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Archive for the ‘Planning’ Category

What a Difference a Year Makes

Posted in Boston, Cancer, chemotherapy, family, hair, Planning, radiation, recovery, tagged , , , , , , , , , on July 1, 2013| 2 Comments »

One year ago today I shaved my head. So many other things were happening – I was moving, I had just started chemo, my relationship was ending, I fell and fractured my arm and bruised my knee – and then my hair started to fall out, so I shaved it. I remember the day so well; thinking about it makes me feel like I’m reliving it. (It all really hurt, some mentally and some physically, so I’m not going to spend much time thinking about it or rehashing it here.) But then in other ways, it feels like it was a lifetime ago. Sometimes I’m amazed at all that happened in the span of a year!

Last night, I took a break from unpacking (yep, I moved again!) and Tina and I went to see Tim McGraw at the Comcast Center. And of course he sang Live Like You Were Dying. Just as last year when I saw him perform it live at Gillette, it wrecked me. As I listened to the words (and cried my eyes out), I thought. Have I lived like I was dying? I know that was my original intention, but what have I really done in this past year? The first thing that jumped in my head was “survived.” I have survived the year. I fought through the year. I struggled to remain some semblance of normalcy through the 24 weeks of chemo and six weeks of radiation. I bought any beauty product that I thought might make me look more normal while bald. I tried to keep everything going even when I felt like just going to sleep.

I didn’t go sky diving. I haven’t been mountain climbing or bull riding since my road trip in 2010. I’ve tried to stay close to my friends and family, but I haven’t seen or talked to them nearly as much as I would like or feel I should. In fact, my life has seemingly resumed its normal chaos, pace and craziness. Maybe that’s not a good thing. Maybe it’s time to change that.

The problem is, there simply is not enough time in any day, not enough days in a week, not enough… well, you get it. There are so many things I want to do and never, ever enough time to do it. So maybe what that song means is not just that I have to rush to do all the things I want to do (in case I die tomorrow), but to take the time to do the things that really matter. To spend what precious time you do have wisely. I need to think about that. And I will. But for right now I am happy and thankful. Happy and thankful to have hair again, to be settling into my new apartment, to have a job I love, and family and friends who mean the world to me. And that I don’t have to go through chemo this summer and remember to put lotion or a hat on my bald head!

Tim2013

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Sinking In

Posted in Cancer, Decisions, Denial, Discovery, family, lymphedema, Planning, recovery, tagged , , , , , , , , on June 9, 2013| 4 Comments »

So the disappointing news about the surgery wasn’t the worst thing that happened last week. In fact, my conversation on Friday with my physical therapist put the one with my reconstructive surgeon to shame.  It’s taken me until now to digest it all – in fact, I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet, but I decided I need to write about it to get it out of my system and start the new week fresh.Long story short: she told me that I am supposed to wear the damn sleeve and glove every day for the rest of my life. Yes. Every. Single. Day. Forever. You can imagine my response. In my head: F@$% that! In reality: “You’ve got to be kidding me?!” Her response? “No, I am completely serious. You’ve see what happens when you don’t wear it – the swelling comes back. You need to wear it to keep the lymphedema under control.”

The miserable glove and sleeve

The miserable glove and sleeve

She went on to inform me that while she “didn’t want to scare me” if it got worse, she and I would become best friends because we’d need to go to wrapping in which case I would have to go there every day for about two weeks, 7-8 hours a day to have my arm wrapped the entire time. You’ve got to be kidding me. Frankly, this is all way worse in my mind than cutting my chest off.

So every day, must do the massage, and the exercises, and wear the sleeve and glove. Ugh. I honestly can’t comprehend this right now. Just when I think I get to go back to being somewhat normal. I just want to scream.

I came home rip-roaring mad (it didn’t hurt that a family member had called and given me other disappointing/frustrating news), and told Nick all about it, ending with, “They expect me to wear it every day for ever – I don’t think so!!!” (Maybe there were a few bad words mixed in there too…) And once again, Nick just looked at me and said, “Mom, don’t be stupid. If it’s going to help you, you do it.” Ugh. When did he become the parent?

I know logically that he is right. But I don’t want to. I hate the sleeve and glove. They’re grungy even though (or because) I wash them. It’s summer and they’re hot. Mom is going to try making some lightweight, fashionable sleeves to go over the medical sleeves (which are really expensive or I’d get all different ones like those from Lymphedivas). And they make it obvious something is wrong with me. People are always asking me now what the sleeve and glove are for, and because explaining what lymphedema is can be confusing, I just say “cancer related – my arm swells.” And it used to be when they would ask how long I have to wear it for I would say “just a little longer.” Not any more…

So I need more time to let this sink in. I’m not going to say I’ll wear them every day forever, but I won’t rule out wearing it the majority of the time. We’ll see. I have a lot of research to do…

 

 

 

 

 

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The Best Laid Plans…

Posted in Boston, Cancer, Decisions, hair, Planning, recovery, tagged , , , , on May 18, 2013| 2 Comments »

When I’m tired, I am indecisive. And I can’t stand it when people are indecisive – definitely one of my pet peeves. This has been a very long week – lots of early mornings and late nights. And lots of eating during those early mornings and late nights, and no time for exercise (except walking to and from work yesterday). That adds up to being tired and feeling fat. Not a great combination.

So last night I was supposed to go for drinks for my friend Andrew’s birthday – at 9 p.m. Ordinarily that would’ve been perfect, but not after this week. The feeling fat and stressed was winning out so I texted Andrew my apologies and said I was going to yoga. At least with the walk home and to and from yoga and the stretching with yoga I’d feel like I was moving in the right direction.

What I didn’t count on was being delayed leaving work, then getting home too late to get changed and walk to yoga. So I went to plan B – go for a brief run. I was really dragging, but at least I’d get some exercise in, which is always better than none. I got into
my running clothes, laced up my sneakers, found my gym boss and … I made the HUGE mistake of sitting down on my bed to reply to some texts that had just come in. And then I leaned back. Before you knew it, there I was, head to toe in running gear, fast asleep.

I woke up around 11 pm to a text from Nick. I responded, took my sneakers off and crawled back into bed. Clearly I needed sleep!

Third time’s the charm, right? And for me, it was. I hopped out of bed this morning, ready for a good run! The sun was shining, and hey – I was already dressed for a run! I threw my sneakers back on, grabbed my phone and headphones, and out the door I went.

And then I was pleasantly surprised by one of my neighbors. I stopped by my car to grab my sunglasses and as I closed the door, he walked toward me. We exchanged hellos and then he said he was glad to hear I was sticking around. A bit confused how he knew I was moving at all, I simply said thank you and started to point to my new apartment when he said the number. Heck, he probably knew I had the place before I did! I was surprised because I didn’t think I was noticed here, and then he really shocked me:

“You always inspire me,” he said.

“Huh?” I responded (eloquent, I know).

“Whenever my back is aching and I don’t want to move, I think of you and how you keep going, and know I can, too.”

“Thank you – I’m so glad,” I bumbled, amazed he even knew anything about me. But I guess the fact that I moved in with long brown hair, then it was cut, then shaved, then wigs, then bald, and now short brown hair – I guess maybe some of my neighbors noticed. Hard to miss at some points.

So we smiled, wished each other good days and headed on our separate ways. And that brief encounter made my day. It reminded me that whether people acknowledge you or not, there’s always someone watching – and sometimes appreciating – what you do. And today it made me thankful that I fell asleep last night and ended up with plan C.

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