As I'm lying down, resting, healing (have been for the past couple weeks since my last radio therapy), I can not help but feeling sorry for myself...
I am unwell. Truly, physically unwell. I have not been this unwell ever before in my life.
I am weak, extremely fragile, finding it very hard to walk, sit, stand for longer than 5 minutes at the time... I hardly leave the house these days. Dropping off my daughter to school is an enormous task. Even just visiting the Doctor sometimes too hard ... I can't go down the beach, since I can't walk for more than couple hundred meters. I don't go out to cafes at the moment, since I can't sit properly for more than 5 minutes and it requires way too much of an effort to dress up in the first place...
My favorite place is home, in my recliner. Just lying down, snuggled in a blankie, cups of tea, a nice romantic comedy, my iPhone and 3 comfort meals a day. My only desired company is my beautiful daughter and my loving man...
My emotions are all over the place too.
I mostly feel sad. And frustrated for being so useless. Angry, when I wish to do something and I realise I can't. I also feel scared of losing the vision ...
The vision of being well again.
The numbness in my leg, particularly in my foot, is much easier to handle than the pain, but yet it's hard to deal with when trying to move around. Or even just putting clothes on. It requires much too much effort.
The tingling sensation in my chin is scary. Scary because it's been there before, about a year ago. And soon after that, there came cancer diagnosis in my chin, scull and tumors in my brain. The tingling went away after radio treatment, but came back recently ... Does that mean cancer in my chin is back?
We were meant to be in Thailand at the moment. A three weeks long warm sunny tropical family holiday. Creating lovely memories. Well, we are not there, because I'm too unwell. The trip has been postponed till mid September. Something to look forward to. But I want to be well! I want to be healthy. I want to be pain free, numbness free, feeling well, energetic, and full of life. Possibly on a very low dose of medication, no steroids. Will I?
Another challenge is my hair. It's been over 6 weeks since my chemotherapy. My body hair is slowly coming back, but my hair is staying so very thin... It's just horrible. I cut it short the other day to get rid of that horrid 'zombie' hair look. But didn't do it any justice. Now all my bright red subcutaneous tumors (which are placed all over my scull) are obvious and are visibly popping out... Not a good look. Scary, really.
I look unwell. I feel unwell.
And I had enough! I am exhausted. Exhausted of needing to make important decisions on my future treatments, exhausted of feeling old, fragile, unhealthy, weak, unstable, uncertain.... And sick of seeing someone else in a reflection when I look in the mirror.
My only wish is to feel well.
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Midnight Monologue (With The Pain)
Why are you here?
What is it that you are telling me?
What am I supposed to do?
How am I supposed to treat you?
How can I possibly just 'be with it' when it hurts so bad?
Is it the leftover pain from within that needs to be let go off? Perhaps acknowledged properly first?
Let go off pain - how? With tears? That seems to help, but only if in a combination of painkiller top ups, monologues like this one and the number of mixed emotions (from deep sadness and helplessness to indescribable frustration and anger) ....
I am acknowledging how blessed I am with my life in the now. I am so blessed to have most loving & caring man & most amazing daughter, my perfect family. Beautiful friends. In the now.
But it wasn't always like that. My past life was unpleasant. My childhood was filled with domestic violence and abuse on all levels. It was almost a complete opposite to my current life. I believe I dealt with all that a long time ago. I believe I have moved on.
Practicing mindfulness, should I keep going back to try and explore all my past wounds further? Randomly or intentionally? Only if the feelings arise or regardless - even when all seems perfect in the now?
I seriously feel I have moved on. Definitely don't feel stuck.
But perhaps I am, on a subconscious level, without realizing?
Perhaps that's what the pain is all about? The leftover of deeply seeded hurt, guilt, fear and anger from my childhood years.
Although I don't feel the guilt, nor fear or anger at present anymore, it could as well be still there, cemented somewhere deep down, and coming out as a horrid & unbearable pain. Is that possible?
