Consolidation Friday, December 03, 2010 |
These are re-posts from my other blog...posted here solely for consolidation.
Re-post from July 30th, 2009
This Past Year...
What I Let Go of This Past Year:
My health.
Most of my comfort zones.
My figure.
Getting up early every morning.
A clean room.
Pants that fit right.
Some of the people I thought would always be there.
Sleeping on a regular schedule.
Having multiple jobs and a 32-credit class schedule.
Reading books that require an attention span.
Doing almost anything that requires an attention span.
Spontaneity and some of my independence.
Living beyond this moment.
What I Found This Past Year:
Lung Cancer and paraneoplastic neurological syndrome.
Open eyes and heart.
The benefits of patience.
An amazing medical team.
Surprises in my Kleenex.
That there is always a reason to smile somewhere.
Compazine to compensate for Vincristine and Revimmune.
Reiki.
Love and care from my family; if you're still in my life at this point, you're family.
Ginger. Ginger snaps, ginger tea, ginger cubes; I will take it all.
New ways to trust.
Precious times with my sisters (you know who you are).
The most amazing friends in the world.
Re-post from July 30, 2009
Thoughts on this past year...
Yesterday, I found out that one of my dearest “battle buddies” has retired her armor. “No more popsicles, no more pain days”. Janie is now in remission from lung cancer, and I couldn’t be happier for her. In a conversation with her, one that at first felt like any other of the numerous we have shared, I realized it’s been a year. She told me how brave I've become, and how strong, and I suppose I might be. I haven’t seen my past year as she has; have I really changed so much? I find it funny that she thinks of me exactly how I think of her…it astounds me that we can see great strength in others, but not in ourselves. I’ve been thinking so much lately, and the following is just thought expressed… feel free to read if you want, and share your thoughts…but please don’t judge.
A little over a year ago I learned that I had cancer. This is the point when my life changed, and I became a new Madrina, with the old Madrina by her side, but new nonetheless. Because I try to be pretty good-natured in general I think I’ve been able to think positively for most of this year. I haven’t been depressed. I’ve been afraid -- I still am, a little -- and I’ve been worn out, but I haven’t fallen too far into the black pit, never so far that I couldn’t haul myself out, or have someone there dragging me out.
I could make lists of what I’ve been through, and what I’ve learned. I could go over every awful event and milestone, one by one. But when I look back at the whole year, I see my strength and power, along with the strength and power of friends, and an open mind and heart it took to temper all the hard things. That’s what I’ve learned – that my friends, my openness and willingness, and my choice to see the experience as powerful, have really made a difference in my recovery. I took on some very big things, and here I am writing about it.
So I guess cancer is my friend, my very dark friend. It’s given me many gifts, even as it has taken so much from me. Though I don't want it in my life, I’ve come to depend on it, in a strange way. It's been the reason for so many things, for this entire year of things. It's caused me to have a new life, a new normal, a new reality. The new reality includes cancer. Whether it’s here or its gone -- doesn’t matter. Its part of me, and it changed everything.
A year or so ago, when I was diagnosed, and I was about to have surgery, I didn’t yet know what it meant to have cancer. It was big, but it didn’t have a shape yet. The fear that I felt made me do things like become efficient; set my house in order, and buy hospital-appropriate panties. I was determined to be prepared for anything. Later, as time passed and I needed more treatment, cancer settled into my life to stay. I began to understand it, and then accept it. That’s when it became my dark friend, I suppose.
With my latest round of “laser tag” complete, and a month or so break before I begin again, it has finally occurred to me that I am in dire need of a break from my life. Just a small one will do for now. My world has been constrained since last year, confined to a little corner. I feel I spend all my time tending to the necessary concerns of my health and my spirit, which is as it needs to be. This is my chance to break free for a little while, and it comes at a time when I have some energy and I'm experiencing relatively few side effects. The greatest “break” in all of this has always been found in the company of close friends; it is with you that I forget, if only for a few moments, how fragile this life is. The simple hugs and smiles, the nights playing pool, sitting on couches and sharing stories, these moments mean the world to me…I love you all so much.
I’m not sure what the next year will bring. I hope it will bring more joy, and peace of mind, and less time spent worrying about cancer. I hope I’ll keep all the best things I found in myself safe and sound. I hope my bags won’t be burdensome, because until I really believe that I’m not in danger, I can’t put them down.
Thank you all for making this strange, powerful journey with me. You're wise and wonderful, every single one of you.
