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Reply and Update

I just received the following comment and wanted to write a proper response, so I thought I’d make it a post rather than a short comment. I’ve been meaning to write anyway, so this is a great reason to do so. I swore I would keep up, but alas, life keeps moving swiftly.

Hi Kat

I’m curious how you’re doing now. I’m having a TT for Graves Disease on Jan 3rd and I’m soooo anxious about life without my thyroid. All of the horror stories on the Internet have me so scared. Your story seems like a positive one so far. How are you doing now? I’m hoping that the few posts/updates means you’re out there living your life and not worrying about your thyroid anymore!!! Please let me know there is hope after TT!!!

Jen

Hi Jen, thank you for the comment and for the nudging me to update my story. I have indeed been living life like crazy for the last few months, which is why I haven’t written. Since July, I’ve done/am doing the following:

  • moved from my apartment of 6 years into my boyfriend’s house
  • studied for/took the GMAT
  • quit my job (to travel and move)
  • received immunizations for Polio, Typhoid, Yellow Fever, etc.
  • traveled within Africa for 3 weeks
  • was on anti-malarial preventative medication for a month
  • sold my car and half of my furniture
  • traveled back and forth from Atlanta to Denver/Boulder three times to piece together a multistage, cross-country move
  • moved from Atlanta to Colorado via moving van for three days
  • finishing up my application for an MBA program

I’m still in the process of getting settled, looking for a job, finding my way around, writing application essays, dealing with car insurance bureaucracy for a complicated car-borrowing situation, looking for a new endocrinologist, etc….

Indeed, living life.

Things have been a little irregular with my TSH levels, but I attribute that to the travel and transition from Atlanta to Colorado that is still in a bit of upheaval.  I realize you probably deal more with T4 and T3, as I did since my TSH was pretty much at a constant .01, so relying more on TSH is something you’ll get used to after your TT.

I started with 112mcg of Synthroid (brand specific!) and my TSH shot up to about double the “normal” range.  I was then put on 137mcg (two notches up in dosage) and at 6 weeks my TSH was headed back down toward hyper-range, and I was put on 125mcg.  This seemed like the Goldilocks method (too little, too much, just right) so I figured we’d found our stable dosage.  The catch is, I left for Africa the week I started on 125mcg and had little control over what I was eating – and we were all eating A LOT!  Go figure.  There could have been soy oil in everything for all I knew.  When I did my labs (at only 4 weeks due to out of state circumstances) my TSH was way up and she wanted to put me back on 137mcg.  This did not make sense to me because I was headed toward hyper on that dosage just weeks earlier.  (I may be one of the few people you hear of that refuses a higher dosage, but I was having heart palpitations on 137mcg like I did when I was hyper naturally)  So I held off and did my labs a couple of weeks later (again, still too soon, but necessary due to circumstance) and it appears as though my TSH is headed back in the right direction on 125mcg.  Another kink in the chain, I was on Malarone – an anti-malarial for almost 30 days and that could’ve had an impact on my absorption.  The color of the pill looked like it had pigment made from iron oxide – and that could have interfered with absorption.

As you can see, there were way too many variables to really be messing with dosage.  I have to say, I’ve felt great and not great on each level of medication I’ve been on.  It’s been so long since I’ve lived without an awareness of thyroid levels that I forgot what used to be “normal” for me.  I’ve always been hyper-aware of changes in my body and when my levels fluctuated while I still had my own thyroid hormone, I could predict my lab results based on various physical symptoms, my menstrual cycle, and anxiety levels.  With Synthroid, my T4 hasn’t fluctuated as much as my TSH, and perhaps that’s why I don’t feel the changes as subtly as I did previously.

Since my surgery, my menstrual cycle is exactly 28 days no matter where my levels are.  That’s kind of weird.

Since I’ve stopped living out of a suitcase, remained in one time zone, and resumed cooking for myself, I am starting to feel better.  I had put on a couple of pounds before I left for Africa, looking back, it seems stress related, but nothing anyone besides myself might notice, and then added about four more in Africa.  I started to freak out, wondering if this was going to spiral out of control.  I think indeed it easily could if I continued to eat road and restaurant food I while remaining sedentary as I couldn’t help but do, whether due to the moving truck, sitting on one of my 13 plane rides or even in Africa where it wasn’t safe or possible to go out for a jog among the hyena of the Masaai Mara or get lost out in the the middle of the Great Rift Valley in a little place called Ewaso.

So, as my life begins to stabilize, I predict that so will my TSH.

