And what a lovely start it’s been – speaking with family in the wee and not so wee hours, and then spending the morning by the swimming pool. Now that I have reached the milestone of being able to get in and out of the pool, I feel that my recovery is really picking up pace.
I have also been re-thinking those three words I picked yesterday to guide my year. I have now decided on (after a lot of thought and deliberation) on three words which together, I feel are particularly apt and motivational for the coming year:
Recovery, Discovery and Laughter
These cover all areas of my life and support the need to have a balance between physical and mental, personal and professional and all relate to approaches to life, especially as I continue this long path of treatment.
Recovery – this is obvious. I still have months ahead of heavy duty treatment. This will be followed by long term medication and screening once (and, if we are honest, if) the oncologist and surgeon are satisfied that the breast beast has been truly banished. It also refers to mental and emotional recovery – being able to sleep at night without waking and worrying, and being hassled by the scary thoughts. And on another level, it could even refer to lovely white scalp which very much looks forward to being re-covered with real, if grey, hair!
Discovery – this has so many dimensions. Most of all, it is a great way to approach absolutely everything! There is so much to learn and discover at all levels. Professionally it is important to be continually learn and developing, especially in my role! Discovery is lovely way to view learning – exciting and bringing surprises. I am also at an early stage in life and work in our new place, and I have so much to find out. I have much to learn about the country and city we live in, and get to know our new friends. There is a real opening for spiritual development and discovery which is appealing and healing. Most of all, I want to make sure my eyes are really open to what is going on around me and to see the new and interesting in everyday life, rather than wallow in the tough stuff.
Laughter – this is probably not a surprise! Many people joked when I had my surgery, that the knife did not find wherever my sense of humour was located. Most wished it had!!! This journey has shown me over and over that I cannot change what is happening, but I am the only one who can control how I approach it. Humour is a tool for me, and a survival mechanism. Of course I have cried (diagnosis time, hair loss time and other vulnerable points which are often unexpected) but whenever I can, I try and turn the wobbles into giggles. It’s also a great excuse for truly dreadful jokes and puns so this is advance warning that 2010 will see a proactive effort to bring smiles and fun into life.
Right – that’s the theory and the easy part. Now, how do I apply it all the to wobbles which are taking shape for Sunday’s appointment with the oncologist and the planned chemo 4?