Change is the only constant

Lots of focus these days on remembering to take things day by day. To be grateful. To savor each moment when I feel good, from basking in the San Diego sunshine, enjoying a movie on the couch with Todd, cuddling with Oreo and Jake, to smiling at the commercial for the premiere of Eclipse next month. Yes, it makes me smile.

Just as I try to enjoy each positive moment, I am trying to remind myself that the hours of feeling fatigued, the numbness in my hands and feet, the new weird red marks on my hands, the waves of depression that inevitably settle in won't last forever. It isn't permanent.

Nothing is.

I recall consoling friends who were going through difficult situations to remember that things would get better. I remember others giving me the same advice when I experienced the lowest lows and felt hopeless. The tide always turns. Really, the only thing we can count on in this lifetime is that nothing stays the same. That you never know what beautiful experience is awaiting you tomorrow. To hold on during the lows in order to ascend to the highs once again.

Today, ten days out from Round 4, I really still don't feel very well. I'm doing my best to stay optimistic. Yoga, meditation, writing in my journal, staying connected with my friends and family, enjoying nature. Part of me just wants to go to sleep for the next five weeks and wake up and this will all be in the rear view mirror.

I do know that this final climb is going to be the most challenging for me. I'm simply exhausted. I'm extra sensitive and emotional. Prickly. My hearing is more acute. Like a bat. My sense of smell is sharper each day. Like a hound. I am the BatHound.

Positive for today: I am back to teaching this week. I'll close with that high note.