Day 4, One Day Late

It was a very happy mother's day.

I really did write this list yesterday, I swear.  But Blogger was doing some maintenance, blah blah blah and I couldn't post it.  Thus, I am posting Day 4 list when it is really Day 5.

Last night I was grateful for…

1.     Feeling well.  At this time last year, I was really really itchy.  I did not want to spend time outside as it made the itchies worse. 

2.     A refrigerator full of food.  Did I mention I like to be prepared?

3.     Good things to look forward to.  We still have yet to celebrate Judah’s birthday (officially) and then there’s that Hawaii trip…

4.     Friends who are family.  It’s really nice to talk to someone who understands you.

5.     Family who are friends.  It’s really nice to talk to someone who understands you.  Oh wait, did I write that already?  Well, it’s still true.

6.     My child’s voice.  Fee Fi Fo Thumb… Every day I love listening to what he has to say.  I hope he always feels his words are valued.

7.     Family.  I am very lucky to live close to my parents, who have been and continue to be essential to my recovery.  Delicious dinners, babysitting and especially moral support – I can’t imagine doing this without them.

xxoo

Thanks a Bunch

Genius!  I am grateful for Wegman's.

I am begrudgingly writing my list this evening.  Let me explain.

I like to plan.  I like to be prepared.  To Do Lists, calendars, schedules, outlines, wipe-off message boards, post-it notes, a fully-stocked basement pantry - these are all my close friends.  And especially now, that I am beginning to feel like a semi-functioning adult again, I am enjoying the routines that I've established to keep a rhythm going throughout each week.

This is not to say I haven't learned about losing control or having to deal with uncertainty.  I have (at least that's for sure).  I don't know if I'm really better at not knowing what lies ahead, but I feel that I am the tiniest better at breathing through the anxiety that accompanies the unknown.

That being said, my patience is being tested this week.  We'll just leave it at that.

Right at this moment (or maybe a few hours ago), I am grateful for...

1.  Happy people on the street.  It's easier to feel happy when people around you are smiling.
2.  ACUPUNCTURE.  Tonight I was told my pulses all felt really good and my acupuncturist was thrilled that I am "on the other side".
3.  Optimistic friends.  Although I often have a challenging time putting a positive spin on frustrating situation, there are some people I consistently count on to do it for me.
4.  Tivo.  It gives me more time to do things besides watch tv.  Instead of arranging my evenings around (a few, high quality) programs, I can watch them at MY convenience, without the irritating commercials.
5.  Dinner made by my excellent husband.  Buckwheat noodles, diced tomatoes, onions, garlic and cottage cheese, with a spinach/strawberry salad.  I am hungry again just thinking about it.

I feel better now.

xxoo

Giving Thanks (Day 2)

Today I am grateful for...

1.  May sunshine.  It is hard to be in a bad mood when the sun is shining and the breeze is blowing.
2.  Energy.  I felt so productive today - cleaned up the house, even swept the front porch and wiped down the chairs so we could have an afternoon snack outdoors.
3.  A healthy child.  Judah had his yearly check-up this afternoon and was given a clean bill of health.  He did not drop one little tear during his shots (we cheered him on - by request - the same way he cheered me through each neulasta shot).
4. The best husband in the world.  He always thinks of me.  He is just a wonderful person, smart, funny, thoughtful, loving, reliable, and cute, too!
5.  David Sedaris.  I love falling asleep while laughing.

Note:  There are many other things I'm grateful for tonight, I'm simply sharing the first five that came to mind, in no particular order.

xxoo

Gratitudinous

Fancy Familia

A large part of the Mind Body Intelligence class has focused on compassion (for yourself as well as for others), loving kindness (maitri) and gratitude.  We have practiced an equanimity exercise, where we go around the room and share one thing in our lives that is easy to be grateful for and one thing that is difficult that we are grateful for.  Or, sometimes, it's just one thing we are grateful for right now, at this present moment. 

Some days this is more challenging than others, finding something (beyond the glaringly obvious) to remember to appreciate.  And I think those are the times it's more important to dig deep and verbalize the amazing blessings many of us are lucky enough to receive - like good health, finding love, having a job, growing hair.  I think it has the power to help me keep perspective for when the going gets rough. 

So I thought I would begin a gratitude log.  Each day for the next week, I will come up with at least 5 things I am grateful for (it can be more).  I will post them here and I encourage you to try it also, either privately or feel free to post in the comments section.

Tonight, I am grateful for...

