. The dreams started about 4 weeks ago. They weren’t nightmares, not really. They were just technicolor enactments of scary stuff that usually hovers on my shoulder every day: cancer recurrence, progression, illness. The colors were brilliant, a sign of the intense emotions fueling the dreams, sort of like living in an IMAX theater.
It’s the first time I’ve been aware of dreaming about lung cancer, but it makes sense. My aging mom’s indomitable spirit can’t make up for her physical decline. My cancer group agrees: lung cancer always looms, but in the flurry of appointments and errands for my mom, it got squeezed out of the day and into my dreams.
Stupid lung cancer never lets a day pass without reminding you who’s boss.
January has been a bit of a pendulum swing. Having stepped back from exercising while the hoarseness mystery was being cleared up, I was excited to get back on my bike again. I quickly learned I was immensely deconditioned, which showed up one night after I’d gone to bed. All I could hear was my heart beating against my chest wall way faster than normal.
Yes, I got it checked. After all, my miracle cancer drug is also a literal heartbreaker. Specifically, it can disrupt the heart’s rhythm in bad ways, which would be a big bummer. But, a quick EKG showed that my wonderful heart was fine. And, my PCP turned me on to the ECG function on my Apple Watch. What a great tool for seeing if I need medical help, and a perfect example of self-care and autonomy in this cancer life that loves to throw curve balls.
And, in a rare display of maturity, I took a deep breath and abandoned the training program I’d leapt into. I moved into slow rides that would help build strength without exhausting myself. Yesterday, after almost a month, I watched my heart rate drop rapidly after finishing a more challenging workout. The rate of that heart rate drop was a sign of increasing fitness. I was so proud of myself—I’d actually changed my exercise plan without killing myself! (Not what I would have done before…)
On the way to moderation, I also took a closer look at my goals for the upcoming cycling season. Goals, goals, goals—you know what? I just want to be able to ride all day long with my DH, gracefully spinning up hills with neither fear nor dread. (HA—it’ll take a bit of work to get to that!)
I can’t tell how much of this level-headed thinking is due to looking at my age more realistically (who wants to do that?), accepting the changing parameters that come with lung cancer, or simply acknowledging that caring for family members takes time and mental energy and I just don’t have much reserve.
But also, and I think it’s important to say, sometimes lung cancer just weighs me down. I’ve been interviewing lung cancer survivors and writing up their stories for the EGFR Resistance Newsletter. What they’ve been through is hard, but their resilience and creative ways to truly live, no matter what, is breathtaking.
I have friends who are struggling with treatment-related side effects: 20- to 30-pound weight losses that leave them gaunt, or progression with 20 to 30 brain metastases and an endless fight with insurance to get coverage. They get up and go to work, they love their families, they keep looking ahead at the good things coming. They humble me.
And, I don’t want to be a Debbie Downer, but sometimes, things just feel hard, you know?
A dear friend who passed last year said he got up every day, and even when it was hard—and towards the end, it was really, really hard—he made a conscious decision to seek gratitude that day, to live as fully as he could, and to love.
And so, I think of him and I say, “Okay. I choose.” Because soon it will be 4 years since I was diagnosed. Four years!!! I am a miracle. I am loved. I am alive.
And, there are astonishing privileges in my life. We head to New Zealand tomorrow for more than 3 weeks of walking the green spaces of the North and South Islands. New Zealand! I’m going to be posting pictures as we go. Feel free to take a peek here.
I hope you are walking into some wonderful spaces in the days and weeks ahead, even if only for a few moments. Thanks for reading.
Here’s my latest baking adventure, for a child turning 10 who loves LayLay. (Who?) (I had to look it up.)
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