I find that when I'm down, I don't much feel like writing here. I don't really want to share the darkness I suppose. When I arrived home from my trip during the holidays I was struck with a pretty overwhelming blanket of depression. I spent 5 days in Nome before coming to Anchorage to start radiation and those 5 days were lonely and low. The range of emotions I had experienced from finishing chemo, being in the midst of a family reunion, seeing an old boyfriend, travelling to be under beautiful sunny skies and returning to be under cold, grey ones, preparing to leave my home and my animals for 2 months, and being stunned again with the reality that I need radiation because I have breast cancer. . . . was all just too much. I found myself in this state of emptiness. I felt totally depleted and lifeless inside. I couldn't seem to find energy for anything.
When I got to Anchorage I thought that I was feeling better. I even wrote a blog about the flow of being under and over the waves. . . and that I was back on top. Wishful thinking is not enough to make it happen. I wanted to feel better, but I didn't. I found myself with less hope than ever before. I just couldn't seem to find any real reason to get up in the morning. My plans for daily exercise were and still are slow going. I wasn't able to start a pottery class. I felt absolutely no desire to socialize or do anything. If I wasn't in radiation, I preferred to be home, alone, in bed. I cry a lot in general, but during this time, it was as if a dam had busted open. I've never shed so many tears and for no apparent reason. I considered seeing a counselor and trying anti-depressants, but hesitated. Something inside me felt that maybe I just needed to give myself time and patience. What scared me during that time though was that I actually thought a lot about death and it didn't seem so bad. I was certainly not suicidal, its just that I was having wandering thoughts that if it all ended tomorrow, it wouldn't be any big deal considering that my life wasn't feeling so spectacular anyway. I was having a particularly difficult time with seeing clearly whether or not I had just changed or whether I was just going through a lull.
Starting radiation was hard for me. I underestimated it. I thought I would breeze through it and starting from day one, I haven't. Unfortunately, I'm not fond of the radiation techs that I have no choice but to be around everyday. You might think this is a minor detail and I guess in the grand scheme of things, it is, but right now its difficult for me. Everyday I walk into an overly comfortable medical office complete with fireplace and fishtank (especially designed to help cancer patients feel better I suppose). I sign in and say hello back to the receptionist who calls me by name in a particularly gentle, yet sticky sweet sort of way (she's kind, but it feels like its because its in her job description in order to work in a cancer treatment clinic). I wait my turn and then get called into the Radiation Room - - dun da da dum!!
Everyday as I walk back into this huge and sterile room I feel like I'm taking off to another planet. Or should I say that I wish I was? After taking my clothes off and dressing in the lovely purple gown, opening to the front of course, I lay down in my "nest". I take the same position each day with my arms wrapped above my head that is tilted up and to the right. I do my best to block out the fact that I'm laying there totally exposed and being touched and examined by three people whom I less than enjoy. I have 4 different treatments and between each one they all come in and touch and examine some more. I have not gotten used to it, even now, a month later. They make jokes that I don't laugh at and they continually ask me questions about life in Nome, what I'm going to do for the day or the weekend, etc, etc. I cringe as I can feel the heavy flow of air that comes from one of the woman's nostrils that are inches from my face. They also banter back and forth about tv shows from the night before or the latest neighborhood or family scuttle. Its horrendous. I want so badly to shout out for them to stop talking and just do the treatment. One tech, just before each treatment says, "okay, here we go, okay?". Literally, 4 times a day, everyday, and that is just for me. I'm sure she does this with everyone and it baffles me how her co-workers have not asked her to stop. She says it with this chipper tone, as if we're going on a roller coaster or something. She also poses it like its a question. Oh do I have a choice in all of this each day? Is it not obvious that I've chosen to do treatment because I'm there? Where are we going exactly I wonder? I'm getting burned by a machine and you're stepping onto the other side of the huge door. Where are we going? But, then, in about a half an hour, its over, my clothes are back on, and I'm moving on with my day. One little bonus is that they keep a small fridge in the lobby stocked with juice and V8. My pick is the V8 and everyday, I treat myself to one of those cute little 5.5 ounce cans. You've got to find the good wherever you can and for some reason a V8 each day does the trick for me. At least a little bit.
The difficult feelings and the true darkness I was in lasted about 3 weeks I think. Another week or so I was beginning to come out of it and now another week later I'm feeling much better. A few things happened that really helped lift me up. Mike remains steadfast in his understanding, concern and support for me and having him here with me is beyond words. I also started reading a book that someone passed along to me called Broken Open, by Elizabeth Lesser. It really helped me re-frame some of my thinking and gain back some perspective that had waned. I'm still reading it and have found it a real comfort and catalyst for keeping my mind on a path that I want it on. I also reached out a little and shared with a few people that I wasn't feeling my best. My friends emailed and called (although I never did pick up the phone) and I could feel the love. I also recieved a particularly poignant email from my friend Greta who is such an insightful and loving person. This email was really a turning point for me. It just made so much sense and it had a real freeing affect on me. It opened my heart to myself and allowed an understanding and compassion for myself that I hadn't had. This is what she wrote:
Dear Sasha,
It's ok if we don't talk right now. But I'd love to if
you change your mind.
