There's No More Cancer in Me OR My Blog

The past two weeks have been a blur. Drive here, take this pill, try to work, run there, get this shot, grade that, ride here, focus, don’t get stressed, swim there, hope the nosebleed stops, bonk, try not to feel queasy, sleep, wake up feeling like I didn’t . . . . all with a mild case of thymentia. (Thymentia is the term used by many thyroid patients for the foggy-headed, absentminded, forgetful feeling we all experience thanks to not having a thyroid, or having a poorly-functioning thyroid.)

On Wednesday, I got the results of my whole body scan. (Side note: mega-super-uber-huge BONK on Wednesday night. Tried to cram way too much into that day. Topic for another entry.)

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting for answers, the visit itself concluded at breakneck speed. The oncologist (who I love) basically sat down with us, opened my folder, and said, “Your scan was stone cold normal.”

I’m sure he saw the relieved/happy/confused look on my face (well, you couldn't miss the raising-my-arms-in-victory-over-my-head part), so he added, “Which is what you wanted, right?” -rhetorical question-

Of course, I agreed, and I asked my questions about when to get bloodwork, let him know about the nosebleed, etc. He said, “So just go back to your endocrinologist and follow up with me as needed.”

I blinked.

“You’re done!” he said with a smile.

Thinking about all the people I know who have scans every year or two, I stuttered, “Like . . .done? Like, I don’t have to have any more of these?”

“Yep,” he responded. “I mean, obviously, your endocrinologist will monitor your labs, but you only have to come back and see me if something looks wrong.” Then he glanced down at something in my bloodwork and frowned. “Hmmm, that’s weird,” he said.

I got this comic from a web friend -
I guess one of the authors’
wives is a breast cancer
survivor/patient.
It was an explanation
I could really identify with.

My heart stopped. “What’s weird?”

“Well, your thryglobulin antibodies are up to 4.5.”

“What does that mean?”

“They’re supposed to be zero. Do you remember what they usually are?”

“Yeah, negative-something?”

“Well, they can’t be negative, but they can be less than 1.” (Flipping through my chart quickly) “Yeah, yours look like they’ve always been less than 1.”

“So what does that mean?”

“You’ll just have to have your endocrinologist monitor your bloodwork.”

I left feeling a lot more . . . blank than I expected. I guess my emotional outpouring was long done. Don’t get me wrong, celebrations will ensue. But I realized, as the day ended, that there is a lot more to being a cancer survivor than just surviving cancer. No wonder so many people get so wrapped up in worrying about when/if it will "return."

Trying to explain the steps from patient to recovery to remission is often tricky. Sometimes people assume that remission happens as soon as the cancer is "cured." Trying to understand that yourself can also be tricky. Thyca is even more complicated, because not only do we rarely have chemo or traditional radiation like other cancer patients (which can often lead to insensitive comments like one I got this week "better than having the kind that so-and-so had!") we have bloodwork every 3-6 months regardless of whether we're "out of the woods" or not. I always say I'm going to stop blogging about how different life is after cancer, but I don't think now that I'll ever be able to stop. It is something that will affect me forever.

The reality is that you cannot dwell on it daily, although it may change and affect you daily. Becoming too wrapped up in your "status" (patient, survivor, recovery, remission, treatment, etc.) will create a never-ending circle of stress. The cancer can always, "come back," and if we spend our lives worrying about whether it does, we significantly damage the quality of the life we have left.

I have identified who I am, although I don't have a label for it yet. I have chosen to step forward. I have decided to view everything resulting from my cancer as positive and to see my cancer as a gift that enabled me to appreciate and understand so much more about myself and the world around me. I have chosen to continue training, even on the bad weeks, because exercise keeps me otherwise healthy and (as) sane (as possible).

And that, after all, is why this blog even exists.

As a final note, I've changed the theme and the tagline on my training blog. I decided I'm just an "athlete," not a "triathlete," for one. And I figured calling it Finishing Races, Beating Cancer, and Living Life gave too much power to the cancer. Yep, still going to have times when I talk about it - but that doesn't mean it makes me who I is.

We now return you to your (new and improved) regularly scheduled programming.

Forward Motion

During the hardest times of training and racing, when it feels like I'm moving at Mach Negative 16, or when another runner is struggling, I will often say this to myself or my struggling counterpart:


Any forward motion is progress.


The idea here: speed is unimportant.  Mileage is unimportant.  The goal/finish line will still be there waiting for you.  It's not going anywhere - but you are.  You're moving forward - and thus towards it.  This is something I have also learned to apply to my personal life.

This has really been one of the most meaningful, fulfilling, and challenging weeks of my life.  I feel so positive about all the progress I've made.

You'll notice I said positive, meaningful, fulfilling and challenging - not GOOD, GREAT, SATISFACTORY, etc.  That's because part of the progress I've made is in re-teaching myself not to label things and judge them. I've blogged before about undertaking this effort, almost a year ago - and, here I am, having merely planted the seed with that first blog entry, making some REAL, honest-to-goodness, forward motion with it.