Perhaps the right answer truly is: let it be ... and then: let it go
I'm here in Melbourne for a weekend meditation workshop as I'm writing this post. And it's not just any kind of meditation workshop. It's The Mind That Changes Everything, run by Ian Gawler, one of the key inspirations and teachers on my healing journey. I feel so blessed to be able to attend this workshop. And it might as well be perfect timing for my pain to have returned and possibly given me the opportunity to explore it into details, acknowledge it & accept it, (dare I say it) embrace it and finally possibly let it go .... This time for good?
Or perhaps I need to learn to live with it in a loving manner.
Learning to love the pain, well , that's a huge challenge I would love to conquer! So I now open myself to the universe to send me the message once again, to lighten the right path so I can keep heading into the right direction.
Affirmation:
I now lovingly accept every single bit of myself, from my appearance, to my thoughts, feelings and emotions, including aches and pains.
All is me & I am all. Only because of it ALL, I've been moulded into the magnificent person I am today.
What is it that you are telling me?
What am I supposed to do?
How am I supposed to treat you?
How can I possibly just 'be with it' when it hurts so bad?
Is it the leftover pain from within that needs to be let go off? Perhaps acknowledged properly first?
Let go off pain - how? With tears? That seems to help, but only if in a combination of painkiller top ups, monologues like this one and the number of mixed emotions (from deep sadness and helplessness to indescribable frustration and anger) ....
I am acknowledging how blessed I am with my life in the now. I am so blessed to have most loving & caring man & most amazing daughter, my perfect family. Beautiful friends. In the now.
But it wasn't always like that. My past life was unpleasant. My childhood was filled with domestic violence and abuse on all levels. It was almost a complete opposite to my current life. I believe I dealt with all that a long time ago. I believe I have moved on.
Practicing mindfulness, should I keep going back to try and explore all my past wounds further? Randomly or intentionally? Only if the feelings arise or regardless - even when all seems perfect in the now?
I seriously feel I have moved on. Definitely don't feel stuck.
But perhaps I am, on a subconscious level, without realizing?
Perhaps that's what the pain is all about? The leftover of deeply seeded hurt, guilt, fear and anger from my childhood years.
Although I don't feel the guilt, nor fear or anger at present anymore, it could as well be still there, cemented somewhere deep down, and coming out as a horrid & unbearable pain. Is that possible?
Perhaps the right answer truly is: let it be ... and then: let it go
I'm here in Melbourne for a weekend meditation workshop as I'm writing this post. And it's not just any kind of meditation workshop. It's The Mind That Changes Everything, run by Ian Gawler, one of the key inspirations and teachers on my healing journey. I feel so blessed to be able to attend this workshop. And it might as well be perfect timing for my pain to have returned and possibly given me the opportunity to explore it into details, acknowledge it & accept it, (dare I say it) embrace it and finally possibly let it go .... This time for good?
Or perhaps I need to learn to live with it in a loving manner.
Learning to love the pain, well , that's a huge challenge I would love to conquer! So I now open myself to the universe to send me the message once again, to lighten the right path so I can keep heading into the right direction.
Affirmation:
I now lovingly accept every single bit of myself, from my appearance, to my thoughts, feelings and emotions, including aches and pains.
All is me & I am all. Only because of it ALL, I've been moulded into the magnificent person I am today.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
I have enough! I want my physical body back!
As I am sitting here on the couch, feeling mentally quite peaceful, but tired and not particularly centred, I can't help but notice my bloated belly popping out of my Tshirt...
And in this very moment, I feel I have enough.
This is just not me.
I am a petite, fit, toned and healthy looking 30 something, with thick sandy coloured wavy hair, lush eyelashes, well shaped eyebrows, big round eyes and an oval shaped face...
Not at the moment.
As I am approaching the end of a course of chemotherapy, my body hair has thinned drastically. My hair is 2/3 gone, so are my eyelashes and eyebrows...
Since I have been diagnosed with advanced breast cancer in the bone (spine, ribs & hips), which involves being in constant pain, I have lost all my muscle tone.
I used to love jogging and practicing yoga. I would jog at least 3 times a week and practiced yoga at least twice. I walked a lot. I was out and about, engaged in some sort of physical activity with my daughter almost every day.
