August 20, 2023
I have felt more alive in the last 42 days than I feel like I have in a long time. The second half of my summer has been full of sight, sound, taste and movement. After a few days of a strict regimen of Lomotil and Imodium, my recovery skyrocketed. I spent time walking with George, catching up with my neighbor lady besties, and most importantly, eating. I ditched everything about a low fiber diet and started eating all of my favorite fruits, vegetables, and high fiber snacks. I made big salads in huge bowls and savored every bite. I got back to regular P.Volve exercise. I started ballet classes. I finished a 30 day meditation challenge. I have been to a sold out stadium show, eaten out in multiple restaurants, savored moments spent reconnecting with friends, welcomed my 43rd year of life while enthusiastically saying yes to all life has to offer me.
The biggest hurdle to clear was getting back to work. I resumed work just 7 short days after my “Homebound” post, putting me back in my job for a month now. While the fundamentals of work, the responsibilities of my role and the processes that support it are no different, it feels as though everything is different and nothing is the same. And I don’t know how much of that is because I now look at life through a very different lens or if it is because people look at me through a very different lens. I watch people react to seeing my face for the first time as many only knew me with a mask and we marvel at the fact that we all survived a pandemic. I watch emotions quickly pass over faces as people analyze my short hair, how skinny I am and how different I look. I feel slightly self conscience of my weight, the yellowing of my teeth thanks to chemo, and I wonder how I can best fit in, or if I can fit in at all. I worry that I have been left behind, that I will always be thought of as less than, frail, unable or ineligible.
And then I remind myself that it has only been a month and that we are all figuring this out. And it is more joy than judgement, more love than fear. I remind myself that my soul is stronger than it has ever been in my life. That I have a clarity about myself that I was longing for before this whole diagnosis happened. I am no longer afraid to express what I feel, ask for what I want, and contribute to the dialogue. I am no longer afraid to live my life the way I want to live it instead of the way I feel obligated to. I know more about who I am and what I want for my life. And that is real progress.
I am getting physically stronger, and brighter, and more energetic. The scars on my body are fading and the LARS (lower anterior resection syndrome) is abating. I feel like the world is mine for the taking. All I have to do is live.
Kommentare