I noticed the tiny lump last Friday as I undressed and got ready for bed, a small rise on my right side just above the top rib. My fingers gently but urgently palpitated the heart-sinking intruder, the little anomaly that I knew would make my mind whirr well into the night.
Yes, it was real. No, there wasn’t a matching one on the other side.
Shit. Not now.
Things are going so well. I’m happy. I feel grounded and good about my relationships with my kids. I have a new lovely person in my life…
No deep sleep for me that night. My mind desperately searched to connect dots that made this all OK. The search rendered one big dot that would make it OK — this lump is not cancer — and a constellation of other dots that would make this a nightmare: inability to care for my kids, weak health insurance coverage, financial struggle, horrible sickness, shortened lifespan, and the one that the others all piggybacked on … dealing with this alone.
I have no family in the area and neither does my ex-husband. There is no backup team.
As a divorced introverted woman, I had thoroughly entertained all of the fears and worst case scenarios that could arise when living without the protection and security of a partner, and then for sanity-preservation, tucked them away and carried on.
Moving out of my house and mothering three kids on my own was going to be a challenge. The thought of dealing with the physical and emotional toll of a serious illness took my breath away.
Calming the Introverted Mind
I told approximately four people about my scary lump and moved forward with my life. Nothing outwardly changed. My schedule didn’t lighten up. My kids didn’t need me less. Inwardly, my mind ricocheted off its walls, using LOTS of mental energy . My introvert engine was firing on all cylinders. The drain was unstoppable but awareness of it helped. I
recognized the fuzzy headed feeling and knew I had to recharge. I had to let the thoughts settle into long-term memory instead of buzzing feverishly in my immediate grasp. I had to reduce the stimulation. I had to let go. Interestingly, I began to sleep better. It was as if my body/spirit knew it couldn’t survive if the crazy-making sleeplessness persisted.
I know action dissolves fear so first thing Monday morning I called for a doctor’s appointment. We can get you in on Wednesday. Wednesday? Not bad, only two more days of unknowingness.
Sometimes It Feels Bad to Be Unattached When Others Are Attached
On Tuesday night we attended my son’s choir concert. When I say we, I mean myself, my son, daughter, ex-husband Jeff and Jeff’s girlfriend. This was the first school function that my ex-husband’s girlfriend and I attended together. I knew she would be there. Jeff had thoughtfully texted the night before to make sure I was cool with it. It was absolutely fine but I learned I don’t always want to be the unattached parent. I felt a tickle of insecurity. I was happy my children sat on either side of me. My ego squawked as I imagined thinly veiled looks of understanding and pity? from other currently married parents. Even though I’ve embraced the fact that another woman appreciates what I didn’t, I still felt a bit like the spinster aunt at a family reunion.
My introspective heart feeds on a stalwart love of intermittent solitude and a vigilant pursuit of personal freedom but not everyone gets that. It’s hard to go against the grain sometimes. It’s hard to be unpaired or ungrouped.
Sadness brings you eye to eye with your desires. ~ Danielle Laporte
Wednesday arrived at last. My doctor’s appointment was at 1:10PM. The day dragged in a fog of tepid loneliness. The kids were off to school. My current squeeze had a full work day to attend to. I didn’t want to involve my parents yet. I distracted myself with minor household tasks and a phone call to a close friend but…
I wanted my kids by my side. I wanted my guy to call. I wanted my parents to hug me and tell me it was going to be all right. I wanted to laugh with my girlfriends.
I didn’t want to be alone.
I allowed myself to indulge in the poignant Googling of such phrases as: small mass on right side, lump outside of breast tissue, and pumpkin seed sized lump near under arm. I emailed my gynecologist to see if she was the appropriate person to diagnose this thing. No, because it was outside the breast tissue she recommended a dermatologist. Perfect. That’s who I had contacted initially anyway.
Later, I sat with an inexplicable calm in the doctor’s exam room. The dermatologist breezed in, said her hellos, and got down to the point of my visit. She asked all the same questions I’d seen online and heard from my gynecologist — Does it hurt? Is it hard? Is it red? Does it move around? No, no, no, yes.
Then the crucial moment. Her fingers probed the soft, pale skin on my right side. She found the bump where my body has gone awry. She let out a quizzical, Oh?. My heartrate jumped. Then she simply said, It feels like an inflamed lymph node. Our body does that all the time. I’m not worried about it at all. It’s not cancer. Keep an eye on it. If the size changes or there is pain or a pulling on the skin, see a primary care physician.
331 Club
Hallelujah.
That afternoon I was more intentional with my time with my kids. I listened with my eyes and ears. That evening I had the best date watching a friend’s band play at a hole-in-the-wall bar. I met new people. I engaged in life affirming interactions. I reveled in the socializing and connecting.
Dear introverts please tell me of times when you didn’t want to be alone. How did you handle it?
