MY BRAIN FEELS LIKE THE INSIDE OF MY PURSE LOOKS....

SCRAMBLED

 

      I expected to be, rather, clear-headed by now. I remember thinking about the changes I was about to go through as I entered into cancer treatment. I felt, at the time, that I would experience a life-changing journey. I predicted that I would find myself and strengthen my connection to God - perhaps, find Him on a different channel than ever before. I don't know what changes I've undertaken at this point. But, I looked at the chaos in my purse as I dug for something I couldn't find (I never can in this bag) and felt a kinship. I said to myself, I never find anything in here - I should organize, again. Then, I realized that the contents of my bag are a mirror image of the contents of my brain. I, actually, had an organized purse for, about, a month and I wasn't comfortable with it so, I came back to this one. That's my mind and thoughts - tossed pieces of life; torn pieces of paper, partial packs of gum, pictures, mementos, notebook but no pen, loose change, keys, tissue, and lip balm. All symbolize something in my life bouncing around my brain. I'm unsettled and I don't like the feeling. I don't have direction and I'm not sure about anything. I want to leave my job and, yet, I put in for a promotional job change. I want to move, yet, I'm bringing more of myself into this house. I feel like there is no future with Joe, yet, I work overtime to love him. I don't care if my friends at work give me the time of day, yet, I reach out to them whenever I am there. I want to get my master's and move on but, I'm, seriously, thinking about withdrawing completely. I am SCRAMBLED!!

 

     On to  other news; Natalia and I ran the Turkey Trot in LA on Thanksgiving morning. We, almost, didn't make it. I had to shake Natalia awake and she was slow getting moving. I went to the car and waited. As time ticked I got pissed off. I texted her and then, called her to hurry up. After a few minutes I went into full blown rage. I called her and screamed over the phone for her to hurry up or stay home. She told me to go. I flipped! I yelled that she and Joe should have been up before me, encouraging me and helping me helping me get ready for, what I considered, the biggest milestone in my life. But, instead, I had to force Natalia into it and Joe slept. I wanted to cry but I was more angry than anything. Eventually, Natalia came out to the car and had to listen to me rant a while longer. Then, we get to LA and the road is blocked leading to the parking garage for which I pre-paid! I had to find another place to park and when I landed in the garage under the Cathedral I realized I left my wallet at home! I started crying! Then, I cried harder and grabbed my head - what the fuck is wrong with me??!! My daughter was telling me that it was okay, "we'll call Joe and he can bring your wallet". I kept saying, over and over, "but, I can't pay for parking! My wallet isn't in my purse" I banged on the steering wheel and cried, "this meant so much to me!" and cried uncontrollably. Natalia's voice seeped in through cracks here and there and, eventually, I stopped crying. I called Joe and he said I sounded like I wasn't okay. I was so upset I was shaking and I couldn't put my words together sensibly. But, he figured it out; I needed my wallet. He said he would bring it down. We had a few minutes before the start of the race and we moved in the direction that we saw others moving. We found it in time. I had a full bladder but it was too late to do anything about it. When the race started I told Natalia to go at her speed and don't worry about me. We marked a meeting place and off we went. The first leg of the race was uphill! Uphill three or four turns! I didn't stop and I didn't walk. I pushed through the familiar burn in my lungs and pain in my legs. At the top of the incline we turned right and looped back to, now, go down hill. I ran! No pain, no burn. the rest of the course was level through the streets of a deserted LA. I never stopped and I never walked. When I crossed the finish line, I cried. I didn't think about what anyone would think. I cried. Natalia crossed soon after me. We ate bananas and drank water. When Joe arrived we met him by the garage. He was very proud of us and told us so. He gave me money for the garage and, then, thought differently of leaving us and got in the car and directed me to a gas station, He filled my tank and we took him to his car. He was very sweet. We went to his mother's for Thanksgiving dinner. I was so tired all I wanted to do was sleep but, the food was delicious. I ate too much.

    I have talked to Natalia about my melt-down and apologized. She said that when I get like that it scares her. I don't want to scare her. I feel terrible. These sort of melt-downs happen more frequently than I care to admit. To be fair, not all of it is something that started recently. I have PTSD and outbursts are not uncommon - it's just, this is a whole, deeper, darker place. I can compare it to the crazy years after head trauma and before successful treatment. I was not myself, then, either.

    I am focused on my exercise. It is the most important thing to me, right now. Running and hiking. When I can do both in the same day, I do. It's what keeps what's left of my sanity in tact.



Stronger

The jogging is going well. Every day I don't work I can get about 4.9 miles in. Some days are harder than others but it's usually because I started too late in the day or didn't get enough sleep. I bought long pants and compression shirt for the cool weather. I feel like I jiggle too much in these pants, though. 

I am adding hiking to my exercise routine.    Nat and I hiked the Towsley Canyon (one of the trails) while I was in chemo and it was slow going but it's a little easier now. 

Lenny went with me on Veterans Day. I haven't been treated so kindly in years. He helped me up the rough spots and when I stopped to catch my breath he told me he had to catch his, too-he didn't but he was being encouraging. He was concerned that I was walking too close to the edge as we came down. Nice conversation - NORMAL conversation! I have not had a normal, pleasant conversation in years. I don't expect Lenny to know how much these things he does mean to me but, they mean so much. Kindness and caring- the cornerstones to recovery. 

Natalia and I hiked the following day after work/school and we nearly made it to the top but the sun was setting so we came down. It turned dark before we were half-way down and I slid down on my ass in a couple places but, when we could, we hugged each other as we walked. When we couldn't hug, we held hands. She was scared and she knew I would protect her and get her to the car safely. I'll cherish that memory forever - both hiking memories.