If I could offer some words of encouragement…

I would tell you not to be scared, but I know that’s impossible.  I was absolutely terrified before my surgery.  The best thing that I did for myself was finding a way to just let go.  It was the ultimate lesson in learning to stop trying to control.  You are the only one who knows what your personal lessons are surrounding this and it is a huge opportunity for personal evolution and growth that many people do not have the chance to undertake.  Perhaps that sort of perspective can help calm your mind as it did mine.

Aside from the fact that I wake at 4 a.m. to take my pill every day, Graves’ Disease has been MUCH less intrusive in my life than it has been the last six years.  I still feel relief.  I still am thankful and find it difficult to believe that I have already gone through surgery.  It still feels like a weight has been lifted.  I still have $14K in debt, but after the initial sticker shock, that even feels okay.  I’m alive, I’m functioning well, I feel positive about my future.  I don’t have a single, miniscule thread of doubt or regret about making the decision that took me the better part of three years to make.

My scar is longer than most people’s because my thyroid was pretty big.  It’s still red, but I haven’t bothered with Maderma or anything to minimize it.  As soon as I find it, I’ll start using it.  I kind of liked the novelty of it, it was something awesome to show for what I went through.  Now it just clashes with necklaces…  I don’t really have any hang-ups about scars, so it’s not an issue for me like it can be for a lot of people.  My concern has always been the weight, muscle-wasting, and heart damage issues.  I feel the surgery definitely mitigated those for sure!  One more thing…  I’ve stopped obsessively searching the internet for answers that don’t exist.  What a relief.

I hope what I’ve said encourages optimism in you.  I feel that above all, my greatest asset was my positive attitude that came from I don’t know where, just in time for the surgery.  I think it was a gift that I was too sick for the original surgery date, as I was not in the proper head space for the best outcome.  Attitude will be your best ally.  That does not mean you can’t be scared, but you can feel the fear and still have a positive outlook.  There is no other way to look at it.

If you want more detail regarding any aspect I may or may not have mentioned, ask away!  I’m very open to sharing, just busy 🙂

I wish you the best of luck, Jen.  You will be fine.  Just take it one thing at a time.

Sincerely,

Kat

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Here goes…

Well, what’s left to say?  I spent the day running last minute errands.  My mom and I went to the Farmer’s Market to get mushy food in case I feel like I can’t put down the solid stuff.  We got some sweet potatoes for mashing; lots of beans for pureeing; kale, bananas, berries, and parsley (forgot the celery) for smoothie-ing; soup for healing…

Yesterday I worked out the crazy medical bills that have started to come in and stress me out.  I paid the $54.00 doctor bill which is separate from the hospital bill in that the doctor charges for the interpretation of the ultrasound and EKG while the $399.00 hospital bill is for the actual ultrasound performance.  The $889.00 “this is not a bill” statement of charges that is being sent to my insurance is for the EKG and laboratory work that was done during my pre-op appointment – fortunately they did not have to re-do the pre-op or that would’ve been a really expensive cold I caught.  I thought I was only going to be responsible for a little over $1,000 for the actual surgery, but after the second woman I spoke with and the varying ways different people code medical procedures, I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to be facing financially.  The good news is that two of the three people I’ve spoken to at the billing department of Emory University Hospital told me the something similar, which is that I can arrange a payment plan once I receive a bill and I don’t have to sort it out beforehand.  So, I opened a tab with $399.00 which I will begin paying in May since I don’t work two weeks this month, and as I receive the next two, I can just call them up and have ’em put it on my tab.  Gotta do what you gotta do, eh?

Earlier today, my surgeon’s secretary gave me a call to make sure we’re still on for surgery tomorrow.  Not sure why she didn’t call the first time, but she did have heart surgery recently, so I’ll give her a pass on that one…  She’s a sweet lady, a bit odd, but in a good way.  While I had her on the phone, I asked her a question about something that has been concerning me.  T.M.I. ALERT!!  My period is due tomorrow.  Of course that’s no guarantee that it will come, but the way things have been going, I figured I’d be in for it on surgery day.  I know that when you have anesthesia, you have to remove all metal from your body – jewelry, piercings, etc., as it will burn you or something of the like.  On top of that, on my first go-round, they told me to get completely undressed under my gown, under-roos and all.  Since you never really know what goes into certain products, and if I were to use an internal feminine hygiene device a tampon, what if there’s some metallic derivative, like how they use aluminum in antiperspirant, and I end up with third degree burns on my delicate lady walls?  As ridiculous as that sounds, I’m not taking any chances.  Maybe they have some kind of surgical menstrual diaper or something, how do I know?  So she puts me on hold to ask the surgeon before I could protest, then comes back on the line and tells me “He said ‘you’ll be fine'”.  Oh, good.  I guess I’ll just ask tomorrow if circumstances call for it, like I should’ve just decided to do in the first place.

