Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Real Talk Tuesday

Real talk Tuesday.

In 2012 I started a journey. I worked really hard to not be overweight. I worked really hard to be able to run half marathons, and do a 5k a few times a week to help maintain a healthy weight. I worked really hard to not be the person who made jokes to hide behind being uncomfortable in my body. I worked really hard to gain a balanced mindset of not being completely obsessed with food, yet being mindful of what’s going in and how it’s burned as fuel. I worked really hard to be comfortable in my own skin. Not skinny, but strong. I worked really hard to be physically and mentally strong. I worked hard to not size up a room to see if I was the biggest person there. I worked really hard to not feel judged for treating myself once a week. I worked really hard.
I went from running half marathons to......
Wearing long tops, black leggings, and layers-mostly to hide any leaks from my Depends. Oh and carrying more weight on my body and IN the giant bag with all the Depends and a change of clothes.


Cancer has taken a lot from me. However, I am bound and determined that it will NOT permanently derail the mindset I worked so hard to overcome. I am 37lbs heavier than I was when I first walked into the oncology office. NONE of my old clothes fit. I am heavy and tired. If I’m honest, sometimes I am tempted to give up-to feel sorry for myself and just sit down permanently.

When you think of cancer you think of someone bald, gaunt, and puking. THANKFULLY this was NOT me. Except for the puking. There was some puking but mainly heartburn and constipation from the pit of hell. I got through treatment with minimal weight gain-I mean I was really bloated from medication but felt like it was manageable and that I would be back to myself in no time.
Fast forward to after treatment, I was working really hard to get back to feeling like me again. The fatigue was so intense that it was a constant struggle to stay active and continue normal day to day activities. BUT I started working with an oncology trained nutritionist and making head way learning what was best for my post cancer body.  About the time I started gaining some momentum, I found out I still had cancer and needed surgery. The radical hysterectomy left my hormones jacked up and my body in a state of “woah” it had not had before. THEN, I had the abscess and THEN the fistula developed. Final result...my body is a mess. And guess what? Friday...like three days from now...I have another surgery. My stomach will be opened yet AGAIN and this time my leg is going to be messed up for a while since they are grafting tissue. <sigh>

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking what I keep trying to tell myself. YOU ARE ALIVE. All of the above. All of it. It had to happen in order for me to live. However, it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, when you’re in the midst of this battle for your mind. What I mean by that is that I feel like there is a constant battle for “how” I talk to myself. Yes, I realize that I am alive and here. The last thing I want to do is minimize that miracle. However, if I’m being real-being in my body right now is hard. It doesn’t look or feel the way it did before cancer and menopause. I had never experienced feeling like the vessel I’m in, isn’t me... until now. However, if I really think about it-it is very much me. It is where I am right now. It is what I have right now.

Cancer left me with a vessel that feels broken down, heavy, and tired. It’s going to get a little worse before it gets better, but it’s going to get better. There is a plan forward.

Had to document what I hope to be my last purchase of Depends for a LOOONG time!!
FORWARD!!!




Monday, March 6, 2017

The Walking Dead

We are well into March and as I prepare for my upcoming surgery, I can’t help but think of where I was one year ago. Time has just stood still for the past 13 months but yet so much has happened. I don’t know if that even makes sense, to most people. Surely those who have experienced some sort of trauma or life altering event, has felt the same?  In many ways my world completely stopped, yet a lifetime of crap just happened.
This time last year, I was getting ready to start chemotherapy and radiation. I was terrified but the thing I struggled with most was the fact that I may loose my hair. I was scared of dying and fighting death, while bald. Man. Looking back, I would take being temporarily bald over most of what has happened to me over the last year. I had no idea how much treatment would change my body and psyche and I certainly didn't expect infertility, sexual dysfunction, incontinence, bladder and bowel issues, just to name the major ones. Right now, I am cancer free but having such a hard time with post radiation side effects, that I am having to fight for the joy that I am “supposed” to feel about not having cancer. My counselor has talked to me a lot about these “supposed to” statements that I tell myself often. (I do this in almost every area of my life). If she were sitting here with me this morning, she would say, “Holly, why do you feel like you are supposed to feel a certain way? It’s not wrong to be mad that you’re dealing with this.” To which, I would say say through tears, “I know, but I feel like I should just be happy that I’m not dying anymore, what’s wrong with me?” And she would be her usually awesome self and tell me that nothing is wrong with me and it’s completely okay to be happy that I’m not dying AND mad that I’m facing another surgery and that each day, right now is hard and a fight.