1. completing the meditation class.  I really did learn a lot about myself and about how to let my body and my breath lead the way.
2.  hummus.  I never met a hummus I didn't like. 
3.  a tidy house.  I always feel better after the countertop is wiped down.
4.  my roommates (both 2 and 4 legged).  I love typing away while listening to the sleeping breath rhythm coming from different sides of my bedroom.
5.  time.  I am so lucky that I have the time that I need to heal from this past year.  There are many (too many) people dealing with cancer who do not - financially or otherwise - have that freedom.  I don't want to call it a luxury because it's really a necessity.

Okay, your turn.

xxoo

In All Fairness

Lotus Flower: click HERE for an explanation

Many apologies for my absence.  Much has been going on in the past few weeks.  There was Passover, of course, and I've been busy healing.  Between weekly meditation class (more detail on this later), check ups, acupuncture, psychotherapy and massage, it's a full time affair.  Yoga got the boot for a few weeks there, since I was still healing from the port removal and then I had a nasty cold for the past two weeks.  I just did not have the strength to spare.

Luckily, I think the cold is on its way out.  I may head back to yoga this week, depending on how my lady parts are feeling.  Since I don't want to get too graphic here (wouldn't want to gross out my many male fans), I'll just leave it at that.  I'm a woman, and I've got hormones, and I've got lady parts.  Unfortunately, they're all slightly incommunicado since the chemo storm of 2010 hit home.  Coming, going, up, down, happy, sad... it's all a little confusing at the moment.

This morning, prior to meditation class, I saw my therapist for a little TLC and support.  I am really working on my biggest obstacles lately, which include anger (at being dealt this crap in the first place), jealousy (of others who have the good fortune to never hear words "cancer" or "infertility" spoken about themselves), sadness (at having time and much much positive energy taken from me), guilt (not being happy enough with what I've got when some don't even survive through treatment) and fear (so much uncertainty lies ahead).

I am pleased that my therapist is not the kind of person who expects me to slog through this manure in a way that denies how I feel (I had a therapist in the distant past who thought the answer was not to explore my emotions or get to the root causes, but to distract myself with "other" activities - you'll have to wait for the published version if you want the full story).  In fact, spiritually, I think I am more in line with her than with the Jewish prayerbooks I grew up with.  She's quite familiar with Buddhist principles and employs many a Buddhist analogy.

We got to talking today about how scary it feels to fall through space.  And especially when I have zero trust in the universe to catch me.  Last year, around this time, the rug (aka Planet Earth) was very rudely pulled out from under my feet.  And while I was so fortunate to have wonderful family and friends to cushion the fall, I am only now starting to stand up and look around for that dirty little rug puller.  Who is to blame?  Why did this happen?  I demand to know the truth.  Justice must be served.

Truth be told (if nothing else, you know I'm honest), I can be a little vindictive sometimes.  Wonder who I got that from?  I will credit myself enough to say I've improved over the years and I at least attempt to see things from someone else's POV before ripping into them with a chainsaw.  But I am having trouble with the fact that there's no one at whom I can direct my revenge in this case.

I am pissed.  I was backed into a cancery corner and given one viable treatment option.  I can only hope that it worked (I mean permanently) and that I don't have to find a second line of defense against these blood sucking biotches.  But while I'm busy trying not to hope too hard, I get to deal with the aftermath of being injected with poison and invisible death rays.  Cause let me tell you, no one gets off easy.  You can't begin to imagine the side effects that can show up months and years after treatment (if you have the good fortune to make it that far).  I know I sure did not have a cotton pickin clue.

It's all been challenging to move on from.  I dread my next scan (6 more weeks), but would have one right now if it wasn't for all that frickin radiation.  I would have a scan every morning if it were safe.  Just to know nothing new is stirring.  I've been having neuropathy in my feet and lower legs in the past few weeks.  Each time I feel it, I've been walking.  Nothing heavy, just around the block, or a few blocks from the car to a restaurant.  It's a tingly, burning sort of numbness.  Like right before pins and needles kicks in, you might feel something similar.  Fun times.

Plus I'm still dealing with this piss poor breathing situation, which Dr. Henry concurs will probably take a few more months to heal.  Boo.

It might seem as though I'm complaining here.  You know what?  Today, I am.  And I've come to the conclusion (through weekly therapy and meditation) that I'm allowed.  I can offer myself just a teensy bit of self-pity.  And if that means I blog about feeling like a turd and being angry about what I've been through, so be it.  The last thing I need to do is defend myself against all of those cheery, plastic cancer survivors out there who live every moment to the fullest, never dwelling on how poopy this all really is.