So, that’s what’s going on with me.  A little more peace, a little more ease.  I do still have a bit of the collywobbles.  I had one angry outburst due to an upturned bowl of quinoa and broccoli, as well as a couple of stress dreams, but overall, doing much better than the first try.  It’s really strange how this feels physically.  The first time, I was so knotted up that a two hour massage couldn’t fix it.  Then, after the post I wrote about the three poisons, where I realized I had the choice to let go or try to hold onto my metaphoric jello by squeezing it in my fist, I really did let go.  I completely forgot about the knot in my shoulder, it just dissolved.  What I’ve been feeling now is the very same feeling I felt in my body while getting ready for the seventh grade dance where I told my “boyfriend” I’d kiss him afterward; the very same feeling I had five minutes before the end of the school day in seventh grade as I prepared to speed-walk out to my bus while the six girls who bullied me daily chased after me, threatening to “kick my ass”, as was the popular phrase back then.  Whether it was anticipating an exciting first experience or the fear of physical harm, it was the exact same feeling back then, and the chemicals running through my bloodstream are the exact same ones now.  They transported me back to those moments instantly, like a smell that puts you in the most specific time and place.  The fire in my belly makes me wonder if I’m excited, like I’d feel if I was moving to Paris, but the brain says “Holy shit, I’m about to jump off a ten story building and I’m not sure if that’s a regulation air mattress down below”.

I’m experiencing some unease, but I think that’s natural for anyone about to go under for any kind of surgery.  The difference this time is that I’m breathing, thinking and feeling more positive, and absolutely ready to lift this heavy burden that I’ve carried for the last six years so that I can move forward with my life and do the things I’ve been wanting to do.  I’m looking forward to not losing any more precious moments that would’ve been filled with laughter and joy, but instead were filled with self-consciousness and focused on ways to hide my neck.  I think of how many more moments I could’ve enjoyed in my very special trip to Costa Rica, how many more pictures I would’ve participated in, how many more times I could’ve been truly present.  I’m ready to participate in life instead of hiding from it, one step at a time.

I have to be to the hospital at 7:30 a.m. and surgery is scheduled for 9:30, but I’ve been told it will probably be at 10:30 since it’s not a normal surgery day.  I anticipate returning home on Saturday morning.  I will try to post about my experience as I recover and I also have some pictures that I might share.  I also have a few episodes of An Idiot Abroad and Arrested Development to keep me smiling.  Thank you to all of you who have wished me well over the course of the last few months.  I feel surrounded by light and love, and I am smiling.  Here goes…..

 

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You can’t hold onto Jello by squeezing it in your fist.

Things have slowly settled into place since my surgery was rescheduled.  My boss at work retooled the entire schedule so that I could work a full schedule up until the day before surgery.  I know that had to be a pain in the ass, so that felt really generous of her.  Even though I did end up with a couple of extra days off the first week, which makes finances a little tight, at least I’m not out of work for a month.  That’s a huge relief!

I was able to reschedule my tax appointment for a day that does not interfere with work.  That was a concern since my tax guy is way out in the suburbs.  To make tax day easier to take, the three of us (my mom, Anto, and myself) are going to head up to Amicalola Falls afterward and make a day trip out of it with a picnic and a hike.  Lovely.

My mom’s original return flight was April 1st.  Being that my surgery was rescheduled for April 6, we looked into what it would cost to change the return date.  Turns out it would be about $350!!  So, I looked to Ol’ Faithful: Clark Howard’s Atlanta travel deals website to see if there were any deals.  It just so happened that Frontier was running a special to Albuquerque, where my mom lives.  We decided to wait a day or two to book the one way ticket, as we were waiting to hear back from the surgeon’s secretary who told us she might be able to reschedule for March 30.  I went to check if the deal was still on the next day and all the information was replaced with a notice that the Clark Howard show was on vacation in Europe and travel deals would resume the following week.  What luck!  If I hadn’t checked it the day before, I’m not sure I would’ve discovered the fare sale.  So we went ahead and booked with Frontier.  It cost $244, including two checked bags which would’ve run an additional $30 for one on the original flight with United.

