June 4, 2011
I write from home on Friday (the 3rd) at night. Aside from having a bat inside my home last night, all is calm here, with the exception of Tye chasing a scrap of an old dog toy around my office, begging me to play.
I have a story for you:
You know I’ve been going through some challenging medical things these days. I have had to make some very difficult decisions and there have been a string of them, piles of new information, a morass of possibilities, options, choices. These are serious decisions and there is an urgency about them. At times it has been overwhelming.
Recently my big sister called me and said that she just wanted to let me know that she and my middle sister were both very involved in my decisions and were not only fully supportive but that there would be times when they were going to get information and talk about it with each other and then not necessarily tell me – unless it was something I needed to know. They are not being controlling, but are trying to eliminate as much stress as possible. Heather has taken it upon herself, for instance, to intervene if I am not getting a fast enough response to a doctor’s office phone inquiry. And she has offered to manage the barrage of bills and insurance questions. I’ve been tired so this has been okay.
But, on the other hand, I also believe that there is value in taking charge of my own path and in making my own decisions and, well, in fighting my own battles. So I’ve let go of some things, but, as time goes on, I’m holding onto things too, and it feels good.
A couple of weeks ago, however, I was exhausted and was happy to have Heather make calls and go out for soup or screen visitors. But at one point, at the end of a day with a lot of difficult news, I decided to give myself a treat and pulled out an L.L. Bean catalog that had been sitting around for a good few weeks. There was a pair of madras shorts that I’d had my eye on, but had felt they were an unnecessary indulgence – something I did not NEED. The catalog page was folded, but I never picked up the phone to order them.
But that night, at the end of that hard day, I signed on to Google, went to the L.L. Bean website, and typed in the product code for the shorts. ACK! The red message flashed on my screen – SOLD OUT!
Clearly I had waited too long.
I picked up the phone and called the 1-800 number, reaching a customer service representative to whom I explained my plight (well, not all the medical stuff – just the part about wanting the shorts.) But nope, they were sold out and were not back ordered and that was that.
So much for a treat!
I waited for a bit and then, in a flash of inspiration, phoned directly to the main store in Freeport, asked for and got connected to the women’s clothing section, and – VOILA! talked to a person who walked to the shorts rack and found my size in those shorts and, five minutes later, I was hanging up my phone, knowing that my shorts, my consolation prize for medical trauma, were on their way to me.
I congratulated myself for sticking with something, for not getting someone else to fight my battles for me, for being clever enough to figure out a way to work around the system. GO ME!!
However, when they came, four anticipation-filled days later, they were…TOO BIG!
F*@K! (Okay, when you’ve gone through what I’ve gone through you can say that every once in a while.)
I sunk in resignation, crushed that my empowered self had failed. And those shorts had become such a symbol to me. How could I have let myself get so sucked in? Not feeling up to wading through the calls and the search again, I decided to let Heather make the follow up calls. I decided to let her fight this one for me. I decided to give in.
But…
After a quarter of an hour of sulking and discouraged bashing of myself, I picked myself up off the couch, took a deep breath, and called the L.L. Bean store again. I got the women’s department again, told the sales clerk about the shorts – again. She went and looked – again – and came back with the bad news that they did not have a smaller size.
BUT!
They DID, she told me, now have them in the catalog. She PROMISED! A MIRACLE!!! (I made sure to take her name in case she was wrong but I did not need to use it.)
I quickly signed onto my computer, got to the website, typed in the catalog number, found my size (the right size) and, without any hesitation, ordered them!!!
Earlier this week I went to Chapel Hill to get a 2nd opinion on what I should do for follow-up treatment. I met and really liked the doctor and I am now on track to start doing what I need to do. I fully believe this will all work out and that, though it will be uncomfortable for some time, I’ll get through and it’ll be okay.
Oh – I wore my new shorts to Chapel Hill. Feeling very snazzy and very, very capable. Sweet. (Here’s a snap of me and my Don’t-Mess-with-Me Madras.)
Ha!
I’ll be in touch next week.
