Wow, it has been a good three months since my last update. There are many a moments when I thought I had a rant to post, a positive thought or just a note to touch base with those interested or wondering what the latest was but I never got around to it, or to put it plainly, was just too damn tired....
I just read back on some of my posts and especially the last one with its title 'Reflections of a Year' and although it was appropriate with it being the year end, I almost feel like this post should hold that title also. Reason being is that today is the one year anniversary of my hearing the words "You have Cancer". Wowza. A few of my close friends have asked me when I mentioned that "Does it feel like it was just yesterday that you were diagnosed or does it feel like an eternity away"? To that I can honestly answer: BOTH.
It feels like it was just yesterday that I was sitting in the waiting room with my father, husband, sisters. There's a paragraph in a book I am currently reading that made me think of that faithful day:
We leave the comfortable waiting room and walk through the white doors into an alternate
universe, a sterile world where the comfortable chairs and sofas give way to plastic and metal,
where the warm pine yields to polymers and laminates and steel, and where the lighting subtly
shifts from incandescent to fluorescent... [The end of your Life Book Club by Will Schawalbe]
It did have nice calming images on the walls, comfortable chairs and sofas, soft incandescent lighting, then hearing my name be called out, and then crossing the line from the comfortable environment to that sterile hallway that brought us to that cube room with its fluorescent lighting which seems to make the healthiest of people look old, tired and drawn in. When I just think back of that little square room, sitting with my dad and hubby, waiting for the doctor to enter the room, my heartbeat raises to the same rhythm that it did one year ago, April 8th, 2013, 9:30am. I remember clearly the quiet ride home, the shock. My mind was totally blank, yet so full with thought, fear, questions...
And then it also feels like it was an eternity away. Everything that has happened since that day seems also somewhat of a fog. Perhaps this fog you place yourself in is a type of survival mechanism so you don't dwell on the shock too much. Perhaps your mind has a way of trying to push trauma (emotional and physical) to a distant place to protect you and allow you to move forward. I've had countless medical appointments since that day. I've had scans, bloodwork, tests. I've had two surgeries since that day. I've struggled back through recovery. Some days were good, some not so good. I've watched ten seasons of Friends DVD's (thanks L.V. for the bedridden entertainment). I've hit some all-time emotional lows, I've put some strain and stress onto my all too supportive family. I've seen countless doctors still, and continue to struggle through some stuff that I hope I can move past but am also trying to accept I may never.
With that year, I am forever changed. Change is not always a bad thing but it can be quite difficult and take some time. I am writing this in hopes that I will eventually believe it. I have had so much change in my life, that I was hoping for some stability. But with now having to learn this new me, this me who has been put into a sudden menopause and the shock it has placed my body in, this new me who no matter how healthy a life style I live, will always fear the return of illness and cancer, this new me with different thoughts and emotions, a body that reacts differently to things that were so familiar to me before but also this new me who is determined to be a healthy and physically fit as my body and mind will allow it to be (Spartan Race, here I come).
So in simple terms if you are wondering how I am and have been these past three months? I am OK. Not great just good. Not bad but I've seen better. Sleep? It's been worse. I think having let go of some of the anger that came with this new found insomnia has helped. I am still frequently waking, tossing and turning but am trying to let go of that anger that came with every waking. We have removed the TV from our bedroom and can no longer look at the time on the cable box and see exactly how many more hours I have to toss and turn until the morning comes. The bedroom is no longer a 'family room'. It is purely a sleeping place (and well you know....). It is becoming a more serene place and much less family action-packed. I have stopped taking any sleeping aids, other than the very natural melatonin. Prescriptions were not doing what they needed to do and then created this zombie-like Adele for the remainder of the day. I did not like having my head in a fog throughout the day. The other question I get a lot is has my iron gone up? Nope. Not one bit. Not a tad. Frustrating you say? Yup. Still working with my dr. on this front. Hormonal replacement therapy? Still working on it. First one I was given, well my body just did not want to absorb it. I seemed to be doing better with the menopause symptoms but with my young age, my hormone levels need to be kept to a certain level to help protect my bones and my heart from disease to those organs. Physical remission from surgery? Awesome, all due to a fabulous trainer I have been seeing since October. She has worked with me in a slow and progressive way that was just perfect for me. She has understood where I was, understood the place I was coming from (both emotionally and physically) and knew my vision for where I wanted to be (Go Spartan AROO)....and she has gotten me there....and more. She is sort of an angel to me. I was the one who made the call to the fitness studio looking for a trainer, but with her calling me back instead of some of the other trainers there, well the match couldn't have been any better. She rocks and I will miss her as she moves on to her new life in Toronto with her partner and soon-to-be baby girl. (I'm gonna miss you L.N. more than you will know...)
So there you have it. My update. My progress. My frustrations. My emotions. My worries. They are there. It is ongoing. It will continue to be. Life. What an adventure it is. Both fabulous and worrisome at times. All that said, I am quite happy to be where I am. I am quite lucky to be where I am.
XOXO
