Every Day is Survivor Day

Today Vanderbilt had their Survivor Celebration Day. Rain bucketed down this morning and I almost used it as an excuse to not go, but am glad I went. Got some good information, met some nice folks, heard Lance Armstrong's mom speak, and attended a presentation by one of my collegues who I had not known is a survivor herself. We're everywhere. There's way too much cancer but more and more of us are living long to complain about it. I couldn't make it through the entire event, though, and went to the Y later to work out on the bike for 45 minutes, having been reminded of the importance of exercise to survival and realizing that I have been slack on it for the last couple of weeks. This week, I've paid for last weekend's lack of sleep. I plan to get back in the groove of exercise and eating carefully next week, with the start I made today.

Last weekend in LA, I substituted calories for sleep, enjoying several yummy meals with my folks where I set aside my usual attempts at controlled nutrition and stayed up late each night visiting, propelled by adrenalin and the joy of being in my native land with the ocean breeze nourishing me. I loved the course that had provided the opportunity to take the trip home, and loved being with my family for the all-too-brief time.

I thought I was handling it all so well, but at the last moment, I realized my exhaustion when I went to pull my computer out of my backpack at airport security, and it was not there. After a panicked moment, I remembered that I had left it on the desk in my parent's house, having tried and failed to use it to print my boarding pass. Thank goodness for helpful sisters; Jill sent it back to me and all is well. But I am once again woefully behind on this blog. More soon. 

I Recognize This Life

Written yesterday, 5/31/11 but unable to post for some frustrating electronic reason:

It's the end of May and the temperature is in the 90's. The dog is romping in the yard chasing and snacking on cicadas and Dave and I are relaxing on the screen porch after repainting the iron furniture as the sun goes down and the evening rises. We discuss having a party and I feel invigorated and excited at the prospect, eager to make the plan. Later the cat stretches out next to the steaming bath tub, glad to be near water as is his Maine Coon nature. These days I come home from work, make dinner, putter around the house and have enough energy, usually, to do it all. I recognize this life.

It's interesting how the cancer experience consumes one's life while the immediacy is on, while one is in treatment and recuperating, going from surgery to surgery, chemo to radiation, numerous doctor visits, support groups, frequent naps. But once in full-on survivor mode, having survived and moved on, it's hard to remember how enervated I was for so much of last year. Now as vitality rises again, I'm back to feeling that I can make plans, tackle projects, go to work with gusto. I feel as though I was a survivor while I was going through treatment and now am something else, something beyond that. I have no words for it...I'll have to contemplate this some more. Been there, done cancer, survived it, moved on. But I feel good, and I don't care what you call it. Feeling good is what it's all about.

Some of that good feeling is probably due to being refreshed after the long weekend. I really needed that break from the 5-days-a-week grind and loved having 3 whole days off to hang out with my honey and have minimal scheduled time. And returning today I had a short one. That helps. Tomorrow is a long day; I'm ready.