It is with me. Always. I bump my elbow and scream out in pain.I have an incessant itch on a patch of skin.I feel tension in my lower back.I see more hair in my
Day 2, a perplexing waiting game…a holding pattern wrought with anxiety…an eerie moment in time where I was yet sheltered from the storm that was brewing, the swirling deep below the surface and the
Chemotherapy. Like any other word, will mean something different to each person. To the patient. The caregiver. The close family and friends. The distant ones. The doctors and nurses. The receptionists checking in the
I have found it interesting that even three years later, October 9 looms. I’ve been all-consumed with what the date has been for the last many days, even into the last few weeks. “Are
How is it that I can feel the most healthy I’ve ever felt in how I engage with life while at the same time feel the most unhealthy I’ve ever felt in how I
I feel small today. But that’s okay. This place matters, so I’ll listen. *Post 915 A Road Walked by Many :: 10/6/17 :: Post 39 I have gained some insight into myself this week….why
My process today is a bit ….. well …… I don’t know. Bear with me. I had a hair appointment today. I’m grateful for my Lindsey…she’s walked with me through my hair growing back
The hot pink of October, despite its well-meaning intentions, doesn’t tell the real story…so my body will: My body has been sluggish all day—The ratcheting of my pained joints. The heaviness of cancer-confused-now-menopausal pounds
I was out with some friends today, taking a lovely stroll around Estes Park, and one of them said something. [*Side bar – I don’t plan ahead for what I’m going to write about…instead,
A friend so lovingly encouraged me today. She said, “I’m actually thankful that you continue to process all that cancer diagnosis and treatment and survivorship has been for you instead of rushing through it.”