CHA-ching!  (That's the emotional cashbox ringing as I fill it with positive currency.)

I've also managed to switch from updating my status on FB/Twittter every few hours to about once a day, sometimes going days without touching it.  And I have not checked in anywhere, given gratuitous information about my whereabouts, etc. - basically, I halted all the behaviors that were annoying me.   (Although Twitter doesn't give me the same aggravated feeling as FB, because a lot of the people I follow on Twitter are celebs, and they're just good for laughs.)

HUGE change in my overall outlook/feelings of happiness though.  The more space I had from FB, the better I felt: free, happy, relieved, etc.  So I decided to check out what some of my friends were doing today and see what happened.  (Yeah, real smart, I know.)  As soon as I went on and read status updates for the first time in over a week, once again, it aggravated me. 

But, I learned something about it (that it still annoys me).  So - forward motion is still progress.  I am still debating just deactivating my account altogether.

Fresh Eating is going AWESOME.  In my first week, I dropped back down 3-4 pounds to my 'triathlon training' weight, even though I have only been training about 5 hours a week.  Best of all, I feel great.  Basically, I just cut the majority of sugars and refined carbs from my diet and returned to my super-healthy roots.  I had a few beers this weekend, and twice during the week I had products with white flour, but for the most part it's whole grains, beans, veggies out the ass (literally), and so much lean, lean protein that even my little protein-craving heart feels satisfied. 

Typical breakfasts are protein smoothies with spinach, fruit and flax, oatmeal with flax, bee pollen and/or wheat germ, and egg whites.  Typical lunches are canned tuna and greens, lean chicken breasts on whole wheat buns with salads with minimal dressing, or piles of fresh steamed and raw veggies with lean beef, egg whites, chicken, or fish.  Sometimes I'll have tofu, beans, or veggie burgers instead of meat.  Lots of water and unsweetened green tea.  I even got to visit the health food store this weekend - first time in YEARS - and made beans from scratch like I used to. 

And the coolest thing next to feeling GREAT?

NO.  COUNTING.  CALORIES.
NO.  COUNTING.  POINTS.

^What this teaches a former disordered eater is that food is about FUEL, not ANGUISH.  (Again, I'm learning to drop labels . . . am I allowed to progress this much in a few weeks??!?!?)  And when fresh isn't super-available, I just make the smartest decisions I can.  Like when the guys dragged me to a burger joint that only had burgers on Saturday and I had a veggie burger with loads of veggies instead.  Did I snitch some fries?  You bet your ass I did.  But overall, just being aware of looking for the last-processed food keeps you from going overboard. 

It's about being healthy.  Weight loss is a secondary, although pleasant, effect.

Math, like food, used to be my enemy.  My GRE score once prevented me from applying to my PhD program.  But thanks to a lot of hard work with my tutor, I am knocking down some serious barriers.  I'm almost guaranteed a higher score this time, and I feel outstanding about my math skills.  (Compare this to several months ago, when I actually told a friend I thought I was one of the dumbest people on earth.)

As far as my other academic progress, I hit another major milestone in my SIOP research this week and I have a RARE BEAK right now where I can spend the next week working only on my OWN work, not student assignments or research.

My home is finally sold after too long on the market, and although I feel sad about selling it so close to buying, it is definitely for the best and I am excited about the next chapter as well as the relief of not having the responsibility.

So, everything seems to be falling together very nicely.

A new era in my life began this week . . . and forward motion ensued.

I used to be a blogger . . .

Last night, I found myself wandering through some blog entries from 5 or so years ago.   (Usually this has the tendency to depress me, but I actually enjoyed myself this time.)  Back then, I blogged on MySpace, which let me post blog entries directly to my front page and control who saw each individual entry as opposed to either sharing everything with a group or sharing nothing.

 

For one thing - boy, did I share a LOT. Names, places, dates, times.  In the interest of my profession and far-reaching philanthropic goals, and just because I’ve changed a lot as a PERSON, I really don’t share the same kind of information I used to.  Just don’t have the need, desire, or even literal ability.

 

Which is part of the other thing that struck me – how interesting my posts were.  I mean, some of my stuff was really fun to read.  

 

I got to thinking, man, what happened?  I used to be a blogger.

 

My life has changed so much in the last 5 years.  I feel like that person and this person never even lived in the same body.  Some of it is depressing; even though I lived a comfortable and sheltered life, I never realized how lucky and comfortable it WAS.  And some of it is uplifting; I am now doing every single thing I never thought I could do but always WANTED to do.  And I finally kicked all my illnesses and medications.  I’m reaching goal after goal, PR after PR.  My work life is stable and enjoyable for the first time in probably 10 years.

