Hello Fellow Travelers!
As I suffered through yet another advertisement for "comfortable and discreet catheters", ("Why Sesame Street is worthwhile viewing! Or "Why I love the Cookie Monster") it occurred to me: Nothing "small" or "ordinary" ever seems to happen to me. I don't get "Crohn's Disease or "gout" or anything cured by Humira. No, I get a brain tumor! And it was huge! And it hurt! A lot! Once it was skillfully removed from my brain, (Thank You, HA!), I didn't recover in a year. I'm still not "recovered". But I am "cancer free", whatever that means. I am reborn! I have never been as impaired (I'm blind/unable to walk or speak) but you know what? I feel great! Never better!
And I'm still changing, physically, every day. I'm a little lighter, a little stronger. Any source of discord I can't tolerate. I don't waste a second thinking about anything negative. Every day I wake up planning how I can be better for my family. I only consume water. Nothing darker than clear. My glass is completely full. I work on the weights and machines with unflagging energy and purpose. I have nothing but joy in my heart and a light in my mind's eye. I'll keep working for neuroplasticity until I find it, and then I'll work even harder! PS is plainly in awe of my "mutation", he goes running and barks at my form on the equipment at the gym, I focus on relearning all my basic skills and getting stronger and he focuses on everything else.
And that's OK. My PS reminds me of Pai Mei, Uma Thurman's "old-school" karate master in the Tarantino movies. Pai-Mei would smack Uma over the head every time she made a karate error with his stick. And by the end of their Kung Fu montage, the smacking had stopped and Uma and Pai Mei were training together. Eventually her wily master's lessons would save her over and over.
Likewise, my PS is trying to make me stronger, longer. And it's working! We can see it! I am no longer drowning in excess skin like a really weird chicken! I've developed lots of new muscles. I can do things I've never been able to do before. I'm profoundly glad just to be alive! And endlessly grateful to my PS even if I can't say it. His knowledge of science and innate bossiness have proven invaluable in this process! Like Beatrix Kiddo getting trained by Pai Mei, I don't ask any questions and just go with it! This is a temporary situation, and the lemonade aspect I've created (or lemon snaps!) is the way I "embrace the suck" on this journey.
Getting through this is what I'm supposed to do! It might be insignificant in the grand scheme but success post-cancer is all I hope for. That, and quality baked goods. I always hope for those...
As I suffered through yet another advertisement for "comfortable and discreet catheters", ("Why Sesame Street is worthwhile viewing! Or "Why I love the Cookie Monster") it occurred to me: Nothing "small" or "ordinary" ever seems to happen to me. I don't get "Crohn's Disease or "gout" or anything cured by Humira. No, I get a brain tumor! And it was huge! And it hurt! A lot! Once it was skillfully removed from my brain, (Thank You, HA!), I didn't recover in a year. I'm still not "recovered". But I am "cancer free", whatever that means. I am reborn! I have never been as impaired (I'm blind/unable to walk or speak) but you know what? I feel great! Never better!
And I'm still changing, physically, every day. I'm a little lighter, a little stronger. Any source of discord I can't tolerate. I don't waste a second thinking about anything negative. Every day I wake up planning how I can be better for my family. I only consume water. Nothing darker than clear. My glass is completely full. I work on the weights and machines with unflagging energy and purpose. I have nothing but joy in my heart and a light in my mind's eye. I'll keep working for neuroplasticity until I find it, and then I'll work even harder! PS is plainly in awe of my "mutation", he goes running and barks at my form on the equipment at the gym, I focus on relearning all my basic skills and getting stronger and he focuses on everything else.
And that's OK. My PS reminds me of Pai Mei, Uma Thurman's "old-school" karate master in the Tarantino movies. Pai-Mei would smack Uma over the head every time she made a karate error with his stick. And by the end of their Kung Fu montage, the smacking had stopped and Uma and Pai Mei were training together. Eventually her wily master's lessons would save her over and over.
Likewise, my PS is trying to make me stronger, longer. And it's working! We can see it! I am no longer drowning in excess skin like a really weird chicken! I've developed lots of new muscles. I can do things I've never been able to do before. I'm profoundly glad just to be alive! And endlessly grateful to my PS even if I can't say it. His knowledge of science and innate bossiness have proven invaluable in this process! Like Beatrix Kiddo getting trained by Pai Mei, I don't ask any questions and just go with it! This is a temporary situation, and the lemonade aspect I've created (or lemon snaps!) is the way I "embrace the suck" on this journey.
Getting through this is what I'm supposed to do! It might be insignificant in the grand scheme but success post-cancer is all I hope for. That, and quality baked goods. I always hope for those...
No comments:
Post a Comment