Here's a thought, just a thought, not a sure opinion.
You write that you feel dead inside. Maybe you are
just very in touch with your body. Your body is, in
many ways, dead inside. SO many good, healthy cells
sacrificed their lives in order to get rid of the
cancer cells. So much was, necessarily, mowed down.
That hurts on a cellular level. That hurts on a deep
psychic level. Your cells and your psyche are
integrally connected although we can stay busy and
ignore the connection. You have been so busy with
family, travel, anticipation and now you are finally
at a quiet place. You are with yourself with little
distraction. Maybe you are now feeling that connection
between your cells and your mind?
I really hope that you will go through this--not
around it, as painful as it must be. It is hard to
imagine what you must be feeling if your feelings are
indeed a metaphor for your physical body. But this
might very well be what you need to do to begin
regenerating new, healthy cells--new life. Maybe your
psyche is finally catching up, doing the work it needs
to do to prepare the field--to prepare your body for
growing into a home for healthy, happy cells.
These are just some thoughts but I hope there is some
truth in them. I love thinking of those little cells
preparing to sprout and take over--like ivy on the
side of a building, filling a brown landscape with a
field of green. I love thinking of them successfully
becoming you on every level--full of life and
vitality. Just a thought.
Keep crying those tears Sasha. Your garden needs
water.
Love, Greta A few days after this email, another friend, Millie, came to Anchorage for work and we had a chance to spend some time together. I finally found myself actually having a desire to be with someone and have fun. We did lunch, went shopping, got pedicures, and did a lot of talking. I really caught a glimpse of myself for a moment and it felt good.
And, one last turning point was, oddly enough, a car accident. Those of you who really know me, know that I've had my fair share of accidents and this was much like the others. I didn't slow down soon enough and when I tried to come to a stop I slid on ice with no time to recover and I rear ended someone. It was awful. But, it propelled me into this awsome realization that the things which really matter in life, I have. Gratefully, nobody was hurt and this accident simply got to serve as a bit of an inconvenience and a huge reminder of what is important. My munched up car is not important. I was able to get myself back into the mindset of feeling grateful and thankful for what I have. I have never been short on things to be thankful for, but I do lose sight sometimes of actually being grateful with my whole self.
All of the sudden that hopelessness I had been grappling with, faded. I wasn't feeling on top of the world, but what I did feel was that when I got up in the morning I had a choice in how I was going to approach the day. I was able to objectively make a decision to focus on the good things. For a while I just didn't feel I could even make a choice. So, everyday, I try to choose good things. I try to choose to love myself and my life no matter how much things have changed. I try to say thank you for all that I have. And I do my best to honor my feelings, even the bad ones, but to not let the pain, loss, sorrow, or pity cling on too tightly. A realization that came to light recently that sort of explained a little of the "why" in how bad I was feeling is this. . . I have not been able to get over what WAS and accept what IS. . . I realize that in order to receive anything that is to come in this life, I must let go of what was. This is not easy, but I am working on it.
Its strange when you begin to feel better and diligently practice doing the things which help that along, but are still haunted with the worry that you are going to feel that bad again. Going up and down as much as I have these past 9 months has certainly taught me that nothing lasts too long. But, instead of worry about if or when I'm going to feel bad again, I just try to do my best to enjoy the times that I feel good. Seems simple enough, right? Oh how I wish it actually was.
Many of you have asked what I've been doing with my time. Its hard to say actually. I don't really know where it goes. I am not exercising everyday like I had hoped, but I am doing something most days. I go to yoga twice a week, cross country ski a couple times a week, nap almost everyday, read, watch Oprah whenever I find myself around the tv at 4 o'clock (whatever your opinion is about her or tv in general, I have to say that watching most of her programs nourishes a part of my spirit. There are so many amazing stories that she shares and I finish watching with a feeling that I want to live better, be better), walk on the treadmill when I have the energy, have lunch with friends, and generally just lay low. It may sound pretty nice to have a whole lot of nothing to do, but truly, I would go back to work any day over all of this. I'm trying to appreciate this time off, but it is no vacation. . . no matter how much I've tried to tell myself it is. The side effects of radiation are minimal, but are present. My skin is only slightly burned, but the tiredness/fatigue is definitely here. Each day I'm accepting just a little more that I'm not brimming with energy and its okay. Luckily, I have the opportunity to rest and take care of myself. Despite my frustration with lack of energy and motivation for exercise, its okay. In time, I will be stronger. My eating habits are up and down, but that is okay too. I have lost 12 lbs. so I am grateful for that. More to come off in time, I'm certain.
My mom has always said something that I try to remember. . . slow and steady. This is such a good mantra for life. Stop rushing. Slow down. But, keep a steady pace in the direction you want to be in. I want to be healthy and strong and able to do the things that I enjoy. I may not be doing those things quickly or in a bikini, but I'm going to appreciate what I can do and accept the slow process of building my health and strength. Its not a race. The curse of comparison plagues me and lately I feel like I've made some steps toward letting some of that go. I am me and I am okay. I know that the more I accept and love myself, the more I will be able to continue becoming better.
I've rambled on long enough. Thanks for listening.
