One Year Later
Well here we are - - a little over one year later. 14 months to be exact. 14 months from diagnosis. 14 months of active treatment. 14 months of doctors appointments, specialists, consultations, prognoses. 14 months of action, then waiting; more action, then waiting. 14 months of loss, mourning, hope, disappointment, rediscovery, conviction. I feel like these 14 months have been the true marathon of my life thus far. The race that I didn’t enroll in, I didn’t plan, I certainly didn’t train for - yet here I am, nonetheless. I’m at the 23 mile mark and there is a little more than a 5k left for me to run.
Easy peasy, right?
I have run countless 5k’s in my lifetime.
Yet, here’s the thing - when you are running the marathon of your life, when you reach the 23 mile mark you are literally just trying to keep the wheels on the bus. You are fighting for dear life. Every ounce of you wants to give up but you keep going. You literally can’t feel your feet. They are numb from the pain, but you still fight for every step. THAT is the beautiful mess that makes up those final miles of the marathon journey. You do it - you keep fighting - because a marathon is all about pushing yourself to the limit. It’s about going ALL OUT with your body. Pushing it to the edge to see what it can do. It’s such a rush to finish a race like that - the feeling of accomplishment is like nothing else.
So yeah, while I have MAD respect for the marathoner - heck, I’ve crossed the finish line a few times myself so I get it - hunkering down and fighting for every last step is NOT the way that I want this race to end.
First of all - just to be clear - cancer is a race that never ends. There is no finish line - only check points. Even when you are given the ‘NED’ (No Evidence of Disease) prognosis, there is always the threat of it returning. To stick with the running analogy, it would be like finishing a marathon, only to find out that you were duped - you are really running an ultra marathon and still have another 25 miles to go! There is always this ‘shadow’ overhead. The threat of another marathon to run, or peak to climb. Every little ache, pain, or ailment you think, ‘OMG has the cancer come back? Has it spread to my spine, lung, brain, (fill in the blank)?’
There is also this understanding in the cancer community - that the REAL healing happens after active treatment is over. When active treatment is going down, it literally takes all of your time & energy so it’s very difficult to process through emotionally & mentally. Therefore, when active treatment is over, you literally look back to see a bit of a mess in the wake of your life. The REAL work happens at that point with putting the pieces back together mentally and emotionally. SO - even when chemo treatment is over, your hair is starting to grow back, and your skin is healing from the rads - you literally are a bit of a puddle on the floor. Yet the dilemma here is that you LOOK fine. You SEEM fine. Everyone EXPECTS you to be fine. I mean - you just friggen kicked cancer’s ASS, right? Yeah - but the thing is, you literally feel like cancer has chewed you up and spit you out.
Now - not everyone feels this way, but it seems like the general consensus have had this experience.
SO - let’s get back to the marathon analogy. I mentioned that the last 5k is literally all about keeping the wheels on the bus. Running your heart out. Giving EVERY ounce of energy to cross that finish line. I also mentioned that is NOT how I want to run this proverbial race that technically has no finish line. HERE is what I mean:
1) I don’t just want to ‘hunker down’ - I want to THRIVE. I want to feel good in my skin - body, mind and spirit. I vowed to myself that I would not push my feelings down. I would not ‘pull up my big girl panties’. I vowed to FEEL my feelings. To speak them. To feel them. To acknowledge them. To honor them, and give them the time and space they need. I am not great at this, but I’m getting better.
2) I don’t want to be an ‘all of nothing’ gal. Training for marathons is an all or nothing kind of thing. There is no happy medium. When you are in the thick of your training, you are either running all the miles or laying on the couch (or eating). It really is an all or nothing thing. I will not live my life that way any longer. I want to pace myself. I want to walk slow enough to ENJOY the conversation I’m having. I want to SEE the sights along the way. I don’t want to have to think about trying to fit my ‘long run’ in on a Saturday morning. I want to be SO in tune with my body that I know WHAT it needs, WHEN it needs it. Again, a work in progress here.
3) I don’t want to think about, acknowledge, or give any significance to the finish line. Here’s the thing: finish lines are dangerous. While yeah, they do signify a ‘milestone’ or meeting a goal, the danger is in giving them TOO much significance. Seeking accomplishment. Accolades. Finish lines can bring a bit of false entitlement. It’s a slippery slope and frankly, I’ve fallen into the ditch far to many times in my life. I want to be about being in the PRESENT moment. I want to enjoy the JOURNEY. I want to acknowledge the learning in the steps along the way. I don’t want to focus on the end result. I want to focus on the HERE & NOW. Yup - #workinprogress
So here I sit recovering from surgery in the reconstruction phase of my journey and am reflecting on the MANY things that I have learned along the way. While yes, I’m excited to almost be done with ‘active treatment’, I’m also very fully aware that my journey continues. While the hair is coming in nicely, and at some point in the near future, my scars will fade - I don’t just want this experience to be over. I want to be forever CHANGED by it. The old me would ‘hunkering down’. The forever changed me is learning how to be present, listen to her body, receive the love around her, and create the space to FEEL the influx of emotions that present themselves at any given moment.
Thanks for listening,