I don't like being too early for things, but I generally tend to leave myself way too much time to get places because I really don't like to be late. So I often end up killing about 15 minutes before most appointments and traditionally 2-3 hours before any flight anywhere.
Today I was so early for my yoga class that I sat in the car outside the studio until I saw people going in. I could've gone in, but I didn't feel like making chit chat. The group I'm with now at the studio consists of primarily older women who do the easier yoga classes, with the little weights and not too much intensity. It's really all I care to do right now. I have nothing to prove.
Anyway, while I was sitting there I heard on the radio about this phenomenon called "serotiny". It's an ecological adaptation of some seed plants. This adaptation occurs because of an environmental trigger. In this case they were talking about a specific species of tree in Austraillia. Apparently, the seeds of these trees can not be opened without fire. It's the act of the fire that melts the resin that sealed the seeds inside, These seeds normally would compete in dry areas for nutrients in the soil, but the fire clears out all the other species of plants and leaves the soil rich with nutrients and void of any competitors, so after the fire, these seeds open and the post fire rains works to germinate the seeds. And new life begins.
I was amazed. I thought about this seed. Just sitting there. Glued shut. Waiting for a massive wildfire to pass over, killing everything only to start the life cycle for them.
The eucalyptus is one such tree, so are sequoia.
All the devastation of the Australian wildfires, those images of the kangaroos and the koalas, it was so depressing. Made me think, we're all doomed. We're destroying the planet and ourselves. Yet here was an example of nature adapting in response to a disaster in order to survive. Hope in the darkest of places.
What if cancer is just my wildfire, and it's cracking open in me potential and possibility I didn't know was in there. Already my lifestyle is healthier (despite the chemo) - I mean healthier in my habits. IF I had meditated, ate like I do now, didn't drink, slept 8 hours, explored my feelings, exercised lightly and moderately when required, drank lots of water and expressed gratitude everyday - maybe I wouldn't have cancer now.
Maybe this big change, as painful as it is, and despite all the damage it's going to do to my body...will release some new me, some stronger version of me. A me that appreciates people and things more, spends my time more carefully and values my precious time with my loved ones... I don't know. But it was a thought I had. And interesting fact about the seeds. It made me feel not quite so sad about those horrible wildfires too.
Anyway, then I went into the yoga class. The class was a light yoga with some movement and light weights. Now normally, this class would just make me feel irritated because it would be too slow and the weights too light. Today about 15 minutes into it, I was glad I didn't take anything heavier than the 3lb weights. It was a reality check moment.
In a month I've gone from doing HIIT workouts sumo squatting 60 pound dumbbells and hammering out spin classes to feeling tired lifting 6lbs. It was humbling. I made it through the class and I felt happy that at least I was active.
Then I had to go to my exercise study. I read about how important posture is for women with breast cancer, especially those getting mastectomies. Proper posture before surgery and during chemotherapy sets up the body for surgery. Many women slump due to depression, or weakness or lack of activity and their muscles aren't strong when their breasts are removed. As a result, after surgery they have hunched backs and the muscles in their chests tighten and pull inwards during healing and it can be quite the setback.
I'm also having all of my lymph nodes removed under my right armpit and around that area. They will cut out a large chunk and examine it after to see if they got all the cancer, that's why I will need radiation up my neck and on the remaining skin. Radiation will further tighten the area and so posture is even more important.
It didn't uplift me reading all this. I pictured my body, no breasts, just a flat scarred chest, with carved out tissue, an underarm hallowed out and sliced open and my dominant arm without any lymphatic circulation. I tried to think of the little seed in the fire, just waiting for the catastrophe to begin again. I tried to be grateful for the possibility that this disease might still be curable for me, despite everything it would take to get rid of it. I tried to "be" the seed and open just a little to the gift of the fire I was walking through.
Then I went home, and sat in my chair with a pretty bad headache. The headache still persists. I'm trying not to think about brain cancer, and just assume this is a side effect of chemotherapy. I see my Dr. tomorrow. I'll mention it. Odds are it's nothing. This is how I think now.
There's no sense assuming the worst. It doesn't prepare you any more to hear bad news if you think about it. In fact it makes it worse, because you're wasting time on something that you don't want. It's hard to not be afraid, and to wonder, but I've made a habit of telling myself at the end of the day, or whenever I feel scared or worried about a symptom or a test I have to have that - I'm doing my best and what will be will be.
Me being worried about it won't do anything but bring me down. So I'll take an advil and make a tea, and settle into my lazy boy for the night. Headache still here.
And after another day, and so am I.
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