Keeping Pace

Keeping Pace

sick and tired

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I’ve been cooped up in my house for the past five days. A good deal of my stay was spent with my arms wrapped around one of the three toilets in my house. The experience was reminiscent of a time back in 1997 where morning sickness coupled with a sinus infection had me similarly incapacitated. Back then, in an effort to spend a bit of time off the bathroom floor, I hunched over the bathroom sink instead. This was where I learned the importance of proper body mechanics in ALL things – most especially vomiting! I’ve been paying for that mistake ever since. Suffice to say, I learned my lesson.

Unlike the prior experience, I am able to take antibiotics and other medications with this illness. In fact, a good deal of my nausea is probably caused to the antibiotics prescribed to treat my current illness of pneumonia. Although I am now able to tolerate solid food, the anorexic impulse continues. Still, I feel much better than I have been feeling and feel that after 5 days of antibiotic treatment, I don’t pose a threat to spreading my joy with those who come near me.

Having gone to work today, I am acutely aware of the surrounding cubicle-dwellers who cringe anytime I cough out loud. I also try not to elaborate on the details of how I am doing – so as not to alarm anyone sitting nearby. This may give the impression that I don’t want to talk. To be perfectly honest, I am just trying to be as normal as possible; I really don’t want to come up with an in-depth explanation for all of the lingering symptoms – which apparently may last up to a full month after my antibiotic treatment has completed.

Since I need to keep clearing the mucus from my lungs, I am forced to get up frequently and find some place to cough in private. Even the bathroom poses a challenge. I sit in my stall waiting for the last person to leave before taking a deep inhale and COUGH. At one point, I walked to my car to take care of business because the bathroom never seemed to clear out.

My youngest and theMAN do not seem to appreciate how little energy I have for carefully choosing my responses to their questions. Not only do I not have the energy for this, I also am lacking the energy required to decipher their responses. Somehow, I thought that they would understand my need to be direct and get concise responses. That does not seem to be the case. They are both hurt and/or angry with me.

And now that I am at work, I am trying not to alienate anyone here.

It’s hard work.

October: Breast Cancer Awareness Month

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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.

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Seasons Change

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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.

For mom

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My mom is scheduled to have a hip replacement this coming Monday. Having had numerous prior surgical procedures (including spinal fusions, knee and ankle replacements, and foot reconstruction), Mom is no stranger to the Operating Room. Still, she is nervous as heck. I can’t say that I blame her. There is always a level of risk to such procedures. I’m nervous, and I’m not the one having the procedure.

IMG_0533[1] Please, send good thoughts, prayers, and well wishes her way this coming Monday.

 

On a New Path

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This past month, I have entered into the world of gyming. I haven’t been going hardcore or anything. My goal is simply to round out my physical practice with some regular cardio work and some light weights 1-2 times each week.

BoBo found a gym that is a little bit more upscale than where we were signed up but the price is actually reasonable. The equipment is all new and even adjusts to my smaller torso size for easy use. Best yet… there is a pool!!!

20160206-IMG_0187I’ve just started down the path but I am finding my way quite easy. And so long as I don’t overdo it OR trash-talk myself for not being where I once was back in the day, I think something pretty cool things might emerge along the way.

Currently, the shoulders, hip, and back opening that I worked so hard to establish with my yogic practice has been challenged. My muscles are tight and sore but I am hopeful that it will all even out into a nice balance between strength and flexibility. Cardiovascularly, my heart can only benefit from the added intensity. With any luck, it will all add up to better health — which is good because I have my sights set on many fun adventures later in the year.

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