decided I had arsenic poisoning and long-term damage from preeclampsia.) The doctors thought my problem was menstrual-related, and I wasn’t brave enough to say “I’m not a fucking moron,” but that’s what I was thinking.
As it stands now, my symptoms are gone, and the nephrologist wants me to do one more lab test so that she can discharge me from the kidney specialist department. But I don’t know, I kind of like having the nephrologist’s assistant leaving irritated messages on my answering machine. Maybe something to do with all the ridiculous errors she made along the way. Including but not limited to saying she was sending someone to my house to collect a blood sample since I was homebound. I am not homebound. Also I was supposed to give a urine sample that time, not a blood sample.
Was I brave through it all? Not particularly. I don’t even know. I stayed home more than usual, making my husband and my mom drive places I usually go. I quit cleaning the floors at the music store. I don’t think I missed giving any private lessons or gigs. One of my extreme moments of pain happened during a gig, and instead of going and sitting down I just looked at the trumpet player like “Oh shit I think I’m going to collapse.” I’m not saying it was brave, just that I was astonished beyond action. In a related note, if indeed I had bladder stones, playing a brass instrument seems to have helped me avoid surgery. If I didn’t, playing a brass instrument might have been a big mistake. We’ll never know, and that’s life.
Once you start making themes for your years, it’s hard to stop. 2017, my year of confidence, was extremely beneficial to me, and I think my year of bravery was, too. What will next year be? My daughter is graduating from high school, but who knows what else the year will bring and what I will need to face it. I considered #YearOfCider, but after trying it twice this month because it’s gluten free, I’m tired of it. I just don’t like alcohol. I also considered #YearOfSharpScales because my soloing in E and A has been sucking. Thinking about #YearOfDentures, but that might be more like 2030 or so.
What do you think? And what about you? What do you hope for 2019? What quality will you need to see it come to fruition? My best wishes for you in the new year.
M.L. Millard Books and Writing 