As it turns out, I may even just get a night or two in the cabin in the woods, yet!  My mom will only be here for one week following my surgery, rather than two, so if we can get it, we’ll go to the cabin just four days after my surgery.  Knowing that many people with desk jobs return to work after one week, I am hoping that a one hour car ride won’t be too much for me.  I think a couple days to relax in the woods will be just what the doctor ordered.  *fingers crossed*

So, it seems that when you just let go, things eventually work out.  I can’t tell you how stressed I felt the moment the decision was made to delay surgery.  Not knowing how difficult each variable would be to change.  I just had to approach it one thing at a time.  When I wrote the last post, I had chosen to let go and felt a tremendous weight lifted.  Fortunately it stuck.  I’ve remained loose.  It had been like trying to hold onto Jello.  The tighter I clench my fist, the more of it that squeezes out through my fingers and onto the floor.  If I just open up my hand and let it be, it’ll wiggle and dance in its gelatinous glory and remain in one piece.  Then, if it still flops on the floor, it’s because there was an earthquake or I fell asleep, either way, due to events beyond my control.  Not the most graceful analogy, but you catch my drift.

 

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Do Over.

I had an epiphany yesterday.  As positively as I may seem when writing about this experience so far, ending my posts on the positive note, I hadn’t felt that way offline.  The entire past few weeks, I’ve been emotionally and physically tied up in knots.  My shoulders have been up to my ears and I couldn’t loosen up despite stretching and massage.  I was flailing about desperately.  It put a strain on my emotional well-being, my physical well-being, and the well-being of a most important relationship.  I have to say, I was really surprised when taking the perspective of the outside observer.  I normally lean into the dark, messy, scary parts of life.  I am not afraid of my emotions, I understand that they pass through like a storm or a cold, and know not to identify with them or let them envelope me.  I normally would consider myself pretty strong and feel like I always pull through when things come down to the wire.  I was surprised to see how difficult I was making this on myself, how much resistance I had, and quite frankly, with how little grace I was approaching this ordeal.

My Mom and I did a Native American ceremony, like we’ve done for most of the big events in my life, to help me to say goodbye to my thyroid the night before the surgery.  I did some heavy emotional and spiritual work for over two hours.  I realized that I have so many personal issues tied to this decision.  In many ways, I’d felt like a failure by not being able to heal myself and that cutting it out is equivalent to giving up/quitting/failing.  I questioned whether I’d been on the verge of healing and was I giving up right before some great success, like healing wasn’t possible sans gland.  I’ve chosen to give up the illusion of control and the most fundamental form of self sufficiency.  These are difficult things for me to give up.  Letting go of my thyroid goes against some of my very strong convictions.  Many times it’s the belief systems that are harder to let go of than anything else.  This is the work I did Monday night.

I made some progress, enough that I was able to go through with it all before the surgeon called it off.  I woke the next day feeling pretty depressed.  I wrote about it.  I did indeed go for a walk, which made me feel better, but those feelings crept back in later that evening.  I couldn’t sleep, I was feeling desperate, looking to cling to something, some kind of guarantee.  Looking back, I know that it was all in an effort to avoid, to resist, to shield myself from change, from fear, from the ache of loss.  The irony is that all of these attempts just exacerbate those feelings that I was so desperately trying to avoid.  We can not both fully live and avoid these messy bits.  They are part of life.  I was reminded of this the next morning.

I awoke Thursday knowing that I could not continue to approach the situation the way I had been, and I picked up Comfortable With Uncertainty, 108 Teachings on Cultivating Fearlessness and Compassion, by well known American Buddhist nun and author Pema Chodron.  Among others, I read the following passage, which spoke to me and opened me to epiphany:

The Three Poisons

“In the Buddhist teachings, the messy emotional stuff is called klesha, which means poison.  There are three main poisons:  passion, aggression, and ignorance.  We could talk about these in different ways — for example, we could also call them craving, aversion, and couldn’t care less.  Addictions of all kinds come under the category of craving, which is wanting, wanting, wanting — feeling that we have to have some kind of resolution.  Aversion encompasses violence, rage, hatred, and negativity of all kinds, as well as garden-variety irritation.  And ignorance?  Nowadays, it’s usually called denial.

The three poisons are always trapping you in one way or another, imprisoning you and making your world really small.  When you feel craving, you could be sitting on the edge of the Grand Canyon, but all you can see is this piece of chocolate cake that you’re craving.  With aversion, you’re sitting on the edge of the Grand Canyon, and all you can hear is the angry words you said to someone ten years ago.  With ignorance, you’re sitting on the edge of the Grand Canyon with a paper bag over your head.  Each of the three poisons has the power to capture you so completely that you don’t even perceive what’s in front of you.