Yesterday, before my jog, I tried to have a conversation with Joe and it went south quickly. Then, it turned ugly as he said he couldn't be affectionate because of my fat; he doesn't know how to be with someone fat. And it didn't get better after that. I don't know why I try. I hate living like this. We can't talk like normal people. I went jogging after our discussion and came home and cleared some vines from the side fence. Still upset, I walked to Towsley Canyon and walked a different trail. I cried most of the two miles up. So much ending in my life. Moving into another stage and it makes me sad. Joe has made me very sad. My hair isn't growing back fast enough. My nails falling off makes me sad. My life makes me sad and so, I cried. I cried uncontrollably at one point but I kept moving. At the turn-around I stopped crying. I came home and showered and went to bed. The depression is challenging right now and I don't know what to do. I start therapy at some point but I don't remember the date. 

I want this to all be a memory, already- all of it.

The First Run

SLOW AND STEADY

I went out on my first run today. I wouldn't call it a 'run' as much as a slow jog. I didn't stretch or prepare myself in any special way other than to try putting on the knee sleeves. Fail. The knee sleeve is a great idea but it felt too tight around my thigh so, I opted for nothing. I put on a pair of heavy exercise pants - they fit tight (so no jiggle!), exercise bra and t-shirt. I plugged my ears with earbuds and prepared the outdated iPod with music. I decided months ago, when I was contemplating marathon training, that Eminem would be my music to train by. So, on the ready, was Marshall Mathers LP 2. I didn't have a plan or set path so, I just started jogging once I arrived at Calgrove. I, immediately, felt a burning in my thighs and in my lungs. My breathing was labored and I felt weak. When I turned into a residential area off of Wylie Canyon I started crying. I kept jogging, but I was crying. I swiped at my tears, at first, but, after a while I just let the tears run down my face. My body was hurting and weak. My slow jog was, almost, too much for it. I kept going. I thought about the marathon I promised Adam. I thought about cancer. I thought about my body being so weak. In my ear was "Stronger Than I was". I don't know if I was sobbing loudly or not. I had the music volume up loud enough that I couldn't hear myself. I would stop crying for a while and then cry some more. For 2 miles I cried off and on. I jogged, without stop, for a little over 1 mile. Then, I alternated walking and jogging until I was back home.

After the jog I took some vitamins, drank an Ensure and headed to the Sport Chalet where I bought two types of knee braces. Then, off to CVS for ibuprofen. I wanted to come home and work on the garage but, as I type I am feeling tired. The temperature is going to be around 100 degrees today - maybe higher. When I went out to jog it was, still, cool but by 9:30 it was hot.

I need to chop some greens and make a big batch of green drink for the coming week. The batch from last week didn't last through Friday.

Dr. Glaspy signed a note that I should work a maximum of 24 hours instead of the 40 I have been working. I, really, need the break. I am exhausted all of the time. I hit snooze 3 or 4 times in the morning and find myself needing a nap by the time I arrive to work at 0600. I struggle to get through the work day and have fallen behind in my classwork. I haven't contributed to cleaning house or doing dishes in weeks. I haven't ironed clothes in weeks. My room is in disarray. I, just, don't have energy or strength. I would like to take a leave of absence from work until all of chemo is finished but, I can't afford it. Joe has yet to say to me "you should take off, don't worry, I'll help with the doctor bills and other bills you are burdened with. Your health is more important". Instead, I get "I'm tired, too". Go figure.



A piece of my jog.



MY DAUGHTER'S WORDS

A BIRTHDAY CARD CLEARS UP EVERYTHING

 

     Natalia gave me 2 birthday cards on my birthday. Joe gave me 3. We ate at Yamatos in Stevenson Ranch. After dinner, we went to the closest pet store and bought a clear, solid, plastic hamster cage for the baby squirrel we rescued the night before. I want to dedicate this blog to my daughter and her words.

     I, often, wondered what she was thinking at any given time, but, especially, now. She isn't always expressive, physically or verbally. I have asked her and we have talked - she's slept in my room, at times, and hugged me spontaneously. But, mostly, she was not forthcoming with thoughts and feelings. I saw signs of discomfort; overeating, sleeping, staying in her room more, running me relentlessly (I would, rarely, tell her 'no' - I knew our outings were, probably, the most important way I could communicate, to her, that I was 'okay') and school grades slipping.

     Two birthday cards told me everything I needed to know. The first one with Gollum on the cover describes our ability to laugh at and with each other over all things. Laughter opened the door for her to learn about my condition and to not be, so, afraid. Her humor and willingness to bring laughter to any situation is good for both of us.

     The second card is very beautiful and sentimental, but, her hand-written words bring an ache to my heart as much as it calms my sadness. She is not cold and unfeeling - taking her cue from Joe - but, rather, unsure what she is supposed to do. Had Joe been a better man to me he would have been a better father to her and she would have seen what it is that a loved one is to do in this situation. These are her words:

 

         

Happy Birthday Mom. I love you so much this has been a rocky 2014 for us all, especially you. I really don't know how you do it! All of it; work, treatment, and still want to do fun activities with me. lol. I don't think anyone realizes how you much you actually go through. I do, to an extant. But really, I would be sleeping and just eating 24/7. You really are an amazing woman mom. I cant tell you how much you mean to me. Without you, I would have nothing...really nothing. You make me want to do better and all that. You're always there for me and always comfort me etc. lol. P.S. How do you put up with me..REALLY.

   I don't "put up" with her. I love her and would give my last breath to save hers. My great fear was that she was learning how to be unfeeling and distant toward me during this troubling time; should I die she will have a horrible time reconciling her emotions - the loss of her mother and her behavior during my run with cancer. I tell her, always, that I know she loves me and that our bond is beyond what can be described with words - I don't want her to regret anything that has to do with me.

    My daughter's words.