come down from the mountain, you have been gone too long

Today was my first day of clinical (orientation at least) on 10 Kellogg for my medical surgical rotation.  10 K is my ol' stompin' ground.  I had 2 out of my four rounds of chemo there and spent over 4 months living in room 1012 (split up over a few times, thankfully).  I have been back there as much as I could over the past 5-6 years, bringing goody bags to patients, bringing up old books and magazines for them to read, visiting the social worker and nurses...but it was all on my own time and I always had an out.  I could leave whenever I wanted to.
Today was different.  We sat in the family room for clinical orientation and listened to our very very nice, super smart and lovely clinical instructor tell us what is in store for the next few months.  I sat there, sleepy eyed, a bit bored while my hippocampus recalled memory after memory of this place, like slides across a projector screen.  Days of emailing Mindy back and forth talking about my and Nick's progress, me standing with my IV pole in the corner of the hallway crying on my cellphone as I was broken up with during my last round of chemo (true story, ladies), my mom and I having pizza parties with fellow patients/families and actually having a 'good' time during my stay there, watching American Idol with the patient care tech, making cards and scrapbooking at my over the bed table....it was like memories I had nearly tucked away for good came rushing back because of my idle brain just sitting there in..that. space.  But, bad memories came back too...memories of nausea like no other, pain, fear, heartache, impatience...feeling attacked by your own cells.
We went into a patient room to 'acquaint' ourselves. Needless to say, I could have been the hostess with the most-ess in that joint and led a tour with my eyes closed.  Nine of us squeezed into a little room and I happened to get stuck at the head of the bed.  As I checked out the bedside equipment, I got a terribly familiar whiff of crisp, clean, cold hospital blanket up my nose.  The smell of that blanket brought me right back there.  I suppose scent truly does unlock the door to memories.  Anyway, I thought I was doing fine, I'm all familiar with everything and as we were walking off the unit to lunch I felt it.  Yup. The cry feeling coming up in my throat.  WHAT? Where was this coming from?  Gwen looked at me and knew I was off so I high tailed it to the bathroom so I could squirt a few little tears in peace.  I closed the door, took a few deep breaths, and said one of my new fave mantras that I stole from Christina Applegate  "I am a miracle of health.  I am a miracle of health."  And, then I went on with my day with a smile on my face.  I will not let this defeat me.  I will not roll over and run away and I easily could have asked to be switched to a different floor so I didn't have to face the music.  (I will spend over 18 hours each week for the next 8 weeks there....)  I decided that I am up for the challenge.  So what, I cried the first day....I am ready to take this on, and approach my patients with a sense of understanding.  I have the bittersweet gift if you will of knowing what it feels like to be in their shoes.  I hope it helps them.  I think it will help make this experience that much more worthwhile.  So, that's that.  I am taking the high road and want to whoop it up this clinical and help as many patients as I can and gain confidence in managing patient care independently.  I can't guarantee a 100% tear free rotation, but I'll do my best.  I was surprised that 6 years later, I am still having this visceral of a reaction.  I think it may be the timing though...my cancerversary just passed, it is a weird time of year I suppose for me.. But,  I am lucky to have some great girlfriends in my group this quarter.  I wouldn't make it through (or have nearly as much fun) without them. :)

Here's to facing your fears and walking away with a spring in your step feeling lighter and stronger each day.