Health knowledge made personal
Join this community!
› Share page:
Search posts:

I’ve read others’ stories about ...

Posted Sep 29 2008 4:42pm

I’ve read others’ stories about their experiences with Solumedrol –the physical and emotional rivalries that take place inside the body and mind.   So many emotions; all splayed out for the world to see.   My emotions haven’t known how to splay themselves anywhere – except deep inside for longer than a week now.   Sure, I snapped a little now and again, felt frustrated, even looked and maybe sounded grumpy or angry.   But my emotions were stewing in the pit of my belly, just screaming to get out.   In fact, I began to think the feeling in my stomach that I describe as this awful ache-from-the-inside-out tummy ache was nothing more than pent up emotions looking to blow off some steam.

By Saturday afternoon, I was Jonesing for a safe-your-life sob.    I put a plan into motion.   I pulled out the old, sad memories – imagining deep sadness in my future while the hubby was out shopping for Mother’s Day.   I looked at old photos that normally would start the tears swelling.   I even re-read some of the letters I wrote to my step-children when they were little and when I was first diagnosed with cancer; letters filled with advice on how to care for their father should I have passed on at the time.   Nada.   Nothing worked.   In a moment of sheer desperation, I actually considered running my foot right into the edge of the bed, risking injury just to conjure up a little salty relief from my tear ducts.

Then, while flipping through the satellite, I found my refuge:  P.S. I Love You: a 2007, 2 ½ starred movie with a plot that was sure to satisfy.   In the flick, a husband – suffering from a terminal brain tumor – goes to great strides to prepare letters, gifts, trips, and special moments for his young wife who he knows will have a hard time transitioning her life upon his pending passing.   His gift to her, a way to help her see through the sadness, carries on for the entire first year after his death.    Thirty minutes into the movie, I was sobbing.   Another thirty and the relief started to pour out.   By the time it was over, I could barely breathe.   Until I was actually able to laugh with a little relief.

It was all out there.   All in the open.   And after a long, tiring movie, my eyes had actually swelled up to meet my water-retaining cheeks perfectly.   No more circles, no more bags.   Just pleasantly serviced tear ducts, awash in relief and relaxation and rosy, swelled cheeks jiggling up and down with each sob or laugh.   My toes wiggled with glee, too; happy they would be spared from broken bones and torn tendons, all for the sake of emotional release.

Post a comment
Write a comment:

Related Searches