 

But one of the biggest things I noticed was the absolute lack of romance in my life.  I don't mean just romance as in love and relationships; I mean romance in the overarching, emotional, philosophical sense.  I had a period of helpless romanticism during my late teens and early 20s, and everything in my life was both reported and filtered through that soft hazy glow.  There is really no romance in my current life . . . at all.  It is all TCOB (Taking Care O’ Bidniss.)

 

I'm not sure how I feel about this.  On one hand, I miss romance.  I miss adventure, excitement, and feeling as if something my heart desired was just waiting around every corner.  Conversely, I feel like my current life is more realistic.  Not everything and one I encounter is automatically a transcendental figure or experience.  I’m not in any danger of someone calling me EMO.

 

But I still feel like there’s something missing.  Something I can’t quite put my finger on. And it’s not something that necessarily comes from a relationship.

 

I don't do this often, but the best way to describe it is a lyric from a song I wrote years ago: "I've been on the edge most all of my life.  Waiting for a moment, hoping for anything at all.  Falling in and out of cognizance, fading in and out of competence.  Waiting for the tears to fall.  And leaving."

 

I am.

Another Odd Thing That Both Cancer and Training Have Taught Me

I’ve written about this before, but when I first got really sick, I wasn’t prepared for peoples’ reactions.  I expected, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.  How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?” But this was the exception, not the rule.  People around you don’t always understand (and aren’t always supportive of) someone chronically ill.  I can’t even count how many times people stopped talking to me, or when they did, would say things like “Just shake it off.  When *I* have a cold, I just take some medicine and keep partying like a rock star.” 

One of my observations, which still stands, was that you can’t really blame people for reacting like this.  It’s not anyone’s responsibility to be sympathetic or their job to make me feel better.  I’m sure they also don’t know what to say.  And, in the end, everyone has to make decisions about the people they keep close, and most of us make those decisions based on how people make us feel.  Being around a sick person probably doesn’t make you feel your best. 

Now that I’ve come through some of the difficulties of my illness and am more or less on the other side, I realize how valuable that observation was.  The people who did take the time and make the effort to be supportive, even though it WASN’T their job, even though they DIDN’T know what to say, are still my strongest allies.  And they’re also some of the most positive people around me.

I used to be sad when friendships changed or came to an end.  Now something that both training AND cancer have helped me realized is that cycles are vital in our lives.  If we had the same workout or the same treatments, all the time, no matter the condition of our bodies, we wouldn’t get results.  They both have to be tailored to the obstacles we are hoping to overcome and goals we’d like to achieve.  Well, the same goes with the people in our lives; some are around for many cycles and some are around just for specific moments.

I’m going through a few of the most outstanding months of my life.  I’m not going to lie to you and tell you there haven’t been rocky patches, because life is not without those, no matter how amazing it is (especially when you’re battling health problems and trying to work several jobs).  But, overall, I end each day feeling somewhat accomplished and focused and happy.   And positive.

I’m thankful for the people who have remained positive with me, but I’m also thankful for those who have come and gone.

2011 is going to be an amazing year. I can just feel it.

Birthday Thoughts, Upcoming Half Mary, ETC

So, today is (the anniversary of) my 25^th birthday. I woke up about 6am with a bad asthma attack.  My chest was full of gunk because I am coming down with my first cold since March.  Now, you might call me crazy, but I’m really grateful, because it just reminds me that I almost never get sick anymore.  It’s so odd to not be ill when I’ve been that way every 3-6 weeks for years!

 

Truthfully, my birthday is bittersweet anyway, because it signals the end of a month-long celebration my friends and I call the International Month of Fabulousness (IMOF). (Everyone knows that only Fabulous People were born during November!  DUH!) Now the Christmas and New Year’s seasons loom ahead of me, and this year (again) I may not have the chance to see my parents.  (Although this isn’t the end of things; I have a plan in the works.)

 

So my thought today was kind of like . . . I feel like crap on my birthday . . .  EVEN SO, it’s a great day.

 

I race on Saturday, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I feel better fast.  This year, I’ve scored PRs at every single distance – no reason to think this weekend’s half marathon won’t be the same, as long as I rest for the first few days this week.

 

Then this e-mail came from a coworker who sends out the best inspirational e-mails daily.  I thought it was fitting.

 

Monday, November 29, 2010

Even so

Some days it may seem that your actions are not very effective.

Even so, the best thing you can do is to keep doing all you can.

Sometimes it may feel that although you care deeply about the world,

the world does not care much about you.

Even so, it is much better that you continue to care.

 

There will be times when you give all you have,

and end up with nothing to show for it.

Keep giving though, for the rewards are surely there,

even if they are too profound for you to see just yet.

The disappointments may sometimes be so painful that you feel like giving up.

Remember though, it is your caring that makes the disappointment possible,

and that very same caring will pull you up and push you forward.

Though you may be reluctant to admit it,

you can make any situation into a

valuable, successful experience.

 

You can live with love,

joy and fulfillment even

when everything seems

to be pushing against you.

