February 26th: it was one year ago today that I had my second surgery. Some of you may recall that I referred to it as my Don't put Baby in the Corner day. I don't mean to be an enormous cliche but, I cannot help myself: what a difference a year makes. Today's San Diego Union-Tribune features an article on me called, "Yoga Instructor Doesn't Let Cancer Keep Her Down."
Seriously. I don't know that the link is up yet but, I've got the paper in my hot little hands. Section B. Page 2.
Many have asked me to keep blogging. And, I now feel that I can. My fingers have been tingling to tap the keys. I've been so focused on helping coordinate the Yoga for Hope event on March 5th and on teaching my new classes at MiraCosta College that I haven't had the energy. Ahh, the irony that last year I complained about feeling like I was in limbo, in an incubator, stagnant like a dying pond. Now, it is all I can do to maintain the pace. Again, what a difference a year makes.
Last year at this time, I had months of treatment ahead of me. Now, I'm in the rebuilding phase. I must say that although I'm continuing to get stronger, it isn't as fast as I would prefer. Not fast enough. Never fast enough. But, I need to remind myself how far I've come and be patient. Ahhh, patience. That virtue that failed to miraculously appear. Never had it, and probably never will. I guess I just am eager to gobble up life now.
My yoga practice feels better each time I step onto the mat and I am extremely grateful. I'm so grateful that I can get up and go to class. Period. I can go for hour-long walks again. Even up hills! My hair is now long enough that people think I chose to have a chic short do. Honestly, the hair is too stylish for me! I can't wait until it is longer and I can put it in a ponytail. For now, I am thrilled to have my own hair.
My battle with Tamoxifen, the evil estrogen-blocker that I am sentenced to consume for the next five years, is not progressing well. The side-effects are not disappearing. The side-effects stink. It has gotten to the point where the insomnia was so unbearable that I had to stop taking it. For two blissful weeks, I felt great: no bloating, constipation, hot flashes, depression, mood swings. I've re-started it at a lower dosage, although my doctor doesn't know that yet. I am trying to find that balance between my quality of life now and whether I believe that the tamoxifen is as vital as the medical community tells me. Again, I'm not convinced.
The last few weeks have been a flurry of media activity to promote Yoga for Hope. This event is so amazing and I am thrilled at the positive response we've received.
I need to prepare my speech. It only has to be three minutes but, I want it to be great. Part of the struggle lies in the fact that EVERY survivor has an important story and how is mine unique? All I can do is share my experience and hope that it resonates. No pressure.
I just want to make sure I emphasize that I wouldn't be here without the support and love of everyone in my life. Absolutely, no question: the biggest gift was learning to receive. Thank you.