The pith instruction is, whatever you do, don’t try to make the poisons go away.  When you’re trying to make them go away, you’re losing your wealth along with your neurosis.  The irony is that what we most want to avoid in our lives is crucial to awakening bodhichitta.  These juicy emotional spots are where a warrior gains wisdom and compassion.  Of course, we’ll want to get out of those spots far more often than we’ll want to stay.  That’s why self-compassion and courage are vital.  Without loving-kindness, staying with pain is just warfare.”

That was the one that blew it wide open for me.  I’ll spare you a line by line analysis as to how this resonated with me, but the short story is; the reason I’ve been having such difficulty is because I’ve been using every trick in my book, every old pattern from childhood to try to avoid these poisons as if they’d kill me.  Hilariously enough, as most of the lessons in my life tend to be, it is all due to a decision I made.  Oh, life, you’re such a prankster!  After reading several more passages on the heels of this one, I realized that I can simply decide to let go, let that stuff in, breathe, and enjoy the life I have rather than be consumed by avoiding.  I did, and instantly my body loosened up, my mind freed up, I felt like I got my life back, like I could be me again.  This surgery being delayed gave me a chance to do it over again with some dignity and grace.  I found something bigger to lean on, something that won’t crumble under the weight of me and something that creates space and light within me.  I just need to remind myself if the vices start to tighten again.

 

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T minus 12 hours…

I’m starting to get butterflies.  I haven’t been able to focus much on the upcoming surgery because I was walloped with a nasty cold late Friday night.  I was basically bedridden all of Saturday; managed to take a shower without passing out on Sunday; had my friend/neighbor to drive me to the airport to pick up my mom, as I did not feel it was safe for me to be driving; but started to do better once I was able to eat some food.  Today I am finally getting stronger and feeling better.  I do have a horrendous cough and it is a concern for me that the anesthesiologist may opt to delay surgery.

At this point, it’s been such a long, drawn out, emotional process that I just want to get it over with already.  I feel like I’m at the end of a very long, very high diving board and as I take my first bounce, they might tell me to climb down and come back another day.  I had an unfortunate experience with a diving board in seventh grade, so I’d rather just cannonball off the side.  Even if it’s not as graceful, at least I’ve taken the leap and I’m in the water.   I must admit, there is, and will probably always be, a part of me that believes that this organ belongs in my body and would do anything to avoid having it cut from my neck.  Delaying my decision, however, is not the answer.  It may be what happens due solely to safety reasons, but it will not be my call.

I spoke with a nurse from general surgery and she said I could take an expectorant, so I went straight to cvs and grabbed some to give my lungs every chance to be as clear as possible by tomorrow morning.  Last night I hovered over a bowl of steaming eucalyptus water – being a soap-maker comes in handy more often than you’d think.  That seemed to have helped based on the way I felt this morning.

When I laugh though….   I sound like I’ve spent thirty years suckin’ on the butt end of a Marlboro Red.  *shudder*  The nurse did say that it’s common to reschedule surgery when the patient has been sick, but she also gave me the option to reschedule or move forward based on how bad I feel.  I actually felt pretty good about halfway through today.  I get short of breath easily, but I’m rapidly gaining strength.  I feel like this is my time to be strong.  This is my time to dig deep and use the power of my body’s central operating system – my brain – and remember how robust my life force is when I think positively.  I remember how relatively easily I made it through my tonsillectomy 13 years ago.  I’ve made it through countless difficult physical situations simply by breathing, letting go, and understanding that it won’t last forever and all I have to do is make it through one moment at a time until I’m thriving.  Someone please remind me of this when I need it.

 

 
 

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Without fear, there can be no courage.

I had my pre-op appointment yesterday morning at 7 am. It was not a big deal, really. Just a bunch of different people asking me the same questions over and over, taking some blood work, giving an EKG, and some poking and prodding. As they were describing how the day of surgery would go, I got that cotton mouth feeling that I’ve only ever gotten a couple of times in my whole life due to sheer panic.

Given that I was in considerable pain the night before, I ended up with maybe an hour, possibly two, of sleep. On top of that, I’ve been under so much stress, riddled with fear and anxiety, that I wasn’t really as able to cope with things as well as I maybe should have been. One of the nurses who came in to ask me a bunch of questions, out of nowhere, offered up this statement.

