I’m not particularly fond of this time of year. The season marks the beginning of an onslaught of sadness during times that should be overflowing with joy.
Still…
My five legged visitor
This little creature was clung to my screen door this morning during feeding time. Noting that he was missing his right rear leg, I tried to move him to safer ground.
As you can see, I did not succeed. When I tried to move him, he hopped on me and I [accidently] dropped him onto the deck. Our dog, Simba stopped eating briefly to assess if I had a tastier breakfast option. Fortunately, he quickly determined that this was not the case and returned to his dry dog food feasting. In the meantime, I tried to encourage my 5 legged friend to hop away. Looking like leaf was not going to save him while sitting on our deck.
October: Breast Cancer Awareness Month
To be honest, I’d been pretty irregular in performing my monthly self breast exams (SBE) over the past many years. This was primarily due to the fact that my breast tissue was so lumpy and “dense” that it would obfuscate the exam to one of pointless effort.
That’s what I told myself. Truth be told, I knew where the lumps and bumps were and got used to feeling them. However, as I started approaching menopause, that lumpiness began to change. My negligence in doing my exams was no longer the result of the somewhat confusing exam but more of not having a consistent trigger to do the exam. I had to come up with another way to stay on top of it. I needed a system that would make it easy to be consistent so, a few months ago, I decided to use the “full moon” as the day that I would perform the task. I works out well as, by the Ashtanga Yoga tradition, I do not practice yoga on “moon days” (when the moon is in either the full or new moon stage) thereby giving me the luxury of an extra 1.5 to 2 hours of time every 4 weeks.
On the morning of September 5th, when the moon was full, I lay back on my bed to begin my check. First I examined the left breast. Then the right. I made two passes: one in a circular fashion and one dividing the tissue into wedges (moving from the middle to the outer edge and back). It was on the 2nd pass that I found a peanut size, semi-firm lump. I took a few deep breaths and felt again. It was still there. Remembering my mammogram (which had to be repeated due to the radiologist seeing something of concern), I immediately messaged my OB/GYN. She had just examined me a few months earlier so I was hopeful that the lump was something she might have felt. She hadn’t though.
I saw her the following day for an exam after which another diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound was ordered. A couple of weeks later, I had the texts repeated again. As the radiologist came into my room to re-check the ultrasound herself, I was told that my results were “negative.” But I was also told that due to the exam findings that my doctor wrote, I would need to be examined again by the Breast Care (read: cancer) Surgeon.
I tried to stay calm and objective, although a part of me wanted to freak out. Somehow, I managed to maintain a positive outlook, especially when informing my sons what was up. They each took it in with both concern and vision of a hope – which in turn helped me tremendously. They were relieved that I was not ignoring it but, rather, doing everything I needed to do to be certain that I would have a good outcome – even if it were to be cancer. Affirming to be strong and weather the storm, even if it meant the loss of both breasts, I began looking into what I might be in for should the mass be cancerous. I even searched for Ashtanga practitioners who resumed their yoga practice after mastectomy. I felt prepared for whatever news would come at the appointment with the surgeon.
All that positivity and objectivity began to slip away while I was sitting in the Breast Care/Surgery Department waiting room. The longer I sat there, the more fear crept in and the more alone I felt. My eyes were welling up with tears as I let my mind contemplate the possibility of surgery, recovery, radiation/chemotherapy, time off of work, and the financial burden.
The wall of optimism that I had put up for my sons, and theMAN, had crumbled and devastation was descending upon me like a hurricane. I managed to walk away from the path of destruction, albeit barely. As soon as my name was called, I was able to pull myself together. I think that is because I was no longer waiting but was now empowered by taking action once again.
agaricus
I noticed these mushrooms growing under the redwood tree in front of the office on Monday. The cluster of cute little mushrooms has since morphed into these rather large fungi which seem to be fighting each other for space and sunlight.
Our resident doctor, cub scout leader, master of the outdoors tells me that they are called agaricus. He breaks one off and inspects the brown colored underside. Then he crushes the stem to show me the yellow hue deep within. Although eating them would not kill you, he remarks, they are part of the “lose your lunch bunch.”
Seasons Change
People living elsewhere sometimes comment on how Californians do not experience the change of seasons. While the weather and foliage here may not be as vividly diverse and bold as that on the opposite coast, the change in seasons definitely has an effect.
In past years, I know that I have complained of the shortened hours of sunlight, and cooler weather bringing on more discomfort in my body. This year, I would like to go into it with more appreciation for the innate cycles which appear in not only nature, but in life as well.
While my role in my boys’ lives shifts once more, in addition to my yoga teacher leaving my studio, my body is physically transitioning as well. Over the past 4-5 years, I’ve experienced the most erratic menstrual cycles spanning from 14 to 62 days. Last November, however, I had my last menses and, since that time, a number of physical changes have manifested.
The hot flashes that you hear most about, has been the least of my complaints. In fact, having a tendency for always being cold, they were not much of a big deal until the heat of summer hit. Insomnia resulting in constant fatigue was one of the biggest issues for me, as was the increase in my body’s discomfort. The latter likely due to the overall dryness that accompanies the shift in hormones. Like the leaf in this photograph, when muscles and bones lose their moisture, they sort of lose their structural integrity and ability to withstand the pressures of life.
While I cannot simply drop my metaphorical leaves and grow new ones in the spring, I can let go of my expectations that I continue to go through life as I did when I was 30 years old, and allow for new manifestations to develop.
In as much as I am shooting to cultivate an appreciation for the shifts that come with the arrival of autumn and winter, I am also seeking to learn to embrace the process of aging.