The Week of Hell

Thank God last week is over, after I had to take Owen to all the nasty appointments. First, there was the ENT, and I had to hold Owen in a stranglehold so he could pull wax out of his ear, then there was the doctor's office so he could get the Hepatitis A shot (which, of course, gave him a fever for 24 hours and he was miserable), then we had to take him to get his blood drawn for his yearly tests, including the one I am mos tafraid to know about: leukemia. But, thankfully, my doctor found a clinic in Encino which only does babies and kids. They were great. I was so nervous about taking Owen, so I made Erik come with me, and they had the needle in and the blood drawn in less than a minute. I couldn't believe it. Here I was waiting for this awful, painful, long drawn-out procedure (because nobody in the past has been able to get a good blood draw from Owen), and these two guys just tied up his arm, got the needle in and got the blood out. I was so relieved. And the worst of it is over. Owen doesn't really have to go for anymore awful stuff, for now, at least.

I've been having a lot of anxiety again lately, and I can't seem to shake it. I feel as if I am going to die. It's not anybody else I'm worried about (last time when I had anxiety attacks I thought everyone else was going to die). This time, it's me. I had a dream the other night that I had breast cancer, and it was so real, that I woke up sweating. Then I think I started to get the idea that I have cancer (my name is Suzanne and I am a hypochondriac), and now, every little twinge again makes me think something is wrong. I don't know whether it's because I look at my two beautiful kids and I want to be with them all the time, and I want to be able to be there forever for them. I still keep feeling as if every moment I have with them is so bittersweet, as if there is going to be pain because I have such amazing kids. I feel as if I cannot possibly be this lucky without the other shoe dropping.

I know that logically, I can't just develop cancer overnight. But perhaps it is my way of anticipating that something bad is going to happen, so that when it's not as bad as I thought, I can feel relieved. It's really crazy thinking, I know, but I can't help it. I went through this anxiety-ridden time when I was weaning Owen, and now it seems to be happening again, only I am still completely breastfeeding Tess. I don't understand. But, I suppose I must just learn to put these fears away.

Happy 4th of July!