Saturday Considerations

wrote this over Saturday and Sunday; since then, I have come to like my haircut.
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It's the same every week-I cram way too much into a Saturday. It's a hopeful act on my part, but one that's becoming increasingly debilitating. I have to cut down, and I have to be more wise about my choices for grooming maintenance activities and social plans.

I am torn between wanting to join in with opportunities offered for cancer survivors and desiring at the same time to not self-identify in that way. The damned disease has been so influential in my life, way before my own diagnosis, that I've long felt that I could claim the title, although I really didn't participate in events at Gilda's or the Cancer Center or whatever. Now I'm starting to do a bit of that, and it's interesting to see what is working for me and what is not. I went to a writer's workshop for cancer survivors led by a couple of engaging grad students and I realized that I've never done a creative writing workshop in my adult life. I've done a couple of songwriting symposium-type things, and I've co-written with lots of writers far talented than myself, especially my husband, and I've gotten lots of beneficial input on my writing, but no formal workshops. I was excited. But by the end of the day, I doubt I'll go back, for the same reason I don't like to go to songwriter's nights...participants spend way too much time explaining their work rather than just presenting it and then allowing a response. And one participant really wanted to talk politics and that pushed some buttons for me, even when I agreed with him. I wanted to write without the interruption of his convictions. Are all workshops like that? That wasn't a cancer-survivor turn-off, it was a room-full-of-amateurs turn-off.  I suspect any writer's workshop might seem that way.

Later that day, I went to have my hair trimmed and ended up with an extreme cut. I had purchased a set of coupons for nail services and because they were booked out a long ways, I opted for the haircut switch they offered me. I told them when they stated that I could have any service I wanted that I did not care for color and just needed a trim and some styling ideas. I was told that my coupon would be good for this. But once the hairdresser took me, he told me that I would owe an extra $5, and at that point, tired and having waited long and starting to experience some pain, I agreed. He tried to talk me into some color. He cut my hair nicely, but much more than I had wanted or thought that I had indicated. Of course after the event, he offered me a greatly discounted rate for the future; I don't understand that kind of business-building attempt-bait and switch at the outset and then hope for return patronage. My hair...I have so little of it and found myself regretting every clipping, cringing as I saw myself looking more and more boyish in the mirror. Why could I not say, "stop"? Well, I wanted to see some other looks, and now I know what I don't like.

Somehow, with those coupons, I ALWAYS get talked into spending much more than I had intended... they rarely end up being a really good deal. And I don't really like the salon experience, so I'm glad I tried something new, but I had a hard time letting it go, blowing off the frustration of the situation. I even had him wax my eyebrows. Gotta get better about nailing down my agreements, time-wise and financially, when I book appointments. I don't expect everyone to bend over backward for me, to give me the "cancer-survivor special", but I hate it when I am told one price and charged another.

Outed at the Supermarket

This was written on Friday:

It's been a hectic week; 3 of my co-workers are in Key West taking a myofascial release training. I bet they're having a ball. Wish I had felt up to going with them, but I was still too puny and worried about Dave until it was too late, and I don't have a compression sleeve yet, which I do want to wear when I fly and I should have already been wearing for yoga and upper body exercise. Just haven't gotten around to getting it.

Anyway, I am taking advantage of the ABC (After Breast Cancer) program at my local YMCA. I met with the personal trainer tonight after work for my first visit and realized how out of shape I've become...I had been feeling a lot better about myself, but oh well...anyway, now I'll see her for several weeks in a row and hopefully get a kick in the ass toward that goal. So I stopped at the grocery store after the session to pick up a healthy sack of dinner items and as I began the check out, a woman with shoulder-length red hair followed me into the checkout line, got my attention and blurted "Did you have breast cancer? I just got my hair back!"

I was taken aback...didn't think I was so obviously sporting the post-chemo do and look, but she was very eager to share that fact that she is a survivor. Her intention was to celebrate and support, but I felt outed. I got over it and asked when she had finished treatment -2 years ago- and how she is doing. She was friendly, but it was the kind of approach I would never use with a stranger. An odd way to approach someone at the check out counter to start a conversation, but I suppose any friendly outstretched hand should be welcomed, but again, it's not my style to be so blunt. Good luck to her, to all of us. But I'm getting tired of the branding, starting to avoid pink. She didn't ask "did you do chemo?". It was specifically breast cancer she inquired about. I guess that particular diagnosis is too too common.