In my mid to late thirties, I was physically the fittest and healthiest I have ever been before.
I felt good within myself - physically. I used to like what I saw in the mirror.
Then, last year, as my pain was getting worse, there were many pills added to my daily diet.
Needless to say, they all have side effects. Especially steroids.
And here I am now, with the combination of 18 months of zero physical exercise, about 10 pills of different medications a day, 12 rounds of chemotherapy...
Yes, here I am, with a horribly bloated tummy, looking and feeling like I was 6 months pregnant, with the hair of a balding 50 year old man, ghostly look on my totally rounded moon - face and a very fragile scrawny body...
But yet I look OK, to strangers - or so 'they' say.
Oh, so looking forward to the day, when chemotherapy is finished, painkillers reduced to minimum or gone altogether, my hair back thick and growing, my eyelashes needing to be looked after on daily basis, my body waxed...
And more so, when I get out of bed, put on those brand new looking snickers (I bought about 2 years ago and only used briefly training for 8 km Mothers Day Classic Fundraising Run) and go for a morning jog around this beautiful beach suburb I live in.
And to the day, when I dress up in my yoga gear and join the local yoga group again for weekly sessions...
The down is - I can't book in the next 'fun run' event just yet nor the date to start training or practicing yoga. I have no idea when exactly that time will come.
However, I know it is going to happen! I know, I can feel it and I do not have a doubt! In my mind, it's never gone away, it's just my physical body that needs to catch up somehow, somewhere in the (hopefully very) near future.
Meanwhile, I just have to stay here, within myself, focus on my other bodies, maintain those in the state of contentment, strength, clarity and determination and practice patience, patience, patience and possibly more patience...
How about you? Where are you at? Is your goal hard to be achieved on a mental or physical level? Would love to hear.
And in this very moment, I feel I have enough.
This is just not me.
I am a petite, fit, toned and healthy looking 30 something, with thick sandy coloured wavy hair, lush eyelashes, well shaped eyebrows, big round eyes and an oval shaped face...
Not at the moment.
As I am approaching the end of a course of chemotherapy, my body hair has thinned drastically. My hair is 2/3 gone, so are my eyelashes and eyebrows...
Since I have been diagnosed with advanced breast cancer in the bone (spine, ribs & hips), which involves being in constant pain, I have lost all my muscle tone.
I used to love jogging and practicing yoga. I would jog at least 3 times a week and practiced yoga at least twice. I walked a lot. I was out and about, engaged in some sort of physical activity with my daughter almost every day.
In my mid to late thirties, I was physically the fittest and healthiest I have ever been before.
I felt good within myself - physically. I used to like what I saw in the mirror.
Then, last year, as my pain was getting worse, there were many pills added to my daily diet.
Needless to say, they all have side effects. Especially steroids.
And here I am now, with the combination of 18 months of zero physical exercise, about 10 pills of different medications a day, 12 rounds of chemotherapy...
Yes, here I am, with a horribly bloated tummy, looking and feeling like I was 6 months pregnant, with the hair of a balding 50 year old man, ghostly look on my totally rounded moon - face and a very fragile scrawny body...
But yet I look OK, to strangers - or so 'they' say.
Oh, so looking forward to the day, when chemotherapy is finished, painkillers reduced to minimum or gone altogether, my hair back thick and growing, my eyelashes needing to be looked after on daily basis, my body waxed...
And more so, when I get out of bed, put on those brand new looking snickers (I bought about 2 years ago and only used briefly training for 8 km Mothers Day Classic Fundraising Run) and go for a morning jog around this beautiful beach suburb I live in.
And to the day, when I dress up in my yoga gear and join the local yoga group again for weekly sessions...
The down is - I can't book in the next 'fun run' event just yet nor the date to start training or practicing yoga. I have no idea when exactly that time will come.
However, I know it is going to happen! I know, I can feel it and I do not have a doubt! In my mind, it's never gone away, it's just my physical body that needs to catch up somehow, somewhere in the (hopefully very) near future.
Meanwhile, I just have to stay here, within myself, focus on my other bodies, maintain those in the state of contentment, strength, clarity and determination and practice patience, patience, patience and possibly more patience...
