Next step, just get to the next step is how I coach myself through. During chemo, the strength is almost invisible. A superpower that takes over. Then it all stops. Swooped off your feet, wrangled around and then thrown back to Earth. What is the next step in the progression because going BACK is not an option.
No one tells you the after effects, or they do; you are just too busy getting yourself through to HEAR. Afraid one more drop in the bucket will throw the delicate structure off balance, and all will come crashing down.
I have struggled for the past two weeks. Hardly able to believe the body I see in the mirror, but I hang on to the me I see in my eyes.
I imagine the women trudging out of the hospital like zombies. Gown tattered, dragging their feet, lookin like they’ve been run over six times by a Mac Truck. Drooling and in a haze. The walk from the trenches.
The nurses asked if I wanted to ring a bell. Not wanting the attention I decline. Half way not wanting it to be over, half way not believing it is over. A blink in time, or did I just block it all out. If this is the end, that means there is a next step. I don't dare let the thoughts of "did it work" fall in. Now the work is up to me.
My body betrays me. Anafalactic shock beats a bell…true Leo fashion.
The final straw, I know that it is time to STOP this. My body says ENOUGH. Circumstance forces movement and transition is hard, even if it is moving OUT of pain.
I am in the “angry woman” phase. I hear myself and I get tired of listening. I feel like it seeps into every part of my being. This is the poison cancer is made of.
I can get lost in the venom. I can think of a million and one reasons to be unhappy. And I am ALLOWED to be. IT IS O.K. I am glad I haven’t posted in a while because what is NOT O.K. is to let that venom spread into the world. And it is NOT O.K. to be stuck there. I am ABLE to sit with it and MOVE IT THROUGH.
Feeling the venom helps lead me to honey. My eyes will not be jaded. And knowing what poison tastes like, pushes me to find the nectar of life.
I met with my doctors, my acupuncturist, my chiropractor, and myself. I will rest now. I will take the next month to RESTORE myself and my body before moving on. Giving space to heal. My wish is to be INTACT. My only goal in any interaction, is that I may leave with my spirit whole. That I stand in my power, and not feel taken for.
In the storm that is the after effects of chemo; I will hold my ground. I will decide how I heal. I will decide how I piece myself back together. Now the roots will grow.
I will find my prescription for Joy. For Happiness.
My medicine is ME. Turn inward. Soothe and smooth it all out.
I have spent years on the search for what it means to be FEMALE, for what it means to THRIVE, for what it means to be ALIVE. This path has lead me all over the world, drawn to women and their children, to communities, to SPIRIT, and ultimately BACK to MYSELF. Here I will share my most recent adventure, navigating a diagnosis of triple positive BREAST CANCER and each step of the way I figure out how to be a little more ME. I am Catherine-Ayer Gresham a 30 year old woman