Letting Grief Show the Way

Today, I had my annual mammogram.

This was not an appointment that had me concerned. Just the routine check to make sure nothing was hiding that I could not feel on my own.

This year, however, felt different. Over the last five years of getting mammograms, scheduling an appointment was never an issue. I generally could go in the portal and request a date and time that easily fit my schedule at the nearest location to my home. This time, that was not the case. The local centers had no available appointments, which forced me to head to the Women’s Imaging center at the UPMC Community Osteopathic center in Harrisburg, PA.

It has been about 13 years since I have been in this building. Last time I was here, I was at the Hillman Cancer Center, meeting with oncology to determine the best course of action for me after being diagnosed with Stage 0 cervical cancer.

I knew I may feel some type of way coming back here, but I wasn’t ready for the emotions that hit me. The appointment itself went exactly as expected, same routine including having my moles stickered and my boobs manipulated and smashed in ways that make you question life.

After feeling like I was going to be bruised by the end of the day, I went into the changing room. I looked in the mirror and started to cry. Not because I was back in this building, not because my tits felt like they had been beaten like a punching bag, but because all I could think about is Carla.

I found myself questioning how I hade once been in these same walls, fighting to keep cervical cancer from growing worse. I questioned why I was still here and she was gone. Why my story went this way and hers did not.

Today was one of many days when something small hits me, and the reality that she is gone - how much I miss her - consumes the day. Later, while on a call, I found myself pulling out her prayer card, tearing up as I read it. That evening, I sat at dinner and told Justin that I completely lost my shit thinking about her while at the doctor’s office.

Why am I telling you this?

First, I want you to know it is okay to be sad. It is okay to feel the pain of loss. It is okay that grief takes time to recover from and that it can show up anywhere.

Secondly, I want you to know grief doesn’t just happen when we loss someone. We experience grief through any many kinds of loss, including when our expectations are not met, our goals are not achieved, or our own bodies fail us.

We will inevitably experience grief throughout our lives. It has taken me almost 50 years to realize that the most important thing I can do is acknowledge grief when it shows up, embrace it when it arrives, and even celebrate it. It may sound counterintuitive, but grief shows you what we love, what gives our lives meaning and purpose. What matters most. It deserves to be honored and used to guide us through whatever comes next.