Forever since

It has been forever since I blogged. Almost a month.

Several times I felt like sitting down and spilling the beans. But I stopped myself.  I am resting tons and wanted a blog vacation. A blog-cation?  I am crossing over into "cancer survivor" identity. Today for the first time a total stranger (a nurse here in the hospital) called me a cancer survivor. Music to my ears.

What has me sitting in the hospital?
How am I feeling physically?
How's the estrogen-sponging drug going?
How about my emotions?

Whoa cowboy... one at a time...

First, the hospital. It's not me, it's my father. He lives in an independent living apartment in town, in a Continuous Care Residential Community. In his words of years ago, once you live there, the only way you move out is in a coffin.  He's a widower of ten years. His Personal Grooming Assistant found him lying on the floor when she went there Thursday morning. He had fallen and couldn't get up. Ambulance to the hospital. Thirty six hours later, we are in a private room of the Neurology Progressive Care Unit. He had a stroke, and now he has a-fib of his heart, so we are finding out about that. Bottom line, he is stable. This is simply and sadly one more step in the long, slow, downward slide.

I am camped out here. I zoomed to his apartment Thursday, arrived barely before the ambulance. When we left I took socks, moisture cream, tooth brush and paste, photo of us (his family) and a book on Beethoven he got for Christmas for me to read to him. Been here before. Might as well be prepared. Internet and laptops make this so much easier.

You get to know the nurses and the techs. The location of blankets and ice and water.  All patients need an advocate. The ER was so full they had 30 stretchers in the hallway. We were in a room, thankfully. Noise, bells and buzzers. No food or water all day. How do the nurses and doctors work in that stress daily?

How am I doing? Glad to be right where I am. On the other side of last year. Eleven months ago I was all a-ga-ga for the wedding, figuring out how to settle Mike's dad into a life of best quality, playing tennis and complaining that I had SO MUCH TO DO. Then I saw through the glass darkly.

Now, physically, I am improving. I have seen steady improvement in my body. The aches of my shoulder and hips are still there, and maybe the hands. But other muscles/ tendons/ joints are good. When I am too tired, the next day I am achier. Yoga is great, feel so good the next day. This might be the Arimidex, or a carry over from Chemo, I don't know.

Over the past eight weeks (last radiation treatment) I was more tired for about three weeks, then the curve changed slope and I am building up. Tricky part is you think you should be back to pre-cancer health. Not yet. When I let myself just float, only schedule one or two things a day max, allow time in the afternoon to nap if I want to, then I am okay. Hence why I was able to fall asleep on the ER floor Thursday evening for an hour and a half. The body know what it needs. When it needs rest to heal, you rest.

Also physically, I had the port removed from my right arm. YEAH! My body decided to not dissolve one of the absorbable stitches underneath, and rejected it. Pushed it up to the surface to get rid of it. What a hoot! Except it was a stitch that was pulling something up with it, so it hurt. Like a little barb pushing up under my skin. They went in again and took it out. The next week, a stitch from the basal cell carcinoma they cut off my left shoulder did the same thing, they had to cut it off.

What does this tell me? My body is sick and tired of foreign objects, and it is amazingly good at rejecting them. So any cancer cells that might crop up from now on, you have no chance. This immune system is cranking with all engines.

Emotionally, I'm finding my way. The epiphany that I should not push myself to do things, just be still and listen to what my body needs was good. I was getting anxious that I wasn't running marathons yet. The epiphany that I am a divine child of God was reassuring.  How did I not know that before? I do miss my friends stopping over, emailing and calling. I am waiting to hear God tell me what to do next, where to go, who to see. I hear loud and clear that I am not supposed to crowd my days with plans. Being less scheduled, I can listen to His directions.  I can listen to Him when I am still.

I have asked God to show me what to do, who to be with, how to proceed. He is showing me some changes. New bible study, getting involved in a new church. New routines at home. Be gentler on myself. Increasing exercise (slow but steady wins that race). Lay it all at His feet, look to Him daily for direction.

I do not want to be identified as a woman to pity because I had cancer. That is part of who I am, but not all. Not my identity. I am a lucky one, I am blessed, the world is full of goodness and my life is sunshine and flowers right now, and I trust also it will be in the future, around the corner.

I picture myself in another year, having lost some of the weight I gained this year and having grown back some of the hair I lost. I will be playing tennis and golf and walking. Laughing with friends. Caring for friends. Getting up will not hurt my hips. Sitting for long periods of time will not hurt my shoulders. My throat will not hurt when I swallow (I am getting that looked at Tuesday.)

I want the follow up mammogram of the end of March to come soon. It will be great to hear that the chemo and radiation and surgery all worked. I had thought they would do a PET scan or even a mammogram after all of it, to see that it worked. They don't. That surprised me. Another opportunity to learn trust.