Scared? No? Yeah, I didn’t think so. There is nothing scarier than being told something is wrong when it comes to your health, is there? Now, that is scary.

I have been on that roller coaster for the last three months (many posts were written, edited and scheduled ahead of time). Going to all the follow-up tests and doctor appointments left me without words. Writing was raw, emotional at times, and not for public reading.

Shock, anger, disappointment, frustration. For now there is a “white coat syndrome” when it comes to getting my blood pressure taken.  I had an emotional melt down in front of the nice lady that handles records transfers, it was embarrassing. (Thank you to my husband who calmly took the forms from me and filled them out.)

Let me say quickly, thankfully there is nothing seriously wrong. I am fine. The worst medical diagnosis thus far has been Horner’s Syndrome and a common meningioma that will be watched.

There are other discoveries, the more important ones:

  • Personally, my awareness of how people view me and my dream of writing came in focus.
  • That it doesn’t matter who believes I am a joke, they will never see me for who I am —their loss.
  • However long it takes to finish a project is . . .  how long it takes. If I die with work to do, that’s awesome! It means my children, grandchildren and decedents will have an albeit distant way of getting to know me and my imagination.
  • Maybe my ultimate purpose is to inspire my progeny – I can be proud of that and them. Go my offsprings!
  • I am happy. Storytelling, writing is my thing. I accepted this a long time ago, including that I was a bad writer – that didn’t stop me.
  • Studying, reading and hopefully improving along the way, so why would I stop now?

There have been ‘what if’ discussions between me and mine. I even considered blogging the entire  process. This reminds me of one of the best scenes of parental loss I ever saw (Grey’s Anatomy – Christine and George talking about the “DEAD DADS CLUB” and “You aren’t in it ’til your in it” – not a membership that is eagerly sought out). Dealing with a health concern or crisis is tough.  I don’t want to insult or be little any one else’s process. So while I won’t say I will never ever write about it, now is not the right time, maybe someday, in some way.

The end result of the last few months as a writer is this – CONFIDENCE.  This writing thing, it is what I was meant to do. How I have been attempting in recent years has been all wrong for me. Definitely something fixable, and this is the beginning of that course correction.

Books read, lectures attended, conference, workshops, college, you name it, squeezing myself into format and form while fighting with every fiber of my being (ask one of my instructors).  It just isn’t me.  So, where does that leave me?

Back to the beginning, going about it in a more organic fashion.  Using methods of old, and considering whether it it is stretching to grow as a writer, or is just a futile effort into being someone else entirely. Come on! This is my jam!