Needles and Overflowing Sinks

Yesterday I had a biopsy on a throat nodule. It was my second go around. The first time they didn’t grab enough cells to get a complete cancer rule-out. It’s a gnarly and invasive procedure where your neck is exposed as you are in the supine position. Then one at a time, five needles into the neck after numbing.

I walked out triggered and sore, holding ice against my neck.

I called my good friend, L, who kept me grounded as I drove home.

Then I walked into a completely flooded kitchen and two sinks full of brown water. I went manic. Just so you know, I have a bit of a cleanliness and organizational “thing.” I was picking up my soaking wet kitchen and hallway rugs from the hardwood floor. They were soaked with brown water, and I was doing all this with ice pressed to my neck.

Did I mention I had awakened at 5:00 am yesterday? A bit of sleep deprivation may have possibly affected my mood. That’s a hard maybe.

Whew, I finally sat down on the bed. I could not shower, since I had instructions to wait 24 hours so my neck doesn’t get wet. Got relaxed. Ready to rest. Should be okay till the plumber arrived the next day. Then a gurgling sound caught my ear. I ran into the kitchen to see gray silt bubbling up into the sinks, along with more water. I grabbed a bowl and began dipping. As fast as I could I dipped the water out and ran to the bathroom to toss it into the tub.


“Shut up your whining, woman. People live in pallet homes with no electricity or running water,” my mind responded.

My mind has a great way of invaliding myself when I’m in stress. It’s the echoes of a childhood abandoned, ignored and not allowed to express emotion. It tells me that my situation shouldn’t be stressful because others have it worse. This is such a crap response to stress.

Not now, mind. Shut it. My emotions are valid AF.

Today, I admit that I am grumpy, exhausted, and my neck feels like I was accosted. So, I’m dedicating this day to resting and… waiting on the plumber. Cheers.

Morning Papers” are inspired by Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way,” which advises to start each day dumping what may be ailing the mind.

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