It’s weird. It makes me think about The Walking Dead. I have this odd relationship with the TWD because last year when I started treatment, is when I started watching it. It was one of my “things” that got me through. I know that probably sounds completely ridiculous if you’ve never been sick and home-bound, but trust me, it was one of my “things” like Chick-Fil-A. (Chick Fil-A was one of the only things that tasted good to me on chemo, and every week I would go right after treatment. The radiation people even knew that I would be late on Thursdays because I had chemo and I WAS going to Chic-Fil-A, even if it meant that I would have to be worked in at radiation). BUT I digress.

In TWD world a lot of people don’t make it. It is a harsh world of daily survival. Some just don’t have the fight in them. Some opt out, deciding to take their own life. Some go down swinging. We all would like to think we would be a “Rick” and rise to the occasion,be a leader, and kick so much ass in the process. BUT as we have seen in season 7-even the toughest dudes are being challenged. In many ways, it would just be easier to die because living in that world is so incredibly hard. In the last part of the mid season finale, Michonne talks to Rick, who is wanting to give up. He feels like it would just be easier to give up on having a life that means anything, and just exist under Negan(who is basically an evil warlord). She gives this amazing monologue about how much they have been through, yet they are still there-together and alive. They are outnumbered and have lost so much. They shouldn’t have lived this long, but they have. How do they make being alive mean something?

That scene has resonated with me since October.
I have literally thought about it every day.


I feel like I live in TWD sometimes. Most days, it would just be easier to give up. I know there are people who have it much worse, and I “should” just exude only gratefulness and get over myself. My heart is grateful for my very life, but I am learning more and more each day, that having life and living are two completely different things. You can be alive but not living. How do you make being alive mean something than just existing? I could very well not be here. I could very well have died from cancer or complications from treatment. I didn’t. I could have died in the fall when my body was on the verge of sepsis, but I didn’t. Any day, cancer could come back and I could find myself deep in the fight again, but that hasn’t happened. It may never happen. Am I wounded and afraid of the next chapter?  Have I seen and experienced more in 13 months than many do in a life span? Yes. But I am here. And what I choose to do with being here-depends on me. What I choose.


I feel like almost every blog has just been repetitive of the last, with me beating the dead of horse of “choice.” BUT when I set out to share my story, I vowed to be honest and I feel like I am constantly having to learn and relearn this lesson.I just can’t reiterate enough that this is daily-at least for me. At least for this season. I have to constantly choose living and when I fail-retreat and stay at home because it's just too hard to make it for the day-either physically or emotionally- I have to then choose grace over guilt, mercy over shame. I can be really hard on myself when I fail at this or anything, really. BUT cancer and life after cancer is teaching me so much about grace and mercy,  for myself-even for others. I never expected for cancer to make me less judgmental.


My hope is, that by my being transparent in this whole process and things I am continuing to learn-that someone else might say, “me too!” to anything that I write about. Whether you are a cancer survivor or not. Maybe you find yourself struggling with the hand life has dealt you or maybe you are reading this and thinking, you’re good and have a decent grip on life. Maybe you struggle with self imposed guilt or silently being judgmental towards others. I don’t know. I do know there is strength in self reflecting and allowing yourself to be teachable. There is strength in asking yourself hard questions, especially when you know you’re not going to like the answer. Or maybe you have to sit with not knowing the answers, and that’s okay too.
Courage is digging for bravery in a world where living is the harder choice. Retreating and just existing is so much easier than flourishing, but where is the courage in that? Anyone can do that. And for what? I want to make my being here mean something.


Part of my flourishing in pain, is telling my story. I had the opportunity to do this for the first time, at the end of February at the NCCC-Fort Worth Chapter fundraiser. Here I am with several new friends, and cervical cancer survivors.



**I designed a t-shirt to help begin conversations about cervical cancer and prevention. All proceeds will go to help me with past and current medical expenses/unpaid leave. Please consider purchasing a shirt or making a donation. THANK YOU!
www.bonfire.com/start-the-conversation/
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