The circumstances of this moment

may not feel particularly desirable.

 

Even so, there is a beautiful

treasure that's yours to give,

and yours to live in this very place,

on this very day.

-- Ralph Marston

You can live with love, joy and fulfillment even

when everything seems to be pushing against you.

 

Halloween is Scary. Cancer is Scarier.

First of all . . . thanks for bearing with me a few nights ago while I whined my face off.  I got up today and had a nice leisurely ride with my riding buddy Lisa (instead of going the full 34 miles with the Seminole Cyclists) just to make sure I’m up to speed.

 

Sunday and Monday I’m resting, and Monday, I’m going in for bloodwork in the hopes that the endo will see me 2 weeks early.

 

And I’m preparing today for my 1^st Annual BBQ to Beat Cancer! 

This Year, I'm Taking Uncle Bill to Mardi Grass

I was about 6.  The giant ferris wheel at the Bay Beach Sanctuary in Green Bay, Wisconsin loomed before me.

Now, this next part you will NEVER believe.

<i>I was petrified.</i>

I have attempted 3 marathons, over a dozen triathlons and dozens more road races.  I was a public speaking ace in college.  I ride motorcycles. I work three jobs.

I am the last person anyone would expect to be terrified of a ferris wheel.

But I was.

That is, until Uncle Bill got involved.  Uncle Bill convinced me that getting on thay ferris wheel was EXACTLY what I needed to do. And I wasn't buying it, especially as we rounded that first seemingly endless drop and my stomach fell somewhere down around my toes.

And then the unthinkable happened.

WE STOPPED AT THE TOP.

Convinced I was facing certain death, I clutched Uncle Bill's hand with an iron grip. Then, as the steel terror machine creaked into inevitable motion, he giggled and looked at me, and I will never forget what he said. 

In the voice of a toddler watching fireworks for the first time, Uncle Bill pointed at the breathtaking view and cooed, "Ooooh! AAAAAHHHH!"

I burst into laughter. I haven't met a ferris wheel or roller coaster I didn't love since that day.

My mom's older brother, one of many uncles, was a kid trapped in an adult body. No one had a bad time around Uncle Bill. Everything made him smile.

Which is the extraordinary part. You see, Uncle Bill fought many battles in his life. Korea. Alcoholism.  Fatherhood. The economy.

Lung cancer was the only one he didn't beat.

I am forever in debt to this man. It is because of him that I see tasks which are daunting and even terrifying as challenges, and, more importantly, opportunities to HAVE FUN.

And so, it seems only fitting that I undertake a fundraising effort in his honor as I, also a cancer survivor, embark upon a journey to complete my 3rd marathon. For I would never be here without him.  And I cannot think of anyone who would have more fun in New Orleans with me. Because, although he may not, his spirit of fun, fearlessness and enthusiasm for life live on.

I will be raising funds and awareness for the American Cancer Society at the Mardi Gras Marathon in New Orleans, Louisiana, on February 13, 2011.
I hope you'll join me and Uncle Bill in any way you can.

Love,

MAJ

I'm Still Alive

.......stay tuned. 

MAJ

Oh, the Places You'll Go

Congratulations!

Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.

You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

-Dr. Suess, c. 1990


I stepped back and looked at the overall picture of this week's training, and I can't even explain how pleased I am. I see yoga, strength, bricks, long rides, babying a sore toe without going overboard on rest OR runs, and an openwater swim tomorrow. I did it all while managing a full-time job, two very part-time positions, a social schedule, a relationship, my medicines, and baby-sitting my friend's dogs . . . . and I was relatively successful at all of it.

Never in a million, bazillion years did I ever, EVER, EVER think it was possible.

I am SO amazed and proud of myself. And, more importantly, I feel incredibly grateful and blessed.


I'm even grateful for the cancer. In many ways, it taught me what I needed to get where I am now.


When I look at my recent blog entries compared to those just a few short months ago, I can't get over what a phenomenal difference I see. But when I look at my blog entries compared to those from my first few years of training, the difference is even clearer. I am more well-rounded now, as an athlete AND an individual, than I ever dreamed I could be.

Remember the girl who was so incredibly stressed about working and going to school that she feared she'd completely shut down if she had to do both? Remember the girl so afraid of her own drama that it bled all over her life, from her face to her Facebook? Remember the girl who agonized about how to reconcile the girlie-girl with the tomboy, the social butterfly with the athlete?

She stopped agonizing about HOW and just . . . . DID.


I also realized, looking back, that not only did I struggle through some awfully bitter and emotionally exhausting moments, that the pressure to report on and blog about my training became more important to me than actually putting in the training. When I took a break from triathlon, I wasn't only exhausted with trying to keep up the training and my life in general, but also by trying to keep up with reporting it!

Today my followers are fewer and farther between. My blog doesn't appear on anyone's "most read" list (largely because it's been private off and on while I decided what to share and hide.) And I'm completely okay with that. Those of you who follow me actually represent some of my best e-friends, tri-friends, and real-life friends.