How about you? Where are you at? Is your goal hard to be achieved on a mental or physical level? Would love to hear.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
The Monstrosity Of Pain
There are two things that have been present in the past few weeks of my life. One of them is pain, the other is crankiness.
I believe they are both here with me to teach me a huge lesson but I have decided to write only about the pain today...
Pain is the one that I dislike the most. It's a feeling that I don't wish upon anyone. Or, is it a feeling at all? What is pain, actually?
It is horrible, it is annoying and irritating. It hurts, stings and burns on a physical level and it overtakes me, totally consumes me, on a mental level. It is most unwelcome thing coming to me with the diagnosis of cancer spreading to the bone. The more I think of it, the more I know it's the actual pain that bothers me, not the cancer...
It's the pain that makes me take painkillers - strong opiates, steroids and occasionally additional medicine for so called 'breakthrough' pain. And they all come with some sort of side effects. From having constant food cravings, mood swings, bloating or constipation (what a choice, hey?!), to the change in my physical appearance (I am now moon-faced!).
I had a good session discussing pain with my mentor and came to the conclusion of trying to just being with it. So I tried. And I still am trying. Through the meditation or just sitting and resting with it. It is hard.
Right now, when I am ok, with my pain level down to 2 out of 10, seems easy and light. However, when one wakes up at 3am with unbearable burning pain up and down the whole leg, from hips to toes, level 11 out of 10, there is no way of just 'being' with it. There is absolutely nothing to do... You top up the painkillers to the max, but it takes at least 1/2h for them to kick in. Meanwhile, you are there, in the middle of the night, in absolute agony, with nothing to do... Nothing but react. Mindfulness, patience, niceness, politeness, everything I aspire to be and practice through the day and every nice piece of me just blows away in the dark. That's when the anger and sadness and bitterness kick in.... And I cry... And I sob... And I wish that, just for few minutes, someone I know would feel the way I feel right then, just so they understand me that little bit better. That tiny little bit. I want to feel empathy in the true form.
Why? Perhaps it is because I don't want people around me to always see me and think of me as being strong. I don't want everyone to always tell me how well I am or how well I handle everything that I'm going through... No! I sometimes need people around me to feel sorry for me, because the truth is, it is hard, sometimes harder than anyone can imagine. And I am not handling it the way I want to. I am not strong. I do suffer. And I suffer a lot. There is nothing easy about living with pain of any sort and there is absolutely nothing easy about living with cancer.
I feel the love of my beautiful man. I feel his frustrations at 3am, trying to help. But there's nothing he can do apart from handing me the 'breakthrough' pills, a heat pack, perhaps holding my hand and listen to me, angrily and desperately sobbing in absolute agony... It must be so hard for him. And yet there I am, wishing I could pass on my pain to him, even if just for few minutes. Does that make me a horrible person? Perhaps. But I don't care. Not at 3am. All I care about is me and all I wish is the pain to go away.
Yes, it's not cancer that I truly want to get rid off, it's the pain.
Luckily, it's not always that way. There are days when all is well and there are most nights that I sleep soundly. But I did hurt my tumors in the hip area on the recent travel for a weekend away, carrying the luggage (stupid me, not having a 'wheelie' suitcase!) and the last few weeks of pain were the price I had to pay.
My pain has now somehow settled. Still there, but not over 5 out of 10, much easier managed. And I am back to being optimistic, seeing the day in the future without painkillers. I know it is achievable and I know it will happen!
Meanwhile, I am learning the hard lesson of living with pain, caused by cancer and yes, I am mindfully working on 'being with it'. But please, oh, please don't mention anything about that particular learning process if I ever wake up at 3am!
I believe they are both here with me to teach me a huge lesson but I have decided to write only about the pain today...
Pain is the one that I dislike the most. It's a feeling that I don't wish upon anyone. Or, is it a feeling at all? What is pain, actually?
It is horrible, it is annoying and irritating. It hurts, stings and burns on a physical level and it overtakes me, totally consumes me, on a mental level. It is most unwelcome thing coming to me with the diagnosis of cancer spreading to the bone. The more I think of it, the more I know it's the actual pain that bothers me, not the cancer...
