"Normal" for me always meant a reasonably healthy diet, an above average amount of daily exercise, good friends, good family, steady employment - you know, all the things that make up a "normal" life. Medicine, as it applied to me, meant multi-vitamins and an occasional aspirin.
Even after the initial shock, despair, tears - and all the other outward signs of disbelieve - started to settle down, there was still that thing called "normal" that I was trying to recreate in my life.
I think the first real sensation of "normal" returned to me about two weeks after my lumpectomy. My husband and I went out for a pizza lunch. Normal, right? You bet it was! I can still remember just how good that pizza tasted, how much more relaxed I felt in my mind and in my agitated stomach. It was a good moment. I believe we both felt a certain sigh of relief that day.
I mention this little story because I understand just how important it is to bring the everyday events and delights to the surface - and bring them quickly - after life gives you a good, hard kick in the gut. I was finished with surgery by then, but the radiation was still a few weeks away, to be followed by the Arimidex, the medication I would start for the next five years. I once read a doctor's comment on life on Arimidex as "Five years of low grade hell." (There are days when I agree with that statement).
There are many famous (and not so famous) quotes I life to reflect on in life. My brother once said his memory of events on went back ten minutes. What he meant was - There's not much value in hanging on to the past (even the recent past). Once it's done, it's rock solid and immovable. Move one - Forgive and/or forget - Let it go.
If your life has been disrupted by one of life's unwelcome oddities, I encourage you to find "normal" - if only for a brief lunch break - and suck in the joy of that moment. After all, "normal" is what makes you glad to be alive. Seek it out everywhere and every way you can. . .