I love to blog now because it's fun, and it's relaxing, and it's exciting to stay in touch with the tri-e-thletes I've come to know and love over the internet. But I don't care if I miss a few days, or even a few weeks, or - hell - a few months.

I know now that I've always had brains in my head, and feet in my shoes, and I could ALWAYS go anywhere I'd choose.


But I guess I finally, truly, realized that I am the guy who decides where I go.


And oh, the places I'll go.

Being satisifed in life is about more than just finding what you like and doing it. It's remembering that every single step you take is a step forward, and that every step forward, no matter how miniscule, moves you toward known and unknown goals. The second you realize that every step is positive forward motion, the less your tasks feel like to-dos and the more they feel like want-to-dos. And, if no matter how hard you try, they still feel like TO-DO's, then maybe you need to revise your goals.

I did . . . and it brought me right back to where I started.

And I suddenly don't care about how slow I am compared to others, or if I finish a race last, or if I make a mistake here and there. Everyone else is too worried about their own times to care about mine, I'm the only person for whom my finishes really matter, and the people who are able to help me along in my journey will know that a mistake or two builds character and teaches important lessons.

This is the beginning of a lifelong journey. This is the rebirth of a future stronger, and brighter, and more promising, than anything I have ever had or imagined having.

There will be still be challenges;I will still be alone at times. I'll still fail; I'll still falter. I'll still face dark times, and anger, and tears, and sadness. But I will face it all knowing how very far I've come.

And oh, the places I'll go.

Confession: I Don't Think I Need to Blog to Try to Be Positive Anymore

Today's a rest day.  I worked 9-5 but got home after 8.  Tomorrow is a 3-sport day and I already have water bottles prepped and in the fridge!  Wish me luck.  I've got a lot of things going on, so I'm sure things will be happening like crazy and I may need to swap workouts from time to time.  (Today I inserted my own rest day after 4 back-to-back tough days and long days at work.)

 

Just 8 months ago, I didn't know how I was handling just working and going to school.  Some days, I don't know how I'm doing what I am, and how all of this good stuff has fallen into my lap.  I'm not complaining, but it sure does amaze me.

 

I mean, for all intents and purposes, I should be a terrible failure.
 
I had this conversation with a friend of mine today who knows my story as good as, or better than, anyone on the interwebs.  He, too, faces dozens of obstacles.  So he knows, perhaps better than anyone here, that every day there are any number of reasons when I could easily, logically, understandably, give up.  I could be dejected, discouraged, negative, or bitter - and no one would really blame me. 
 
As anyone who reads my other blog knows, I've been there recently enough to know how it feels, why it feels that way, and how difficult it is to overcome.
 
But that's also how I know that it is a CHOICE.  And it's also how I know this: no matter what you do, no matter what you are, no matter what you are up against, choosing to be positive about it will ALWAYS, and I mean ALWAYS, make you feel better.  You could have no job, home, money, or friends - but, if you find something that makes you smile in life (something to reach for, the tiniest thing to believe in) - your quality of life will improve.  And the better you feel, even marginally, the better you WILL feel going forward.  Positivity and negativity feed on each other exponentially.
 
I'm not talking about being a Pollyanna.  You won't help yourself by blindly believing that millions will fall from the sky into your bank account while you sit on your ass watching soap operas.  And no, being positive won't instantly make everything in your life perfect.  But what it will do is increase your resiliency - your ability to bounce BACK from the bad/disappointing/frustrating/sad.  This is not just me talking out my arse, here - scholarly sources suggest a significant correlation between positive affect and resiliency.

Having it all didn't get me to where I could improve at triathlons and get TA jobs and find an employer that left me alone; neither did losing it all.  You know what got me there? Me belief that trying to make things better eventually WOULD, even in the tiniest way, make things better. 
 
It was easy to be positive when I had it all.  It is NOT easy to be positive now. 
 
But that's what makes it all the more satisfying when I succeed.

Stressfest

Every now and then, I have a string of days filled with so many expectations, plans, obligations and deadlines that I eventually have a mini-breakdown trying to figure out how to deal with it all.

 

I think of this particular occurrence as The Stressfest.

 

It went down like this: last night I got out of work at 9 and, by the time I ate and started looking at assignments, it was midnight.  There were still 7 loads of laundry on my bed, the B kindly made dinner but the kitchen was still messy, various rooms in the house needed tidying and I hadn’t gotten anything graded.  I had to be up at 7 to get ready for work, and then after work I was planning my workout. Now, I LOVE my 8:30 - 5:30 day at work.  It gives me a chance to work out at night.  Then B informed me that he had booked us for dinner at 6, so I had no option of working out after work. 

 

And I’ve already had 2 rest days this week, so I was ready to rumble.  This unexpected dinner plan meant I had to get up at 5am to work out.  Ok on race day; not so much on a night when I don’t get to bed until after 12.