Long day, stoned night

I'm sitting half out-of-it by the fireside with Dave. It was a heck of a long day at work. I'm not sleeping particularly well probably partly due to the way medication makes me have wild dreams, and the fact that the pain really amps up when I'm lying on my back, not receiving a massage. And then today at work, I was rushing down the stairwell and slipped, grabbing the hand rail with my right hand to successfully avoid a fall, but pulling so hard on the arm that I really torqued my pec/breast/armpit. Yipes. I'm so glad I didn't tumble-I could've really hurt myself with that, but have done something anyway. I feel kinda beat up, like I had a minor fender-bender or something, and am wondering if I'll be able to take the pain of the pump-up tomorrow. I'm also stoned as a bunny right now on an Oxycodone and a Valium, making me care less, but also unable to accurately assess my pain level, and to wonder what the morning will reveal . I don't think it would be a tragedy to skip a week of expansion, so we'll see how it looks/feels tomorrow. No swelling, no redness, no knots noticeable today except for one little spot on the superio-lateral portion of the mound. Yeah, might be a small tear. I'll let the plastic surgeon make the call. Bless the inventors of Oxycodone and Valium; if I have to be in pain, at least I can be in the stone zone.

Brooding

Yesterday started out awkwardly; Saturdays always appear so full of promise, of opportunity, and I so often assume that time will stretch out before me so that I will be able to accomplish all of the tasks and visits that I set for myself. I got off on the wrong track right off the bat yesterday, succumbing to an urge to begin some early spring cleaning and never making it out to the Y, or to a yoga class, but becoming distracted by vacuuming and cleaning out the coat closet.

I did make it to lunch with a couple of friends, both breast cancer survivors, one very recently done with treatment and still getting her energy and hair back. That was nice, and I had all kinds of ideas of what i wanted to do afterward, so many ideas that they pushed out the memory that I had actually committed to a massage. I went to purchase some groceries, and went home and was preparing to walk the dog when the client called me. I snapped back to reality and ran off to the appointment. My client was very understanding; he blamed my brain-fart on the medication I'm taking. I blame it on brooding, and my frustration with the numerous things I want to add back to my schedule, while time won't let me.

Dave says "when you feel overwhelmed by commitments and responsibilities, shorten the list". I did yesterday and got over my angst, had a lovely meal at the home of our trusty friends Grace and Billy, and got a good night's sleep. Took it easier today although I did include a 40 minute exercise session on the strider at the Y, then a nice bake in the sauna before showering (I kept the body covered so that no one in the dressing room had to deal with viewing my nipple-less tits; I won't be so scrupulous in the future-it's good for them to have to deal with it and too hard for me to keep 'em covered) and another brief shopping excursion afterward. But the weekend flies by, and it's over now. Time to hit the sack. Drat.

Adie in Winter Wonderland

I got lost in a familiar neighborhood yesterday taking a frequent shortcut home. The streets were clear but the snowy landscape confused me. I followed my instinct, and I ended up getting where I was planning to go, but it was a moment of disorientation. Flakes floating down as I leave work thwart my intentions to head to the Y; it's too cold and too concerning that the streets will become more treacherous the longer I wait past sundown to head home. So we spend a lot of time indoors, looking out on the beautiful landscape and dreaming of summer.

I am feeling better with a lot less pain these days, and starting to plan travel. I'm behind on my continuing ed training programs, thinking of taking a session in Sedona next month but not wanting to travel alone and so far no one to go with me. Will need to decide on it soon, and as much as I often enjoy being alone, I'm not feeling eager to do this one on my own. Eager for company, I find myself  trying to cram activities and engagements into my schedule as if I could make up for lost time. Trying to plan carefully, trying to stay focused and be here now all at once. Life is beautiful; balance requires intention, focus, core stability, practice.

I met with the oncologist today to discuss the Metformin trial. It's a study of a drug that controls insulin levels. It's an old drug with minimal side effects, nothing scary, and that usually resolve after a month of use. Usually used for diabetes, but seems by anecdotal evidence to reduce recurrence rates and incidence of breast cancer. It's a randomized trial; I won't know if I get the drug or not if I sign up, but will have to take the pill twice daily. I think I'm going to do it. A patient can always drop out of a trial. If I could get the drug prescribed for me and know that I was taking it I would, but it's not approved for any condition that I have at this time. So I think, once again, I'm going to "donate my body to science". It might help me, it might help someone else; somehow, it might make a difference.

Cancer does not trump all

I'm constantly surprised when I speak to an old friend who tells me that they are going through some horrible, trying illness - an unresponsive infection, an ulceration, a digestive disorder, even a stressful divorce - and they tell me about it with the comment "...of course it's nothing compared to what you're going through...". Well, bullshit! It's all illness and/or stress and it all sucks and if it's potentially fatal it's serious and it's the reality of that individual's life. Cancer sucks, but it does not trump all. We are all on the road to our own demise anyway, and none of us gets out of here alive, and most of us will do a lot of suffering on the way. In the meantime, we must take every opportunity to see the beauty around us and to appreciate the things that are going right in our lives. So of course if you are allowing a small wound to drag you into despair, well then okay, it's nothing compared to what I'm going through, or what so many people who are living productive lives in the process of dying from fatal illnesses. So get over it, snap out of it if that's the reality. Otherwise, acknowledge your suffering as your true experience and then stick it behind a moment of beholding the beauty of life, of just loving a quiet moment, a cup of coffee or a giggle at a stupid TV show...or whatever blows your dress up. I'm tired of feeling guilty because I've got the cancer card to play, which I try not to very often, and someone I'm talking with is only, at the moment, dealing with, say, psoriasis. Believe me, I get how much mayhem that can play in your life and that your reality in coping with that is big challenging stuff.