It's the pain that makes me take painkillers - strong opiates, steroids and occasionally additional medicine for so called 'breakthrough' pain. And they all come with some sort of side effects. From having constant food cravings, mood swings, bloating or constipation (what a choice, hey?!), to the change in my physical appearance (I am now moon-faced!).
I had a good session discussing pain with my mentor and came to the conclusion of trying to just being with it. So I tried. And I still am trying. Through the meditation or just sitting and resting with it. It is hard.
Right now, when I am ok, with my pain level down to 2 out of 10, seems easy and light. However, when one wakes up at 3am with unbearable burning pain up and down the whole leg, from hips to toes, level 11 out of 10, there is no way of just 'being' with it. There is absolutely nothing to do... You top up the painkillers to the max, but it takes at least 1/2h for them to kick in. Meanwhile, you are there, in the middle of the night, in absolute agony, with nothing to do... Nothing but react. Mindfulness, patience, niceness, politeness, everything I aspire to be and practice through the day and every nice piece of me just blows away in the dark. That's when the anger and sadness and bitterness kick in.... And I cry... And I sob... And I wish that, just for few minutes, someone I know would feel the way I feel right then, just so they understand me that little bit better. That tiny little bit. I want to feel empathy in the true form.
Why? Perhaps it is because I don't want people around me to always see me and think of me as being strong. I don't want everyone to always tell me how well I am or how well I handle everything that I'm going through... No! I sometimes need people around me to feel sorry for me, because the truth is, it is hard, sometimes harder than anyone can imagine. And I am not handling it the way I want to. I am not strong. I do suffer. And I suffer a lot. There is nothing easy about living with pain of any sort and there is absolutely nothing easy about living with cancer.
I feel the love of my beautiful man. I feel his frustrations at 3am, trying to help. But there's nothing he can do apart from handing me the 'breakthrough' pills, a heat pack, perhaps holding my hand and listen to me, angrily and desperately sobbing in absolute agony... It must be so hard for him. And yet there I am, wishing I could pass on my pain to him, even if just for few minutes. Does that make me a horrible person? Perhaps. But I don't care. Not at 3am. All I care about is me and all I wish is the pain to go away.
Yes, it's not cancer that I truly want to get rid off, it's the pain.
Luckily, it's not always that way. There are days when all is well and there are most nights that I sleep soundly. But I did hurt my tumors in the hip area on the recent travel for a weekend away, carrying the luggage (stupid me, not having a 'wheelie' suitcase!) and the last few weeks of pain were the price I had to pay.
My pain has now somehow settled. Still there, but not over 5 out of 10, much easier managed. And I am back to being optimistic, seeing the day in the future without painkillers. I know it is achievable and I know it will happen!
Meanwhile, I am learning the hard lesson of living with pain, caused by cancer and yes, I am mindfully working on 'being with it'. But please, oh, please don't mention anything about that particular learning process if I ever wake up at 3am!
Friday, November 18, 2011
3 steps forward, 1 step back
Ah, the unpredictability of the life with cancer...
Just as I thought all is under control, decided to take a well deserved break from heavy decision making on serious treatments, or starting any suggested serious treatments such as chemotherapy (which I have been postponing for quite a few months), I woke up the other day in an excruciating pain. And this time, the pain decided not to go away. Not with a top up pain medications, not with a session of acupuncture, meditation, rest... Nothing seemed to help.
As the day progressed, the pain was getting worse and worse, until it got so bad that I simply curled up on the floor, unable to stand up or even sit up. It was most physically agonizing pain I have ever experienced, and I couldn't move without the help of my loving man. Breathless and unable to get the words out ... All of the muscles around back and front of my lungs were in a complete spasm.
It took me at least 20 minutes to come back to breath, be able to talk and phone my after hours palliative care team for advice. Few top up painkillers, another phone call an hour later and doubling the usual dose, left me quite high, but somehow numb to the pain and I ended up having a very needed deep, long night sleep.