 

I set my alarm for 5; sleep through it; can’t find any of my clothes because they’re all on the bed; realize I have only 2 pair of pants to my name (1 that doesn’t really fit and 1 that has a broken zipper); the shoes I pick are a little too big, but I never gave them away because they’re just so cute I couldn’t bear to do it, but I forget every time I go to wear them; I come home at lunch to change and burst into tears.

 

A couple hours later, an unsuspecting coworker who always sends out great quotes forwarded me an email with this familiar Thoreau verse in it:

 

“I have learned that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams,

and endeavors to live the life he has imagined,

he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”

–Henry David Thoreau

 

Well, sh1t.  That’s exactly what the crap I’m doing. 

 

I’m not saying that this completely relieves the burden, but it sure does help.  And that won’t come without some hard work.  Some days I’m going to be tired and have too much to do.  Some days things will Just Have to Wait.

 

But I’m definitely endeavoring to live the life I have imagined.  So how about we change The Stressfest to The Successfest?

 

Confession: I Finally Believe That Hard Work and Faith DO, Eventually, Pay Off

I feel like I’m living in a dream. I can’t believe I’m actually doing work at THREE different colleges. Working in academia, especially doing research and teaching, is my lifelong dream. If you’d told me I’d have been doing ALL THREE, after everything that’s gone down, AND this soon after receiving my BA, I’d have laughed at you. I am so, so, so, so, SO immensely grateful for all that’s transpired for the past few years, even the bad.

I don’t know what higher power you believe in, or if you believe in one at all, but I am firmly, eternally convinced that there is some order to the universe. (Please ask me to return to this entry when I get down in the future J ) There are a lot of lessons I’ve learned only through experience; all the advice in the world didn’t make a difference until I just struggled through it.

One of those lessons is that we all have drama. Some of us are more quiet about it; others take a BALLS OUT approach. Either way, I’ve learned that the more you dwell on your drama/demons, the more power you give them over your life.

People always used to tell me to just acknowledge them and move on; I never knew how to do that. The approach that makes the most sense to me is this: talk with a few select people about your troubles, issues, drama, demons, problems, etc. (Your therapist, your spouse, your parents, your mentor – whoever is the best at opening your eyes and enabling you to see past them). Find yourself a solution. If there is no solution, find yourself some acceptance.

Then DROP IT AND MOVE ON.

And by DROP it, I MEAN DROP IT. Don’t blog about it. Don’t Facebook about it. Don’t text about it )except to aforementioned spouse/parent/mentor). I don’t care WHAT you have to do, once you have found as much of a solution as you can find, do ANYTHING but FOCUS on it. Instead, find something else really absorbing and healthy to focus on. It will move you forward AND it will provide you with enough perspective to recover from it . . . eventually.

Eckhart Tolle put it best . . .

Wherever you are, be there totally.

If you find your here and now intolerable and it makes you unhappy,

you have three options:

remove yourself from the situation, change it, or accept it totally.

When I grow up

There's a Pussycat Dolls song that goes (pp), "when I grow up, I wanna be famous,  I wanna be a star, I wanna have groupies..."

I'm not saying all that, but I do know that what I want to be "when I grow up" hasn't changed all that much.  I've always wanted my PhD. And I've always wanted to combine my hobbies with my work.

Before my health shenanigans, I was sure I'd get involved in triathlon and coach someday.  Afterwards,  I realized that wasn't so feasible.  It's almost as if the gods slapped me in the middle of industrial psychology right around that time in order to show me something I was really capable of doing, and well.

But research and teaching positions are both hard to come by unless you're a full-time student.  So I never thought I'd make it happen. And competition for a spot at the PhD program I'm eyeing is stiff.

This fall I will begin my post-bach research and teaching in industrial psychology, and my aim is to score higher on the GRE and do two things: 1)earn entrance into a PhD program and 2)combine my loves for education, org development, sports, and research. 

It all seems So exciting and So real.

Just like this weekend's race, you never know what you're capable of until you try.

Did You Miss Me?

“Did you miss me?”

 

When I was a kid, I remember my mom coming back from errands and asking my dad this question.  The answer (“Were you gone?”) is what I’m sure you’re asking yourself, because I know you weren’t even aware I was missing.  But wow . . . I stopped blogging for what seems like a second, and almost a month has gone by.  So I feel like I need to do a little catch-up.

 

Let’s start with the big stuff: the pap test results were confirmed – no malignancy.  The chances of another cancer were so small, but it’s good to be positive before celebrating.  Turned out to be odd cells with weird nuclei, which apparently happens sometimes.  Next, I got a new job.  (YAY!)  I made myself a deal that, if I ever feel like blogging about this one, I start looking for something else IMMEDIATELY.  In other words, if a job that’s not your career takes over your personal life to the point where you have to rant about it openly, even when you’re not there, you need a new one.  Also, I’m starting some research this week – I’m helping with a driving study for one of the local colleges.  I need the experience for grad school so that someday I DON’T have to blog about my job (that is, unless I’m running a study on blogging.)

