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The last few weeks have felt very unsettling, since earnestly looking into having breast reconstructive surgery. So many unexpected feelings have erupted to the surface, and I have an overwhelming sense of anxiety.

The thought of being back in hospital, a necessary evil - oh so it feels. Up to this point, all surgery and treatment has been undertaken to save my life. I barely gave it a second thought...

I will do whatever it takes to mountain too high to climb, no ocean too vast to swim - if it meant I would not only survive, but thrive in a healthy life.

If I could click my fingers and magically get 2 new breasts I would, but this time this feels oh so different - but not wrong. Just another part of the process I wasn't many unfinished conversations in my head, and the vulnerable calm I felt for the last couple of months, gone. I'm back to feeling my old companion - uncertainty!

This time the dance with the aftermath of my diagnosis has plunged me into doubting every thought and decision I make, not just about the surgery. I was somewhat comfortable in making future plans and dreaming a little. I now find myself back in my cocoon of "let's just stick with the here and now, I don't want to jinx myself"...all too familiar merry-go-round.

Profoundly knowing that life is so uncertainty, and that our existence is immensely vulnerable, makes it very difficult to embark on life going forward. The steps I take are tentative and just when I felt somewhat confident, I find that the confidence is eluding me for again.

In a recent counselling session I was asked if I had contemplated engaging in a conversation with death...this would go someway to demystify it and erase some of the "power" it has over me. I found it an intriguing prospect; what would I say to death? How do I really feel about it?

Is this even about death or is it avoidance in connecting with intuition?

I hold my intuition dear and close to me. For years I avoided it like the plague, I knew I wouldn't like what it was telling me. Now, I listen intently, except when uncertainty waltzes in and takes it for one heck of a whirl...then I find myself unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Why am I so afraid to believe that all will be well? My intuition saved me before, why won't I honour and let it gently speak to me again?

In a week of doctors appointments, it'll be interesting to feel this whirlwind of emotions - will we sail confidently into port or arrive battered?

Until the next musings xxx

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