Positive me, I hoped for a good, pain free morning to wake up to. Gosh I was wrong!
I woke up fresh, at peace, well rested, but realised soon after that I couldn't move. The mission to the bathroom was pretty much impossible. In fact, it was so bad, I couldn't even sit up to take my morning medication. I was very close to be completely paralyzed from neck to hips.
I crashed back onto my bed in agony, took quite some time to relax, release and catch enough breath to be able to start talking... Needless to say, I was straight on the phone to the Doctor, organized an ambulance and off I went to the nearest Emergency.
So much about being in control... And reducing my painkillers.... And taking a 'well deserved Xmas break' from cancer :-))))
What have I learned?
In this particular event from the past few days, I have learned there is often no such thing as taking control over the situation.... No such thing as a 'deadline', or a break, holiday, time out...
Sometimes, things just occur, very unpredictably and totally unplanned, out of our hands, nowhere in our agenda.
It is in a way similar to the experience of being a new parent.
Once your child is born, you are a grown up, a parent, responsible 24/7, for the rest of your life. There is no manual, no agenda on baby's sleep, no knowing what comes next. It is extremely unpredictable.
And no matter how tired you sometimes may feel, no matter how much you feel like you need a long, uninterrupted good night sleep, there is no break from it. And it is pretty much out of control, at least yours, anyway... It seems that all of a sudden, a little innocent newborn, so precious and dependant, completely changed your life.
Please let me explain in a more detailed way:
By no means I intend to be negative about being a new parent, as it actually also is the most amazing experience, better and greater than anything you could have ever imagined. It is also the most rewarding. And it teaches you so much.
Being a mother, I have learned million things, but the two that really stand out for me are:
The secondary diagnosis of cancer has changed my life completely, and mostly (just like being a mother) in the most amazing, positive, rewarding way.
Over the past year, I have left my stressful job, changed my diet to the healthiest possible, started to meditate, surrounded myself with people that I want to be surrounded with, my priorities are very obviously recognised, I have found a peace of mind, gained clarity, got rid of the guild, anger, learned how to deal with stressful situations in a healthy, peaceful manner ... And the list of positives goes on and on.
But most importantly, I have started practising true, immeasurable, unconditional love towards myself and I am learning, day by day, to be patient.
So yes, I have learned that sometimes things happen suddenly, very unpredictably, totally unexpected, unplanned and out of our hands.
I have recently opened myself to starting another session of chemotherapy, but naively thought it could wait until the beginning of new year. I seriously believed my cancer in the spine can take a 2 months vacation from a much needed treatment, without compromising my well-being, let me enjoy the festive season and then, when I am ready with my 'new year resolution list', we can start 'fresh after a break' - in my own time frame.
Yes, I was very wrong.
But whatever happens, no matter have unexpected and horrible it may feel when it occurs, it is just a moment. A moment, that just like any other moment in our life, is sure to pass.
And so we move through life - 3 steps forward, 1 step back, learning to embrace the uncertainty and unpredictability, knowing that although slow, with many possible set-backs, we still are moving forward, towards the completion of the circle of life as we know it.
To conclude, I will use a simple, but yet very deep and powerful mantra by my dear friend Jane:
'All is well. All is well. All is well... Always!'
In this particular event from the past few days, I have learned there is often no such thing as taking control over the situation.... No such thing as a 'deadline', or a break, holiday, time out...
Sometimes, things just occur, very unpredictably and totally unplanned, out of our hands, nowhere in our agenda.
It is in a way similar to the experience of being a new parent.
Once your child is born, you are a grown up, a parent, responsible 24/7, for the rest of your life. There is no manual, no agenda on baby's sleep, no knowing what comes next. It is extremely unpredictable.
And no matter how tired you sometimes may feel, no matter how much you feel like you need a long, uninterrupted good night sleep, there is no break from it. And it is pretty much out of control, at least yours, anyway... It seems that all of a sudden, a little innocent newborn, so precious and dependant, completely changed your life.
Please let me explain in a more detailed way:
By no means I intend to be negative about being a new parent, as it actually also is the most amazing experience, better and greater than anything you could have ever imagined. It is also the most rewarding. And it teaches you so much.
