It's taken me an entire week to get past the news from the doctor. A week full of snippy remarks to friends and family. A week full of wanting to do nothing more than stay curled up in bed and not talk to anyone ever.
Yea, I was throwing a grown-up temper tantrum. I was pissed off. I was sad. I was angry at both myself for not doing better, and at my specialist for talking down to me. I was so unsure of what to do. I was scared and felt that no one understood just how terrifying it all was.
A week post-appointment, however, I am back in the gym. Today I went back with a vengeance. I was not going to let this beat me anymore. I wasn't told that I was going to die any time soon. These things are controllable. Why am I giving it all this power?
No more whining. Just moving and sweating and getting it done. Rawr!