adjective (emptier, emptiest)
- containing nothing; not filled or occupied,without contents,void, emptied
- Mathematics (of a set) containing no members or elements
- (of words or a gesture) lacking meaning or sincerity
- having no value or purpose
verb (empties, emptying, emptied)
- [with object] remove all the
contents of (a container) - [no object] (of a place) be vacated by people in it
noun (plural empties)
- [informal] a
bottle or glass left empty of its contents
Origin
Old English ǣmtig, ǣmetig 'at leisure, empty', from ǣmetta 'leisure', perhaps from ā'no, not' + mōt 'meeting' (see moot).
http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/empty
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The idea to locate, choose, and place those stickers was less idea and more something I knew I needed to do. When I'd read The Hidden Messages in Water and looked at the microscopic photos of water given positive messages versus those given negative messages, I was amazed. There was order and balance in the geometric arrangement of water exposed to PEACE or TRUST or LOVE or HOPE. Haphazard, unbalanced, disordered arrangements presented in the samples exposed to negativity. In the body given and unbalanced with cancer, negativity needed to be flushed from my system. Gentleness, caring, and acceptance needed to take over.
This past Monday, I had an appointment at the oncologist's. I met with the physician's assistant, despite repeatedly requesting the doctor and being assigned to the doctor each time they rescheduled me. Much of the appointment was expected. There was the waiting and the bloodwork (though not with my favorite tech, hence the bruise on the inside of my forearm) and more waiting and the obligatory step up onto the scale-- the scale on which I always adjust the weight in an effort to save the poor nurse from trying to appear polite by setting the slide SIGNIFICANTLY below where it's obvious my weight lands. There was the battle with the blood pressure cuff on my fat upper arms-- upper arms that have always been very, very sensitive (pushing a single finger tip onto the skin leaves a spot that hurts immediately and lasts for what could be an hour or more). Of course, there was also a check in on any medications I was taking, a check of my temperature, and the "Are you in any pain today?" question. As always, the answer was no.
This is about where the regularity of the appointment fell away. The PA reviewed the bloodwork. Each number produces in a list fed to the computer screen minutes after blood is taken. All of the numbers are in black unless they are out of range, in which case the number turns red, as at negative number might on an excel spreadsheet. I had a screen full of black, with one red-- the white blood cells.
"Promise me you won't worry about this? I won't-- I'm not worried" she mentioned as she scheduled me to come back in a month to have another set of labs drawn. "In the middle of the winter, it's likely you are trying to fight something off. Do you feel OK? Sore throat, runny rose, urinary tract infection, a sense that you are trying to fight off anything?"
I never know how to answer when I'm asked how I feel, particularly when it refers to physical things-- I simply don't know, 9.9 (if not 10) out of 10 times. All I could offer as an explanation was some post-nasal drip which wasn't bothering me.
"How about your energy level? Are you tired?"
"I'm always tired. I haven't slept wonderfully, as of late. It's rare that I do sleep well. But I also stopped taking the thyroid meds about a year ago when I didn't like how they made me feel, so it could be that the tired is related to the non-functioning thyroid too."
"That could be why you're gaining weight? How did the thyroid meds make you feel?"
And I couldn't recall...at all...but I felt fairly certain I could, but didn't, confirm that the thyroid issue had nothing to do with the weight gain.
"What about depression? Anxiety?"
"Yes-- but they've always been an issue."
She looked at me with a look of pity before asking "Has this been going on for awhile?"
Of course it had. I'd told her they'd "always been an issue" and I'd meant it.
"Would you say for a few months?"
"No-- forever. I don't really remember a time when it wasn't an issue for me." After which, I knew to anticipate the next question emerging with that continuing look of pity...
"Have you thought of hurting yourself?"
"No." And unlike the confusion over what exactly "always" meant, there was no questioning of this "No."
She moved on to looking at my throat, listening to my lungs, heart, and checking my ears. She reminded me again not to worry about the bloodwork and that one other time post-treatment, my white cells had actually been a bit higher and I'd not been told. She showed me back out to the scheduling area, I made the appointment, and headed out of the office.
I wasn't as worried as I'd expected I'd be leading into the appointment or even leaving the appointment. I haven't been as pervasively worried over the results as I once was. When my neck burns or my head starts swirling with negativity in all of its ugly forms, I worry. Anything that reminds my physical or emotional self of how I felt with cancer--feelings I was only able to tie to cancer after they told me I had cancer--raise the worry flag. I can't, however, tell if I'm really feeling these things or if worry makes them. I don't understand how to tell what I really feel.
On February 5th, I'll mark four years out of treatment. Twelve days later, I'll go back to the office for another round of bloodwork, with the hope that a single red number will turn black, in some way reassuring me that I have a chance to make it to the five year mark next February. I'm not as worried as I think I should be. And that both worries me and comforts me.
I've mentioned before that I functioned much better while actively battling cancer than after I was released from treatment. The empty other side, the side not patterned with the regularity of appointments and results, is a challenge. Most people, I think, try to fill what's empty because without filling or refilling, the empty whatever can't function. We all know this. And so, when the depression and anxiety hang in empty spaces, I fight to motivate myself to find and use something to fill my empty self and often, that's internalized, self-directed negativity...and food. When the depression eases some and the anxiety manifests only at specific times of day, I'm much more able to fill empty with writing or painting or creating. I have to feel full enough to create something that comes out of me-- running on 'E' doesn't leave enough for the beauty of just the right word or the perfect material.
So maybe the right word needs to be chosen and stuck to me each day just as each week the right word is chosen for this blog. Maybe wearing PEACE or TRUST or LOVE or HOPE will change the quality AND quantity of what runs through me. Perhaps with those messages, I'll fill differently...in such a way that I rarely get as close to 'E' as I normally do.
