A Thank You Note to My Recovery Journey

Today I lie down on the medical table covered with crinkly tissue paper. As the technician rolls the soft gel around my right breast, I look up at the blinking light on the ceiling – red…red…red. I stare at the worn mauve curtains accented with cream at the edges and wonder when they had been replaced last-perhaps a bright pink would create a more cheerful vibe.

I have dense breasts and two years ago I had the same ultrasound. I felt more worried then and was showered with relief after my results were clear.

A chill starts in my body even with the light towel placed gently on top of my chest.

“The doctor will be right in with the results. Just a few minutes,” the tech says.

I slow my breathing down.

OK, we can handle any results. I am a kick ass woman who is strong and brave and if I have cancer I will get through it. I have an amazing fiancé and supportive family. I got this. I am recovered from a chronic and enduring eating disorder, anxiety, depression, and have been sober eleven and half years. I have had my fair share of challenges, and this will be no different.

I continue to slow my breath down even more.

A woman, in a white lab coat and dark chocolate brown hair pulled back in a butterfly clip, walks in through the old curtain.

“You are all good. You just have dense breasts. No abnormalities. Come back next year.”

I sigh relief and immediately think how amazing this news is, especially since, well because we are talking about cancer, something which I have been through with my mother, father, and sister-in-law. Also, my wedding is in eighty-two days.

I often used to think about why I was so unlucky to get the eating disorder gene and how as a little girl I felt so sad and anxious, worrying over every little (they felt huge) thing. As I trudged through recovery from anorexia and compulsive exercise and then chose sobriety one day at a time, I practiced learning how to let go of worry and stay in the present moment.

And now that I have overcome these obstacles I have found meaning in my pain. I built a steadfast confidence within myself. I have learned tools to deal with unpleasant emotions. I have worked my ass off eliminating restricting and bingeing and purging from my life. I wake up each morning and know exactly what I did the night before. I contribute to others. I am less self-absorbed. I am not paralyzed by fear.

So, I guess in essence this is a thank you letter to my recovery journey.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Warmly, Meredith