 

I’m going through this phase right now where I’m trying to figure out what’s best for me.  I know there’s no perfect job, relationship, car, etc . . . but it would be nice to feel a little more confident that there was one that was at least the BEST for ME, even at the time.  I think this goes back to making too many value judgments . . . I just need to let it go and let it be, right?

 

Thinking of doing a mock tri this weekend . . . otherwise real race NEXT WEEKEND! Baby taper . . . this is just a B race.  Have to sign up for the A still (before it sells out, I hope.)

 

That’s all I got for today.

Confession: I'm Not Scared Shitless

Today the ob/gyn called to tell me that my pap results came back abnormal. This means he needs to do further testing to determine the cause of the abnormality. There's a small chance the cells could be pre-cancerous - not a high chance that they're cancer already, because I visit him every year, and it's only been 15 months since my last visit to him when he tied my tubes in 2009 - but still.

At first, I was terrified. The last thing I need is MORE cancer. And I am waiting on my COBRA packet because I just elected that coverage yesterday, so who knows what health care costs and arrangement could even BE right now.

After about an hour of arranging things in the new office, searching jobs on indeed.com, and thinking about when to get to the pool or lift weights (it was raining cats and dogs this morning and moving wore me out), I realized. . . .

I'm really not scared.

I mean, suppose it is cancer. I have that already. That's (pardon the Butterfield reference) the familiar enemy. I know what it is, what it does, and how to handle it. I have kicked its ass once before, and I can kick its ass again. And I'm not dying from it . . . I'm living with it. There's a diffrence.

And if it's not cancer? It's just another fluke. Which I can also handle. In my life, abnormalities are normal.

It Was the Best of Times . . . It Was the Worst of Times.

At least once in our lives, we have one of those luminous moments where fate, coincidence, or both completely juxtapose our previous perspectives. This past week, I was gifted with such a moment.

I've previously blogged about my laundry list of misfortunes. Indeed, that laundry list is the very inspiration for this blog, which I started because I was determined to abandon my bitterness and embarassment about the recent state of my life by exploring what was once my trademark characteristic: optimism. Yet, just last week I was presented with another such misfortune: I, and all my hourly counterparts, were laid off (some of us with severance, some without.)

Now, following the logical progression of the last few years' events, one would think that joblessness would send me spiraling downward toward despair and cynicism, especially given the nature of the events (bad pregnancies, financial ruins, elective and then cancer surgery and chronic illness). For some reason, however, it didn't.

Quite the opposite.

Maybe it was the promise of a fresh new start, of a new career, of meeting new people, of more mental stimulation. (For one thing, in this economy, the layoffs weren't really a shock.) Perhaps it was the idea of being able to reinvent myself, put pictures of my boyfriend on my desk for the first time in almost 2 years, or because I've already had promising interviews. Whatever the reason, despite my obvious initial shock and occasional depression, I cannot stop feeling overwhelmingly . . . . free.

I feel really fortunate. It really wasn't the worst thing that could happen. I still have an extremely supportive significant other, lots of friends, and a handle on my cancer. My family is relatively healthy and happy. I graduated from college. I finished another marathon. I've been hitting my workouts for weeks.

It's almost as if I've been given a chance to truly start over. And I welcome it with open arms.

To the next chapter.

Confession: I Used to Hate Weddings

Confession: I used to hate weddings.

 

I mean, think about it: they’re usually a clusterfuck.  I’m respectful of tradition and rituals – to use an example from the weekend, I don’t take communion in a Catholic church because I was baptized protestant, more out of respect for the church’s traditions than concern for myself.  But weddings are frequently more about vanity than tradition, and they’re not terribly efficient.  You spend (waste) entirely too much money on an event that lasts one day and leaves you with nothing but pictures and a big mess to clean up.  Oh, and a dress you’ll never be able to (or want to) wear again (which, by the way, is the most uncomfortable dress you’ll ever wear, and which you must size up at least two full dress sizes to purchase, and in which no one usually looks attractive unless she is a real-life size 6 or smaller).  Then you get forced to take pictures of yourself doing things you’d never do in real life, and no matter how uncomfortable you feel about how you look, those pictures are there forever and people will beg you to see them for the rest of your life.  You have to get the two families together, even if they’ve never met before, narrow down a guest list, pick a wedding party (during which process someone always gets pissed because they got left out), and nail down all these tiny details like favors and food and cake flavors and ring bearers – any one of which could entirely wreck the day, which is supposed to be one of the most important of your life.

 

It gives me the vapors.

 

But I went to a wedding this weekend that turned out pretty nicely.  I was the best man’s date, so I’d been highly involved in the planning, and to see something that had been such a drain and source of stress turn out so beautifully was really quite  . . . . uplifting (aside from the fact that I caught a guest texting IN CHURCH during COMMUNION in the MIDDLE OF WEDDING MASS.  WHO DOES THAT?)

