Fear Is a Liar

Fear.Is.A.Liar.    It is 100% true. What would we do in this life if our fear did not lie to us and tell us we couldn't do it?  What would we believe possible if our fear did not lie to us and tell us we are not good enough?

This is the title of one of my favorite songs by an artist named Zach Williams.  I have listened to the song over and over again lately as I try to face a fearful situation.  I recently learned of some difficult news. On the whole, I know it could be much worse, but nonetheless it's still a little scary.  And the emotions it has brought up in me are the hardest part of this whole experience so far.  You see, I have Stage 0 breast cancer. At least that's what I've been told.  A few calcifications that haven't even formed into a mass or lump yet.  Just some cancerous cells that need to be removed. Only I think the biopsy gave them the impetus to form now.  The troops seem to have rallied and joined forces to make this crazy hard knot just above the bruise from the biopsy.

Just over nine years ago, I had to have surgery to remove a teratoma from my left ovary. Well,  it was so big and so invasive that they had to remove the ovary to get it.  While discussing my medical history with my current surgeon, she asked if I had any treatment for the teratoma after it was removed. That was the first time anyone mentioned the possibility it could have been cancerous.  The cyst was removed, but only after did I hear the word "Teratoma."  What the heck?  

In 2011, I had a two week recovery time as my laparoscopy turned into a laparotomy.  You see, I know am obese, but I never realized it was so bad that the instruments could not reach and they had to open me up. I was so humiliated.  Not only was I unhealthy and a burden because people had to help me post surgery, I was also so fat that the surgery was more invasive.   Oh, and because of my fat rolls, I developed cellulitis.  Why? Because I wasn't getting myself clean enough and moisture was staying near my incision site and it became infected so I had cellulitis and had to go into the hospital for IV antibiotic treatment for almost two days.  Right before Christmas. Convenient right?  Not really. It was a disaster.  My boss was furious at me. He thought I planned it out. Oh of course I planned to have an infection and possibly face spending Christmas in the hospital. Give me a break!  Then I found out I was the laughing stock of the Christmas party because in the office's white elephant gift exchange, he found a toy pig that oinked and every time someone said my name, he made that damn pig oink.  I was so ashamed. I just wanted to die.  I really did.

Tonight when "Fear is a Liar" came on the radio,  the lyrics hit a raw nerve and blindsided me. I ugly cried, pulled over into a parking lot and ugly cried until there were no more tears. I am sure they will come again, but for now I am dry. 

My diagnosis of Stage 0 breast cancer began just before Thanksgiving. The plans were put in place shortly after Thanksgiving.  The biopsy was December 10.  News given to me December 12.  Follow up appointment and confirmation of cancer December 16.   Yes, I get to go on family vacation. I get to have my 50th birthday cruise and I am supposed to not worry about it and just enjoy life. Only, all I can think about is that when I come back I will have to get ready to plan surgery and treatment.  All after a holiday. Only this time, I did tell my family and I will have their support.  That's incredibly relieving.

You see, Fear is a Liar.  Fear also has a face and name.  It has a persona for me.   The song talks about all of the things Fear tells us.  We are not good enough. We are not right. We aren't strong enough to put up a fight, not worthy, not loved, not beautiful. It tells us we are worthless, dirty, troubled, shameful.   And we hear it and it sinks in and it infects our emotions, our heart, our soul, our drive. We leave it to fester there and we don't reach enough to get it cleaned up and cleaned out.   Fear wears a bow tie. Fear laughs in your face.  Fear emails his friends and says it would have been easier if you had just died in surgery. Fear plays an oinking pig and humiliates you.  Fear has a name. It's name is the same as my old boss, and it lives in my head and steals my joy and humiliates me over and over again.

But FEAR is a liar. A great big liar.  I am worthy, fight ready, fierce, lovable, not dirty, not shameful.  I am living with the song and reminder that Fear is a liar.  That my fear will meet the God I know. That I will fight on. That a fighting spirit lives inside my heart and soul and nothing will steal my joy.

I may have to kick fear out over and over again. But last night he took up residence and it was super hard to evict him again.  But out he went and out he will stay.