Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Thanks to being off the pazopanib for a couple of weeks, my hair is coming in brown again. So I’m going to end up with those stripes I’d joked about after all. And now, instead of freaking out about how to deal with hair color maintenance, I’m interested to see how my hair will look in a few days, a few weeks.

I started bleeding again this week. I didn’t get upset. I didn’t email my doctor in a panic. I just double checked that it wasn’t in my urine this time, but was, in fact, my period.

I have difficulty hiking up hills now. I’ve decided to not worry whether it’s because I’m still out of shape or because the nodules in my lungs make it hard to breath. I just stop, enjoy the view, catch my breath, and keep going.

Just about anyone who knows me well knows that I haven’t often lived in the moment. There were always things to worry about, plan for, mull over to death. This happened. What does that mean? How will it affect me in the future. Ad nauseam. I’ve just never been that good at putting thoughts down.

When cancer hit, I worried. I worried about my kids, my husband, my cat. How was I going to die – in a hospital? at home? On and on.

Now I seem to be at this place where I feel like I’m getting used to this life with cancer. It’s not I feel there’s a new status quo, and I understand it and am used to that. Rather, I can look at how things are in just a given moment. “My roots are brown, interesting.” “I can’t breathe, so I should rest for a bit.” It is more restful to think this way. I can experience something and then put it down, move on to the next moment.

I know some of these moments to come will include grief and pain and fear. And that’s ok. Those moments will come, and I will handle them. But not right now. Right now I have other moments to deal with. The moment where I’m writing this post. The moment when I’ll draw in my backyard. And by letting go of the moments that will come later, I can just focus on the now.

By the way, if you’d like to see some of what I’ve been doing, check out my Instagram account.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

  1. I think that if you have to live with cancer then you should get a pass on having to get your period, just my two cents :). Love to you Lisa!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s