“The thyroid gets blamed for so many things. I’m overweight, it must be my thyroid.”

…with the obvious sarcasm that no, if you’re overweight, it’s because you’re a lazy slob who eats doughnuts and pizza for breakfast…   So I couldn’t help but say to her (refined for the purpose of this blog):

“The body is so complicated that you never really can be sure, but as a person who’s lived in this body through the ups and downs of six years of unstable thyroid levels, I can tell you that it does indeed affect your weight.  When I came out of remission and went on tapazole again, it was like I got belly fat overnight.  It was the craziest thing.”

To which she said, dismissively, “yes, mhmm…” and went on about her business.  I squelched the urge to shout

“You know what lady…  do YOU have thyroid disease?  Have YOU ever lived through the highs and lows of thyroid levels?  Just because my levels look good to you doesn’t mean that you know what is normal for me.  A good medical professional listens to their patient, doesn’t just dismiss their input as irrelevant because the books you read are the end all and be all of thyroid fact.  There is a lot of controversy over the “normal” range being far too wide here in the U.S. and you don’t know shit about how in tune I am with my body or how much I’ve educated myself about my disease, so you can take your “yeah, mmhhmmm” attitude and shove it back to 1982, when I thought doctors – or in your case nurse’s – knew everything and there was no reason to question or participate in my own medical care.  If weight isn’t affected by thyroid, then why the shit is it on every list of symptoms to look for regarding thyroid disease?  Just Feck Off!”

This outrage was let loose in the car ride home in the form of a rant, which did not sit well with my company….   I just don’t know what to do with that rage, and if I let it fester, I’m bound to have a worse experience where I’m already having trouble focusing away from the fear.  I have read about and experienced a lot of this type of dismissal from medical professionals when seeking help and participating in my own treatment plan, and I refuse to believe that those people can provide better treatment than someone who listens to what I tell them is happening in my body.  I am not the majority who would rather bury their head in the sand and take a magic pill everyday.

Doctors simplify things for their patients, with good reason, but things are so complex and often times patients are not even made aware of treatment options other than the one the doctor prefers.  I happen to prefer to be in the know, even if it is a hundred times scarier.  At least I can make the decision that feels right to me and I will not be a victim of someone else’s priorities (i.e. pharmaceutical industry influence, insurance coverage, etc.).  I am fortunate that I found an endocrinologist who has been patient with me and allowed me to direct the course of my treatment because after some time, she realized I was a responsible patient.  I had to prove that to her, I understand that, but she also didn’t write me off immediately just because I didn’t go to school to be a doctor.

All of this is just a symptom of the real fear, though.  I feel like I’m under pressure to beat the clock.  I usually take it easy on myself when it comes to personal growth.  I realize that you can not force awareness or growth in yourself just as you can not force a flower to blossom.  That being said, I feel that if I don’t overcome this fear before my surgery next Tuesday, that all will go horribly wrong.  I desperately need to find peace before going under the knife, but if the last several days are any indication, that may not happen.  Perhaps the answer is to allow the fear to be there and be okay with it.  After all, courage is not the absence of fear, it is the ability to take action despite one’s fears.  There can be no courage without fear.  While I’m at it, here are some quotes I found demonstrating that feeling fear is part of having courage.

Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. ~Ambrose Redmoon

Courage is doing what you’re afraid to do.  There can be no courage unless you’re scared.  ~Edward Vernon Rickenbacker

Courage can’t see around corners, but goes around them anyway.  ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic’s Notebook, 1960

Fear and courage are brothers.  ~Proverb

Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point.  ~C.S. Lewis

Courage is the power to let go of the familiar.  ~Raymond Lindquist

To live with fear and not be afraid is the final test of maturity.  ~Edward Weeks  (I’m still afraid, mind you.)

Courage is knowing what not to fear.  ~Plato

Optimism is the foundation of courage.  ~Nicholas Murray Butler

Courage is being scared to death… and saddling up anyway.  ~John Wayne

Courage is almost a contradiction in terms.  It means a strong desire to live taking the form of readiness to die.  ~G.K. Chesterton

Courage is never to let your actions be influenced by your fears.  ~Arthur Koestler

Courage is a kind of salvation.  ~Plato

You can’t test courage cautiously.  ~Anne Dillard

I believe that courage is the sum of strength and wisdom.  You take away wisdom from the equation – courage may turn to rage.  ~Dodinsky

Thanks to http://www.quotegarden.com – from where I stole these quotes.

 

 
 

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