The Road To Health Begins Inwardly

Almost eight weeks. That’s about two months. 56 days. That’s how long it’s been since my last chemo infusion. The dust is settling and I think that maybe, just maybe, I can start processing the whirlwind that overtook me starting on January 6, 2022.

I’m no longer waiting for test results. No longer checking the Mayo portal for any new pathology or appointments. After several months of cancer-induced tunnel vision, I crawl out of my protective hidey hole.

Oh look! Sunlight!

There’s still chemo after effects-my eyelashes and eyebrows continue to drop. Hair on my head seems to hold its own for the past week. I hope the shedding doesn’t resume as some other folks have experienced. My skin has taken a beating too.

And of course, there is the weight gain and jeans that are uncomfortably snug.

I do what I can to accept with these things, but there are some days where it is just plain HARD to look at myself.

The doc compared recovery to being in a major car accident. “It will take a year to recover.” She adds, “You must be patient with yourself.”

This is where I find myself these days. Surveying the aftermath, wondering where to pick up the pieces and resume my life. Doing this patiently is a tall order for a git ‘er done type.

Being a practical gal, my mind goes first to resuming the working ranks. Organizing gigs, coaching/spiritual direction and working on my book.

Returning to the gym is another biggie. But these things are not the most important thing right now.

Going through a cancer diagnosis and treatment is hugely traumatic. Processing this trauma and healing the emotional wounds is the most important task at hand.

I also need for me to process the loss of my almost 33-year marriage. That whole trauma was packed up and set on a shelf when I received the cancer diagnosis just several weeks after the divorce was finalized.

I absolutely believe that stress-unrelenting stress- fueled my breast cancer. And years of me stuck in behavior patterns that no longer served me. (Like trying to remain a dutiful wife despite it being clear the marriage was over a long time ago. Or not honoring boundaries for myself and allowing people to drain my energy.)

The most important healing I need right now is to lovingly look at the scars and wounds on my soul. These are sacred wounds. Healing the inside can heal the outside.

These wounds try to get out attention through insomnia, anxiety and those wonky feelings that defy description but put you in a funk.

Instead of trying to find answers to cure the symptoms, I’ve found these issues are better addressed with questions.

What is causing the anxiety? Why do I continue to behave in a way that is not helpful to my goals or is congruent with the person I strive to be? What is out of alignment in my life that I am suffering with irritable bowel syndrome symptoms? Why is a chronic headache distracting me from my goals? (Might it be that you REALLY don’t want to pursue that goal?)

The physical body wants to communicate with us. When you’re frightened, your body wants you to run from the danger. Feeling grieved? Hello, lump in the throat. Upset tummy after getting fired from work anyone?

We can understand these things. But we tread lightly when it comes to stress driven ulcers, chronic pain or (gulp) cancer. That’s just getting too heavy.

It’s all interconnected.

I long for the day when a doctor visit can include questions such as, “tell me about the current stressors in your life” or “tell me about your childhood” (early childhood trauma shows a direct relationship to chronic health problems later in life.)

That day will probably never come as long as the insurance companies are dictating the health care industry.

Meanwhile, I will continue to journal and ask myself some hard questions. I am learning to look at the parts of me that carry shame and rejection-we all have them. But instead of burying them deeper into my psyche, I bring them to the light of day where those parts can heal and reintegrated into my being.

In our western way of thinking, we all want answers. Nay, the RIGHT answers. We want to prop up our sense of certainty, even though it is that very certainty that provides the ingredients for a shitstorm when circumstances give you a throat punch. The only certainty in life is uncertainty.

I would rather have a good question any day.

What message does cancer bring with it? Why is my gut churning? Am I living in alignment with my values? Why do I still get angry when (take your pick of minor offenses)? How can I live in the moment? Why do I still behave like an asshole sometimes?

Some of these questions are difficult to sit with. But the more painful they seem, the more important the inquiry.

This is where true healing can take place.

Thanks for reading! Appreciate my writing? Consider buying me a bottle of three buck chuck from Trader Joe’s.