If you liked Introvert Relationships: We Don’t Always Want To Be Alone, then you may also enjoy:
Introvert Relationships: Love Me or Leave Me but Please Don’t Need Me (Too Much) -space2live
Introverts Explained: Why We Love You But Need to Get Away From You – space2live
Introverts Are Not Misanthropes: We Love Specifically, Individually and Deeply – space2live
First Year on My Own: Divorced, Dating, Parenting, Me – space2live
This is my story. Five years ago I left my son’s father. Six months I later found a lump. Then followed a year of the full raft of treatment.. surgeries, chemo, radiotherapy, and now medication. Having no-one to hold me just to, perhaps, lie, and say it was all going to be okay, meant this was one of the second worst times of my life. The second was losing my sister to a brain tumour a year ago, and not having anyone to even talk to about it beyond my therapist–that has been the hardest time of being an introvert alone. Most times, I’m very happy that I’m alone, part from my son. But those awful times in our human lives that we all have eventually in one way or another, we learn that we really do need other humans to get through, emotionally and psychologically. The funny thing reading this today is the timing. I just shared a sonnet I wrote on this theme on my own blog today.
I like this, your space 🙂
Wow, you have been through the wringer – solo. I empathize with the scary aloneness you must have experienced during both gut-wrenching situations. I’m sure you learned what you are made of. It’s amazing what we can survive when there are no other choices.
Like you, I still like to be alone a good amount of time but having close loving connections helps me expand and survive the hardships. Perhaps this scare was a lesson in interdependence for me.:)
I hope that you are healthy physically and emotionally. I’m sure you have grown in many facets due to your trials. I will scoot over to your blog now to check out your sonnet. Pleasure to connect with you.:)
I think, whether we are partnered or not, we all feel that aloneness when we are diagnosed with a life-threatening disease, or when we lose somebody we love. The hard thing is conveying the ‘utterness’ of it to people who do have a partner by their side. I remember one woman saying “sometimes it’s worse, having a partner”. I could understand why, but she just didn’t understand the concept of just HOW scary and bad it is doing it solo.
I’m healthy phsyically, I’m getting there emotionally 🙂 Everything we go through is a lesson, at least I believe that. Some I would rather not have to learn, I guess, but, even if it seems a cliche, we do become better, wiser, and more compassionate people through it.
I am amazed by your courage in writing this. And I am so happy for you. I am married to someone who felt the lump and discovered it was cancer and lost a part of her body and is no less a woman. Either way, it’s OK.
You’re a lovely supportive husband Doug. I trust that your wife was left cancer-free and beautiful on the inside and outside (as she no doubt was to begin with). Thank you for sharing your experience with the dreaded lump.
The drain was unstoppable but awareness of it helped.
Thank you for your writing and insights into the ‘universalness’ of your personal experience. Amazing x
It’s what I know. If my words resonate with any universality I’m thrilled.;) Thanks for your kind comment. Good to see your name again Dominique.;)
I had a similar experience with a blood clot on my foot, and having to take myself to ER on my own. ‘Who is your next of kin?’, they asked. Good question. Scary answer. There is none, at least none as a life partner is to one. It Brought me to the reality of what aloneness really means.
Ooh I cried in my gynecologist’s exam room the first time after my divorce I had to put an emergency contact down. I wasn’t sure who to put. My doc was awesome and asked me if I had a good support system. Luckily, I have an amazing circle of friends.
Sickness or pain put us right back to being a vulnerable child. It is scary when there is no one watching over us. I can totally relate to your experience. Thanks for sharing Elizabeth.
There was a time when I was really sick, terrible headache, nauseated, weak & lightheaded. Felt like i may pass out. Not sure what was wrong. My only son was 2 hours away, but he’s a paramedic. My only choice was to call him. He talked to me and calmed me, but the fact remained that I was alone. There was no one here with me. No one else had a key to get in my house to help me & I was on the 3rd floor. I was scared, but my son did figure out my problem over the phone. I was terribly dehydrated. I greatful I could call him.
Sickness makes us really vulnerable. I am so glad your son was able to help you over the phone. So many people live away from their families now. So many people live alone. Those times when you truly need help are scary if there is no one to call on. I know. I’ve been there.
I hope you have befriended a neighbor or co-worker since then. It’s just nice to have someone to rely on when you can’t help yourself.
Thanks for sharing your experience.
The most difficult situation I had to adapt to alone was moving out of state. My husband had left me a year prior, my current position was dissolving, but I could take a (better?) position at the corporate office in Arizona. My introversion made it difficult to find the right place to live, get help moving and ultimately settle in a new city. I’m 8 months in, and it’s still a struggle. I make baby steps to get involved with coworkers, but inevitably, I’m an introvert in an extrovert world. Some days I would just want the comfort of a familiar grocers face. Everything in my life changed, and I missed having the solid foundation of a life partner.
I’m in an ongoing learning process that home is where I am.
Good luck with making it in your new world. Since my husband left me, I have been clinging onto my ‘old world’ and now feel it is preventing me moving forward. I like your notion that ‘home’ is you. Thanks.
I completely understand the desire for a familiar grocer’s face. I love my people in my frequented places – grocery store, hair salon, doctor’s office. Are there any introverts in your new office? I am much better at making new friends one at a time. It also helps to meet one person who is a connector. They can introduce you to others. Hang out in places where you feel comfortable and hopefully other like-minded souls will show up.:)
You are brave to be starting anew in unfamiliar territory. Give yourself credit for making such a dramatic change. I’m about to face a move on my own. Although I am staying in the same area I am still nervous about the actual physical move and setting up of a household by myself. It seems so daunting.
Thanks for sharing your story. I can definitely relate.