If I were truly able to switch my moods like a tv channel, I might change to something brainless and distracting, that wouldn't give me nightmares or make me cry.  I might.  But I'm thinking I owe it to myself to see what happens here first.

xxoo

Stillness

Meditation is not really a class for which you can cram.  I mean, you can't exactly pull an all-nighter on Sunday to "prepare" for Monday's session.  I suppose I could do all of the reading in one night, but it's not like there's going to be an essay test the next day.  In fact, I could spend the entire 90 minutes not speaking or communicating with anyone but myself.

So the studying, if you will, for meditation class, comes in the actual doing it.  The go-in-a-dark-room-be-quiet-sit-your-behind-down-and-close-your-eyes kind.  If you don't, there is no judgment from other learners or the teacher (mostly because they don't get to ask how many times you practiced over the course of the week).  But the more you sit yourself down, the more your body reaps the rewards.

Judah asked me today if I had Still Class.  It took me a moment to figure out what he was talking about.  "Oh yes, Still Class! Yes, yes," I replied, almost laughing at his interpretation of -my explanation of- meditation.  Leave it to a 3 year old (almost 4) to boil it down to this.  But that's precisely what it is:  a Still class.  I go there so someone who already knows how can guide me to label all of the constant movement of the mind thinking, and focus on my breath.

This sometimes happens more easily than others.

Yesterday when I sat (I set the timer on my phone for 17 minutes), I was not very relaxed.  I kept thinking, "Isn't it 17 minutes yet?  Maybe the airplane mode means it's not going to sound the alarm, so I should probably check."  Luckily, the alarm did go off (a lovely harp sound) and I smiled as I got up off of my cushion.

Tonight was a little easier, although I kept thinking to myself how my mind would rather think than not-think.  Not-thinking is sooooo boring.  My mind does not want to do it.  But after a little while of not-thinking, I began to zone out.  As if I were in a sort of twilight, in between awake and asleep (it's possible I did start to doze once or twice in a fully seated position).

I know it is good for me to zone, and to doze.  And after reading and hearing lots of stories of people who have been healed by doing different types of meditation, I feel as though this is the best medicine I can give myself in the post-treatment phase of my cancer.  I don't want to do drugs, I don't have the energy or the strength for hard core exercise, and I'm very sorry, but I cannot be a vegan.  I can come close, but there are lots of foods I just enjoy too much (frozen yogurt, pita chips, rotisserie chicken!, chevre, croissants, to name a few...).  So since I no longer have a medical regimen to control my days, or divide my life into 3 week segments, I am treating myself to a more spiritual kind of recovery.  The kind that comes from not-doing.

It's amusing because I have always been the type of person who is most satisfied during and after doing.  I like to actively pursue plans and efficiently exhaust To Do lists.  And now, front and center on my To Do is -Not Do.

There are, of course, other items as well.  And these items also pop into my head as I'm not-thinking and not-doing.  Like tidying up for the cleaning lady or taking the car for an oil change, making a cd for Judah with some new kid music, pack his lunch, do the laundry... All of that other busy stuff is still there, but so is the one that instructs me to be not-busy.

And I like that.

xxoo

Port-Free

Thanks, M!

I've been waiting since July to wear this shirt to see Dr. Henry (it's my favorite of all of my cancer-themed shirts). It was well received by all.  All good news from my check up (despite a persistent low vitamin D level and a weird allergic skin reaction to something from the port removal.  All in all, I was told to give my lungs another few months to heal from the radiation (and informed that I now have "sensitive airways" to go along with all of my other sensitive parts), but that I have a low risk for developing pulmonary fibrosis.  Since my entire endocrine system got walloped, it is normal to have mood swings (I have a witness, Dan), irregular cycles, pimples, and the like. 

Furthermore, I still have residual effects from the O (oncovin) in R-CHOP (my chemo regimen) that are causing weird tingling/vibrating feelings in my legs and feet.  Dr. Henry encouraged me to go ahead and do whatever feels good and right.  Don't look for things to get nervous about (HA! easy enough for him to say) and if you are ready to expand your family, go ahead and do so.  I don't need to wait a certain period of time in remission since there is no telling if or when the lymphoma will resurface.  He does not believe that pregnancy would cause a recurrence (which I was afraid of), but he said if that were to happen, there are multiple options for treating me during the 2nd and 3rd trimesters.  This is if we were to even conceive at all, which I in no way believe is a foregone conclusion.

Big breath.  Definitely feeling reassured after meeting with him and hearing only good things.  This afternoon it is arts and crafts here at our house.  Judah and I took an egg carton and shoe box to make his first diorama of The Very Hungry Caterpillar (I swear, it was his idea).  Will post pictures of the finished product.  Paint is drying so we can add the finishing touches. 

Next scan will be a CT in June.  Will probably start to panic about that May 1.

xxoo