Compelled towards Gratitude

This may seem like a strange confession – but I never intended to blog.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I have anything to say against this form of written expression.  I truly enjoy reading what others bloggers have to say and have compiled a blogroll of favorites that I’ll be sharing with you in the future.  I simply never intended becoming a blogger because I didn’t think I had anything to say that would be of interest to others.  But as the phenomenon of the blog continued to increase (there are now over 170,000,000 blogs to date), I began to ponder some things in my heart. Why would a person willingly choose to allow their personal journal (journey) to be viewed by the public? What was the catalyst behind this new and growing craze? And was there something cathartic about this experience?

I recently asked a friend why she blogged and she told me that as her husband’s disease progressed and his ability to communicate deteriorated, blogging satisfied her deep need to converse with others albeit the written word and not the spoken.  In addition, it had given her the means to leave behind (in written form) a legacy of love and  family history that would be read and cherished by her three daughters and their families after she was gone. That I get.

But for me, there was no desire to put into written words the thoughts, hopes and dreams that were dearest to me.  I had no compulsion, no inner drive to risk public exposure or the possibility of censure.  These things were stored safely in my heart and, thank you very much, that’s where they were going to stay! To even contemplate such a thing was ludicrous. My life was my own, to do with as I pleased. But then something happened that changed all that – I thought I was about to lose it.

I won’t go into great detail, but a medical issue arose in mid-January while I was vacationing in Florida. Upon my return home, I went to see my doctor and he suggested that we act immediately. Blood tests were done posthaste and an ultrasound and biopsy with a specialist, would follow one week later.  When the initial blood tests revealed that my symptoms were not due to a hormonal imbalance, anemia or hypothyroidism, the list of potential causes became shorter albeit more serious.

The ultrasound revealed some possible culprits – endometrial fibroids and ovarian cysts. A bit of research on my part revealed that these growths were almost always benign and could easily be taken care of.  I breathed a big sigh of relief. It wasn’t until sitting in the examining room of  the ob/gyn that I began to comprehend the seriousness of the situation.  According to the doctor, one of my ovarian cysts was abnormal and possibly cancerous. I would need another test – a CA-125 blood test to be used as a marker for cancerous tumors.  If the test came back negative, then I had nothing to panic over. A positive test would mean surgery and another biopsy.

to be continued…

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