Yesterday…
Was a beast of a day…and I just couldn’t get it together enough to write last night. After a long day coaching and cheering on my kiddos, lugging around a walking boot that weighs as much as an elephant and having to finish up some work after getting home waaaaaaay past my bedtime, I just couldn’t.
Just below my thoughts for today will be the posts from 2/20/18, 2/20/19 and 2/21/18 and 2/21/19 (I didn’t post either day in 2020).
Today…
I’m recognizing a deep sadness in myself. I feel on the verge of tears and I’m not totally sure why. Maybe it’s simply related to the exhaustion of all of my yeses hitting at once despite my efforts to avoid such a situation knowing how compromised my capacity is now. Maybe it’s the emotional wear-and-tear of having to do everything with less than what I wish to because what once was 100 (maybe even 110) is now, at best and on a good day, 80 (and that might even be stretching it). Maybe it’s anger and frustration that for the last three weeks of my kiddo’s club season I’m in a walking boot and can’t play with her again…the little taste of ‘heaven’ in the singular volleyball practice, is just that. Singular. Maybe it’s the memories. Maybe it’s the masks. Maybe it’s the weird world we’re living in. Maybe it’s the dreadful heartburn, upset stomach, volcanic hot flashes, bloody noses, watery eyes, severe scar pain, weak bones and arthritic joints that I now live with 24/7. Maybe it’s the uncertainties of survivorship.
Maybe it’s all of these things.
Or maybe it’s none of these things.
Today’s quote is a reflection of what I live out: “When it hurts – observe.” (Anita Krizzan) I love the word ‘observe’ here. To observe – To absorb. To pay attention. To watch with anticipation. When you observe something, you ‘tune in’ and focus on the details of whatever it is you’re observing. “Observe. [ uhb-zurv ] Verb. To watch, view or note for a special purpose.”
I think so often we give in to our instincts to run or hide from the things that hurt…I mean, our most basic brain function is to do exactly this, right? But what if we didn’t give in? What if we stayed in it and observed instead. Or maybe we are constantly hearing the pressure to immediately overcome struggles and hurts, to not let them define us, to have unchallenged faith, to automatically see them as some stepping stone to some victory down the road. But what if we didn’t buckle under that pressure and sugarcoat with pseudo-strength? What if we chose to let struggle and hurt show us something.
This quote looks those clichés straight in the eyes and calls them out for being too shallow. So, in my sadness today, in the rest-of-my-life hurts of cancer, I’ll choose to sit IN them, to observe, to watch and note for a special purpose.
*Post 1056
Practice Will Make Perfect. I Hope. :: 2/20/18 :: Post 171
I’m so emotional tonight. I easily cry….
I’m not feeling great. I’m beyond tired. My body is exhausted. And I’ve got a little bit of “why me, why this” going on tonight.
Also…my treatment this morning was tough…I’m not so good at the breathing. I’m flat on my back with my head slightly elevated, my arms are over my head but the bar I hold is below (not under) my head and my elbows are out and I can see them out of the corners of my eyes. It’s so uncomfortable. No… scratch that…it’s quite a painful position.
And then I’m supposed to breathe in deeply….but not too deep (and not too shallow, either) and hold my breath…..it’s much harder than it seems. And my entire body tenses when I take in a deep breath.They gave me a little tip today, though: When I take the breath in, I’m supposed to fill my lungs (not my stomach) and do so without arching my back.
As soon as I arch my back, I risk moving and messing up the very precise position I’m set up in. And if my position is messed up, the beams won’t work. If the beams won’t work, they have to take an x-ray to figure out why and then make any adjustments necessary.
All the while, my arms are over my head and hurting. Sooooooo the longer it takes for me to breathe correctly, the more pain I am in. In other words…..I better figure out this breathing thing real quick…. (somehow I was better at it yesterday?)
I get another chance to practice tomorrow. So we’ll see how it goes.
Practice Does Pay Off :: 2/21/18 :: Post 172
Success! My practice last night paid off and I got my breathing right the first time today!
I practiced keeping my body relaxed, keeping my back touching the table and filling my lungs instead of my stomach. And I nailed it. Each time!!
As I was leaving, Stephanie, my radiation tech said I did a great job on my breathing…I told her I’d practiced and she giggled. 🙂 And because I was able to get it right each time, my total treatment time was significantly less!!
Then I headed to Skyridge for physical therapy and that was excruciating. She worked on my pained shoulders and muscles and that was rough. Not to mention the driving. Sooooo much driving.
Then I had work. Busy day. Good day And as I write tonight, I feel tired and nauseous and I can hardly keep my eyes open so I’m gonna crash so I catch my sleepiness window. (I’ve dropped my phone on my face a couple of times already….)
Beyond :: 2/20/19 :: Post 526
Beyond weary.
So exhausted…like eyes-crossing-head-dropping-brain-shutting-down exhausted.
Not tired like sleepy-tired… rather my soul is tired. My heart is tired. My fight is tired.
I can list all that I’m grateful for and I know joy and hope, so that’s not the issue…..but I’m tired.
Harsh :: 2/21/19 :: Post 527
It was 7:30 and I was already laying in bed. As I lay here in the quiet, my thoughts swirl.
My dad has stomach cancer. (Um, ok, God?!) My sweet momma is heavy on my heart. My friend can’t get pregnant. Another friend just miscarried her pregnancy. And yet I talk to pregnant women everyday who don’t want to be pregnant. My friend has ovarian cancer. Chemo is brutal and destructive. A family member is going through intense trauma therapy and rehab. Her momma is close to my heart, too. My husband is tired and we are struggling to redefine parts of our relationship. A dear friend is painfully single and yearns for intimate connection despite her cancer-scarred and devastated body. My body aches. My heart, also.
And the harsh reality is that these may not be the hardest things we will each have to do.