Being a mother, I have learned million things, but the two that really stand out for me are:
- true, immeasurable, unconditional love (instantly)
- patience (work in progress)
The secondary diagnosis of cancer has changed my life completely, and mostly (just like being a mother) in the most amazing, positive, rewarding way.
Over the past year, I have left my stressful job, changed my diet to the healthiest possible, started to meditate, surrounded myself with people that I want to be surrounded with, my priorities are very obviously recognised, I have found a peace of mind, gained clarity, got rid of the guild, anger, learned how to deal with stressful situations in a healthy, peaceful manner ... And the list of positives goes on and on.
But most importantly, I have started practising true, immeasurable, unconditional love towards myself and I am learning, day by day, to be patient.
So yes, I have learned that sometimes things happen suddenly, very unpredictably, totally unexpected, unplanned and out of our hands.
I have recently opened myself to starting another session of chemotherapy, but naively thought it could wait until the beginning of new year. I seriously believed my cancer in the spine can take a 2 months vacation from a much needed treatment, without compromising my well-being, let me enjoy the festive season and then, when I am ready with my 'new year resolution list', we can start 'fresh after a break' - in my own time frame.
Yes, I was very wrong.
But whatever happens, no matter have unexpected and horrible it may feel when it occurs, it is just a moment. A moment, that just like any other moment in our life, is sure to pass.
And so we move through life - 3 steps forward, 1 step back, learning to embrace the uncertainty and unpredictability, knowing that although slow, with many possible set-backs, we still are moving forward, towards the completion of the circle of life as we know it.
To conclude, I will use a simple, but yet very deep and powerful mantra by my dear friend Jane:
'All is well. All is well. All is well... Always!'
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
How Are You Today?
I am sure we all loose count on how many times during one day we are asked the 'how are you'? Or how many times we ask someone.
From random people we bump into or somehow cross paths with (taxi / bus drivers, counter service at local cafe / shop...) or people closer to us such as our work colleagues, to people we love -our dear friends and loving family members.
It is not a big deal and it usually goes something like this:
'Hi, how are you?'
'Good, thanks, and you?'
We most commonly don't expect the answer or really care to hear it and reply, perhaps start the conversation... It is quite a superficial, but yet polite way of communicating in today's society.
Unfortunately (but sometimes fortunately) it all changes when you live affected by cancer.
Random superficial 'how are you's are sort of still the same.... Not a great deal. No expectations on the answer. But when it comes to people you know, they mostly really sincerely wish to know how you are. I am not sure why, but they ask 'how are you' in a different way. It is almost like they are realising that it generally doesn't mean much, but in our case, living with cancer, most people actually expect and wait to get the answer. If they haven't seen me in a while (like my work colleagues, business colleagues, brief friends etc), they ask that same question my partner: 'How is Tina?' over and over again. Some every day, others weekly... He gets quite tired answering and his usual answer is 'Good'
As for myself, it is not that simple. The simple answer 'Good' is just not enough.
Very early this year, soon after my secondary diagnosis, I have made a decision of being truly honest to myself in the way I feel. And once you are honest to yourself, you find it is quite complicated and simple 'good', 'not bad', 'not too good' etc just wouldn't do for an answer.
Living with my type of cancer, which is metastasised in the bones, is a painful experience. So automatically, you are never really good (basically never as good as I felt 18months ago when I was super fit and full of energy). At least not good in a physical sense.
There are days I feel horribly in pain and then there are days (like today) straight after acupuncture when the pain is minimal and the painkillers I am on actually are doing their job just fine. Yet I physically feel stiff, weak, inflexible and slow.
But luckily there is much more to how we feel than just a physical aspect. There are also emotional and mental well beings. And in those two, I very often feel much better than I've ever felt before.
If I compare my mental and emotional present feeling to 18 months ago, it is almost like I am a different person. I now generally feel at peace, filled with clarity, confidence and love to life, myself and people near me. Although tired, I am generally happy and content. And when I get upset, it is a very superficial feeling that passes quickly and not the deep seeded anger that used to consume me and made me dwell in it for hours.
