2022’s Wild Ride: Lessons I’ve Learned These Past Few Months
Life is weird. You can try and guess the next thing that’s going to happen, but you truly never know.
From cancer to new experiences, I literally couldn’t predict these last two and a half months of my life. I can describe it in three words though: confusing and chaotic.
Don’t worry, cancer update will be here soon; just know I am the same quirky Abbey—but with a gash across my throat. Sounds attractive, right?
Moral of the story: I’ve grown a lot recently. So, here are a few tidbits of knowledge I’ve picked up along the way.
I can kick cancer’s butt while earning my college degree.
I really did have an invasive, three-hour long surgery at the start of the semester. Want to know something? I have no late work nor am I playing catch up. We’re back on track; this path just has a few cancer-related pit stops along the way. Catch me getting an Icee at each one.
I’m slowly getting better at letting new people in.
Last year, I wasn’t able to connect with anyone new. I always had my walls up, and I never let anyone get too close. These past few months, I proved to myself that I could actually let someone in. I gave it a chance, and I’m proud of myself. Was I terrified? Obviously, but I didn’t leave. I’d say that’s some of the biggest progress I’ve made in years.
Controlling every situation and outcome is impossible.
Y’all know me… I used to never welcome situations I knew I couldn’t control. This time around, I tried my best to go with the flow. Did I freak out and shut down along the way? You betcha, but I’m really learning that the only thing I can truly control is myself and my perspective.
Honestly, the unknown is what makes life so fun. If I knew the outcome of every single situation, where’s the joy and excitement? Life is full of surprises, and you never know who or what is coming into your life. Things can change in an instant.
I have a strong hatred for milk.
If you’re on my Snapchat, I know you saw my endless complaints about milk after surgery. If not, I’m about to give you one of my hottest takes: drinking milk is disgusting. If I see someone with a glass of milk, I will vomit. Something inside me can’t handle it. I’ve cried over this before, and no, I’m not being dramatic. It’s gross.
Now, some of you may be thinking, “Abbey, how is this a point? What made you realize this?” WELL, LET ME TELL YOU. Because I had my thyroid completely removed, this affected the function of my parathyroid glands. These glands control something very important: calcium regulation. So, for the first few weeks, I was on calcium pills and drinking milk. It was chocolate milk, okay. I’m not a serial killer. Even then, I hated every second of it.
I’m still locked up in calcium prison, but I’m not having to drink milk anymore (thank goodness). My parathyroid glands are slowly starting to kick back in again, and I see the finish line right in front of me.
When things end, I know I’ll be okay.
Things or relationships ending used to be my biggest fear. I would stay in something for way too long because I hate confrontation. Any type of “talk” freaks me out, but I’ve actually been having them—not running away. Does it take me a while to get the words out? Yes, but I’m still doing it. I’m slowly learning how to communicate my thoughts and feelings.
After something ends, I found out I can healthily process it. That is HUGE for me. In high school, I would spiral into a depressive episode that could last anywhere from days to months at a time. That didn’t happen this time. It did hurt, but I’m slowly getting out of the rut. All I have to say is that this is proof therapy is working. I’m getting better.
I’m stronger than I thought.
My life is anything but easy. I’m used to doctors, surgery and disappointment. Bad news doesn’t faze me, but these last few months have been some of the hardest so far.
I don’t think I could’ve done it without my friends and family. My support system is unmatched. My friends are truly some of the best people, and I’m grateful that they’ve stuck with me through everything.
I’m not completely in the clear, but I know this situation isn’t permanent. Even in the scariest times you can see positives shine through; you may just need to look closer. Keep pushing. You got this.
Sincerely, Abbey