 

It left me thinking that there are a lot of things in life which seem initially stressful, depressing, inefficient and frustrating, but that turn out inspirational, enjoyable, encouraging, and satisfying.  So, maybe from now on, instead of judging everything by how useless the process seems, I’ll try to focus instead on the peaceful image of that lovely day where it all comes together and turns out (more or less) just right.

Confession: I Try to Understand Everything

I’ve had a difficult week struggling with my demons. They’re things I’m not really proud of, but they’re on my mind and I have to get them off my chest. One of them is that I cling to the past. (That’s a demon to battle another day.) I also realized I’m sometimes defensively judgmental – on other words, I subconsciously judge because I think I’m being judged. (Also a demon to battle another day). The one that keeps rearing its ugly head, though, is that I’m frustrated about my condition. Since that’s directly tied to another demon, it makes the most sense to mention it right now.

See, it’s often hard to make other people understand that my fatigue is different than being tired or sleepy. Even when I’m so tired that my muscles ache from exhaustion, and I’ve explained the situation over and over, the compassion of those around me is limited.

In part, I can’t blame them. First of all, no one can be compassionate all the time. Second, the compassion or pity of others isn’t a necessity – it’s a luxury. Third, I’m not even sure I WANT pity or compassion. And finally, no one really understands, and I can’t even expect them to remember that I’m ill. I mean, even El Senor (who lives with me) will say things like, “Why are you so tired? You slept 11 hours last night.” Also, I work with a pretty . . . . shall we say . . . unique group of people – as I’ve mentioned before, I’d love to blog about my job. One of my issues with them is their misplaced (or lack of) concern for other human beings. I’ve seen them take bets against someone’s sales efforts succeeding and call a hospital when they think someone is staying there (because they all agree that no, there is no way this person could be telling the truth about being sick.) It’s just how they are.

But there are still times when I just wish I could make people around me understand.

I realized this morning that my frustration is as much with myself as it is with them. Even I don’t understand my cancer, my hypothyroidism, my other health issues. This has been a great source of recent anger and bitterness; as I mentioned before, I’ll often blame myself for being lazy when I’m sick. I have an issue with being over-analytical; I’m a bit anal-retentive and I’m calmer when I’m well-organized. I know even my health is better when my life is neater and simpler. So, I like to understand everything, compartmentalize it all, give it all a nice little label.

It hit me today that, not only is it impossible for me (or anyone else) to understand everything, it’s also unnecessary. Some things happen that we’ll never understand, and wasting time trying to figure them out could rob us of the experience and/or lesson. And, when I think about it, the mystery of some memories and occasions only makes them more beautiful and remarkable.

For me, trying to understand everything is often a barrier to progress, as well - because it sometimes prevents me from just accepting things as they are. It also leads me down the dark road of being judgmental. This usually stems from my need to identify, understand, and label all of the things and people I encounter.

Seems like I am spending an awful lot of energy doing this for things and people I’ll never be able to, or truly need to, fully understand.

So my goal, even if it’s just for today, instead of trying to analyze, understand, or force things into a category or compartment – is to try to accept all things as they are.

Distance, Ups, and Downs

Being without a thyroid is a pain in the ass. 

 

One reason?  It’s the major gland that controls a lot of the hormones that regulate emotions.  Right now, my body doesn’t realize I’m on synthetic hormone, so I have periods where I’m not only extra tired but also extra  . . . . everything.  Sad, frustrated, depressed, struggling – everything. 

The thing is, none of this is NEW for me; I’ve been handling it for over 7 years.  (So that means I should be an expert at dealing with it, right?)  But there are days when I just can’t get the pieces to fit.  My poor boyfriend and friends get to hear me whine a lot about how upset I am.  El Senor (literally translated, The Mister) will sometimes ask me, “Why so many ups and downs?”

 

Good things have been happening the past few days.  I’ve gotten very far into my workout schedule, and I’m training again for a mini-triathlon.  It started with a 1km openwater swim on Saturday that took me back to the very first place I ever did an openwater swim.  It was a spiritually cleansing and revitalizing experience.  I made huge progress moving things into my boyfriend’s house.  I went to watch him play paintball for the first time, since he came to watch me swim for the first time.  I got on the trainer for almost 40 minutes last night and did a hill workout, then did strength for another 20 minutes.  Last night I did a stride run.  I shouldn’t mention that I then sat around and beat myself up for 30 minutes about why I was so stiff and it only lasted 1.3 miles.  I’ll be joining a Master’s swim group again when I can.

 

There is so much that’s not under my control.  I am aware that I should not try to control all things, as I will never be able.  But it’s hard to see one’s progress when one is standing in the midst of it.  Sometimes, what is required is distance.

Confession: I Have Nothing Positive to Say Right Now.

I’ll be back when I adjust my attitude.