When I feel doubts or fears or any other unpleasant emotions, they seem to be sensed and recognised creeping out from somewhere in the back corner and dealt with way before they completely take me over, like they used to.
Practising being honest to myself has tought me the real meaning of being positive. Because only when you are honest to yourself, you recognise those 'unpleasant' emotions early enough to deal with them in a positive manner and don't let them to completely consume you.
Another pact I did with myself early this year is to completely open to myself, the universe and to selected people around me. It feels so good!
So next time you meet me or call me and ask me: 'How are you today?', you might get the honest & open answer which might sound something like this:
'Generally, I am quite well, thank you. Physically, I am in pain, today around my lower back, not much, but it's still there. I do feel quite weak, very inflexible and stiff though, but emotionally content, with a lot of mental clarity on what to do next. But mostly, I am very excited about an early family dinner catch up later on.'
And 'How are you?'
From random people we bump into or somehow cross paths with (taxi / bus drivers, counter service at local cafe / shop...) or people closer to us such as our work colleagues, to people we love -our dear friends and loving family members.
It is not a big deal and it usually goes something like this:
'Hi, how are you?'
'Good, thanks, and you?'
We most commonly don't expect the answer or really care to hear it and reply, perhaps start the conversation... It is quite a superficial, but yet polite way of communicating in today's society.
Unfortunately (but sometimes fortunately) it all changes when you live affected by cancer.
Random superficial 'how are you's are sort of still the same.... Not a great deal. No expectations on the answer. But when it comes to people you know, they mostly really sincerely wish to know how you are. I am not sure why, but they ask 'how are you' in a different way. It is almost like they are realising that it generally doesn't mean much, but in our case, living with cancer, most people actually expect and wait to get the answer. If they haven't seen me in a while (like my work colleagues, business colleagues, brief friends etc), they ask that same question my partner: 'How is Tina?' over and over again. Some every day, others weekly... He gets quite tired answering and his usual answer is 'Good'
As for myself, it is not that simple. The simple answer 'Good' is just not enough.
Very early this year, soon after my secondary diagnosis, I have made a decision of being truly honest to myself in the way I feel. And once you are honest to yourself, you find it is quite complicated and simple 'good', 'not bad', 'not too good' etc just wouldn't do for an answer.
Living with my type of cancer, which is metastasised in the bones, is a painful experience. So automatically, you are never really good (basically never as good as I felt 18months ago when I was super fit and full of energy). At least not good in a physical sense.
There are days I feel horribly in pain and then there are days (like today) straight after acupuncture when the pain is minimal and the painkillers I am on actually are doing their job just fine. Yet I physically feel stiff, weak, inflexible and slow.
But luckily there is much more to how we feel than just a physical aspect. There are also emotional and mental well beings. And in those two, I very often feel much better than I've ever felt before.
If I compare my mental and emotional present feeling to 18 months ago, it is almost like I am a different person. I now generally feel at peace, filled with clarity, confidence and love to life, myself and people near me. Although tired, I am generally happy and content. And when I get upset, it is a very superficial feeling that passes quickly and not the deep seeded anger that used to consume me and made me dwell in it for hours.
When I feel doubts or fears or any other unpleasant emotions, they seem to be sensed and recognised creeping out from somewhere in the back corner and dealt with way before they completely take me over, like they used to.
Practising being honest to myself has tought me the real meaning of being positive. Because only when you are honest to yourself, you recognise those 'unpleasant' emotions early enough to deal with them in a positive manner and don't let them to completely consume you.
Another pact I did with myself early this year is to completely open to myself, the universe and to selected people around me. It feels so good!
So next time you meet me or call me and ask me: 'How are you today?', you might get the honest & open answer which might sound something like this:
'Generally, I am quite well, thank you. Physically, I am in pain, today around my lower back, not much, but it's still there. I do feel quite weak, very inflexible and stiff though, but emotionally content, with a lot of mental clarity on what to do next. But mostly, I am very excited about an early family dinner catch up later on.'
And 'How are you?'
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