Yesterday I went to a "Laughter Yoga" class. I was very excited about it; I have been hearing about this for a few years and I of course already believe in the healing power of laughter, and have been pursuing it in the "What's so funny about cancer" group at Gilda's and the addictive watching of "America's Funniest Home Videos" that developed during Dave's original cancer journey. I imagined the class as a sort of organized game of "Ha Ha" like we used to play in high school when everyone lay on the floor, head on the belly of the next person, and the first started by saying "ha" then the next "ha ha" and so on, and by the end everyone was laughing hysterically. I loved that and it always ended in paroxysmal laughter for me, very cathartic. But this was more like the improve classes I took in my late teens when I fancied myself a theatre type; classes I hated so much that I knew I would have to focus on my singing and not acting. It brought all of my innate shyness to the fore and made me self conscious in a very painful way. I couldn't find a way to politely excuse myself as one of my patient's had attended at my suggestion and my close friend knows the instructor....not to mention that the room was freezing and I was under dressed for the experience...I sure am glad to have my game group and that we were meeting the same night. There's where true healing laughter lies....playing stupid word games with a bunch of smart, funny women. Even though they all work together and have a framework of people to tell stories about who I don't know, I'm able to enjoy their humor in a real way. That, for me, is laughter yoga...yoking my body, mind, spirit and heart. With my funny bone.

afterthought

I was always the girl who came home from work and took off her bra. I could reach around and undo it with the clothes on, and slither out of it without removing my shirt. I was constantly clawing at the base of my cleavage with a too-tight bra on, and I knew it was time to "let my hair down" when I got around to taking that lingerie off. I am generally braless now, just wearing a little tank top, but the expanders feel like a too tight boulder-holder with a mean underwire and I constantly want to reach beneath it and pull the binder away from my trunk to relieve the pressure. No way now. I have to do my best to gain some relief through myofascial release and exercise and always, these days, really good drugs. Can't wait for the full time braless experience that actually feels like it.

5th Expansion, and a really great day

It's funny how some days are just great. I ran like crazy while at work...very hectic and had to run across the street to Dave's doctor appointment as they took him into the room early, then left him waiting 45 minutes. Well, at least I got a brief cardio workout dashing from clinic to clinic to avoid missing his appointment. Then we went to my plastic surgeon appointment for my "fill up" and that took about 10 minutes total. But at least I got a sense of how much longer this is to go on-probably 4-5 more fills then rest 6 weeks, then meet to schedule the swap of the expanders for the permanent implants. And boy won't I be glad to have those! They are reported to be much more comfortable-night and day difference-and I will be thrilled to experience that difference.

Dave was up to a little hanging out after our appointments and we went to look at new eyeglasses for me. Had hoped to find some at Vanderbilt, but the ones there were really not much. We ended up going to See, a wonderful eyeglasses store in the village, and finding 2 pairs that I LOVED! So I went for them. I'll have to get some new pictures taken soon with my new hair and new glassess...it's a whole new look. I'm quite pleased with it, and ready for the new me. I think I was just pumped by the normality of the evening, being able to go for a spontaneous shop and meal with Dave; something I think I'd been afraid might be over forever after Dave's emergency. He's finally bouncing back.

Later I went to a meeting at Gilda's club; "What's so funny about cancer"-a laughter support group. I really enjoyed meeting Molly, the facilitator, a journalist/filmmaker/friend-of-a-friend who has been very supportive of me during my journey via phone and email and who I was delighted to finally get to meet. Really enjoyed the other survivors in the group, too, and think I convinced myself to train for the Music City Half-Marathon coming up in April. And to attend this bi-weekly support group, something I have never wanted to do before.

It feels good to be happy, excited, up and energized. Some of it has to be the adrenalin shot I get from the expansion experience, but mostly, it's just been a good day with a return of energy. Hurray for that!

Five weeks going on six

The further away from the surgery I get, the better I feel that I'm doing. No surprise there. I haven't gotten away from the evening pain meds, but I have come to terms with them. My range of motion is improving, I can sleep on my side at least part of the night and was able to do a "chair" yoga class yesterday. I'm joining a rehab program at the Y. The ABC (after breast cancer) program. I'll get some free personal training and nutritional counseling and I am totally excited about it. I hope I will take advantage of the kick in the ass and finally get my exercise commitment committed. Because from what I hear, that is the single most important thing I can do to ensue my longevity in regard to all diseases. Gotta do it. What's the point of being neurotic about my nutrition, sleep, meditation, stress relief, etc, if I leave out this component? I plan to do the Metformin trial too, unless I find some other information that changes my mind in the meantime. I meet with the oncologist regarding this a week from tomorrow.