I look forward to jotting down thoughts and moments from my life this month. Believing this will help me grow as a writer. Thanks Linda Hill!!
A pause gives us time to take a breath, reflect, plan, or simply gives us that moment to take a break and move on to another task. 😉
Lately, I have had a lot of time to pause. (More time than I’m accustomed to) As I recover from a recent surgery, I pause to reflect on what changes I want to see happen in the weeks and months ahead. I’m excited for the changes, but nervous at the same time.
I’m moving forward and leaving breast cancer behind me (that’s the plan anyway). This pause in time for me is challenging, but I’m am really trying to be excited about it as well. Maybe in 2016 as this pause ends, I should take more (shorter) pauses to reflect and do more of the things I enjoy. Time moves way too fast and if we don’t pause to enjoy life, we may miss out on some pretty exciting and wonderful memories.
I’m still not moving around like my former self. I make lunch for the kiddos and prepare my own small meals, but that’s about it. I still rest a lot and do a lot of thinking. (Which isn’t always the best.) I’m believing my HER2 results come back on Monday. My first test was inconclusive, so they had to test a portion of the tumor they removed. What that means for me is I do a lot of research on the type of cancer I had and what each test shows. I did all of this prior to my mastectomy, but I feel empowered somehow by gaining more knowledge.
I’ve been able to move my arm some, but I am surprised at my range of motion, or should I say lack thereof. I wasn’t really expecting how much my entire body would be affected by the surgery. Because of the DIEP Flap procedure, my back is very sore and I can only stand/walk for short periods of time. What I really want is to go to the gym and be normal. I don’t feel normal at all, part of me feels broken. It’s not because of the mastectomy (at least I don’t think so) but because of the cancer. Although I am now cancer free, I feel more affected by it now than when I was first diagnosed in November. Yes, I kicked its ugly, nasty ass, but there’s this gnawing feeling that lingers just under the surface. I feel like it is so close to the surface that everyone can see it, but it lies just below where it tempts me to succumb to its trap. I fight back in my mind and remind myself that I am indeed cancer-free, but it doesn’t stop the thoughts completely. Each day I allow myself time to reflect for just a bit, but when the emotions seem too much, I turn it off and redirect my focus. I’m not sure that’s the best, but for today…it’s okay.