Re-post from July 30th, 2009
This Past Year...
What I Let Go of This Past Year:
My health.
Most of my comfort zones.
My figure.
Getting up early every morning.
A clean room.
Pants that fit right.
Some of the people I thought would always be there.
Sleeping on a regular schedule.
Having multiple jobs and a 32-credit class schedule.
Reading books that require an attention span.
Doing almost anything that requires an attention span.
Spontaneity and some of my independence.
Living beyond this moment.
What I Found This Past Year:
Lung Cancer and paraneoplastic neurological syndrome.
Open eyes and heart.
The benefits of patience.
An amazing medical team.
Surprises in my Kleenex.
That there is always a reason to smile somewhere.
Compazine to compensate for Vincristine and Revimmune.
Reiki.
Love and care from my family; if you're still in my life at this point, you're family.
Ginger. Ginger snaps, ginger tea, ginger cubes; I will take it all.
New ways to trust.
Precious times with my sisters (you know who you are).
The most amazing friends in the world.
Re-post from July 30, 2009
Thoughts on this past year...
Yesterday, I found out that one of my dearest “battle buddies” has retired her armor. “No more popsicles, no more pain days”. Janie is now in remission from lung cancer, and I couldn’t be happier for her. In a conversation with her, one that at first felt like any other of the numerous we have shared, I realized it’s been a year. She told me how brave I've become, and how strong, and I suppose I might be. I haven’t seen my past year as she has; have I really changed so much? I find it funny that she thinks of me exactly how I think of her…it astounds me that we can see great strength in others, but not in ourselves. I’ve been thinking so much lately, and the following is just thought expressed… feel free to read if you want, and share your thoughts…but please don’t judge.
A little over a year ago I learned that I had cancer. This is the point when my life changed, and I became a new Madrina, with the old Madrina by her side, but new nonetheless. Because I try to be pretty good-natured in general I think I’ve been able to think positively for most of this year. I haven’t been depressed. I’ve been afraid -- I still am, a little -- and I’ve been worn out, but I haven’t fallen too far into the black pit, never so far that I couldn’t haul myself out, or have someone there dragging me out.
I could make lists of what I’ve been through, and what I’ve learned. I could go over every awful event and milestone, one by one. But when I look back at the whole year, I see my strength and power, along with the strength and power of friends, and an open mind and heart it took to temper all the hard things. That’s what I’ve learned – that my friends, my openness and willingness, and my choice to see the experience as powerful, have really made a difference in my recovery. I took on some very big things, and here I am writing about it.
So I guess cancer is my friend, my very dark friend. It’s given me many gifts, even as it has taken so much from me. Though I don't want it in my life, I’ve come to depend on it, in a strange way. It's been the reason for so many things, for this entire year of things. It's caused me to have a new life, a new normal, a new reality. The new reality includes cancer. Whether it’s here or its gone -- doesn’t matter. Its part of me, and it changed everything.
A year or so ago, when I was diagnosed, and I was about to have surgery, I didn’t yet know what it meant to have cancer. It was big, but it didn’t have a shape yet. The fear that I felt made me do things like become efficient; set my house in order, and buy hospital-appropriate panties. I was determined to be prepared for anything. Later, as time passed and I needed more treatment, cancer settled into my life to stay. I began to understand it, and then accept it. That’s when it became my dark friend, I suppose.
With my latest round of “laser tag” complete, and a month or so break before I begin again, it has finally occurred to me that I am in dire need of a break from my life. Just a small one will do for now. My world has been constrained since last year, confined to a little corner. I feel I spend all my time tending to the necessary concerns of my health and my spirit, which is as it needs to be. This is my chance to break free for a little while, and it comes at a time when I have some energy and I'm experiencing relatively few side effects. The greatest “break” in all of this has always been found in the company of close friends; it is with you that I forget, if only for a few moments, how fragile this life is. The simple hugs and smiles, the nights playing pool, sitting on couches and sharing stories, these moments mean the world to me…I love you all so much.
I’m not sure what the next year will bring. I hope it will bring more joy, and peace of mind, and less time spent worrying about cancer. I hope I’ll keep all the best things I found in myself safe and sound. I hope my bags won’t be burdensome, because until I really believe that I’m not in danger, I can’t put them down.
Thank you all for making this strange, powerful journey with me. You're wise and wonderful, every single one of you.
Labels: change, consolidation, random, sharing, thought
