A Love Letter to My Body

This was a challenge from an online magazine that I read called SheLoves.  I read my friend's letter to her body and couldn't help but write one myself.  It's a pretty incredible thing to separate yourself and think of your body as an independent, feeling being.  What would you tell your body if you had the chance?

We have been through so much in the past year.  We’ve spent our lives together, but never had we had to endure such hardship.  I am so proud of you.   You have been courageous and strong.  I haven’t always treated you the best; I could have cared for you better which would have made you even stronger through this journey.  That is my shortcoming.  If there is one thing that I want from all these tough times, it’s a renewed relationship with you.  I have a new appreciation and understanding of you.  I want to eat the right things, I want to be flexible and build muscle.  I want you to feel good.  You will never look the same again.  You bore a child, nursed her, went through surgery and chemotherapy.  There is no going back.  The scars are there.  I look on them with pride.  I used to look on them as ugly marks on a beautiful canvas.  Now I see them for what they are: battle wounds, experience, a story.  They are the living proof of what we’ve been through together.  They tell the story of our battles and our experiences.  How can I look sourly on the scar that birthed my baby?  The same scar from which death and disease was taken from my body?  The two small scars that saved my life; beautiful marks from a wonderful, talented woman who stepped into my life that fateful day?  So many stories.  So many lives affected by you.  

You have been an example to so many, an inspiration.  Some say it is me that is the inspiration.  I say it is you.  If you weren’t so strong, I don’t know how I would have made it through chemotherapy.  I don’t know how I would have held up if you had crumbled under the pressure.  It was and is hard for me to watch you go through the process.  Hair falling out, nails cracked and bumpy, skin falling apart and splitting.  You have been dying through this process, yet you still stay strong for me.  I can’t thank you enough for that.  

I have always been proud of you.  I remember asking my sister if she could see the curve of my hips as you slowly developed into a woman’s form.  I loved the look of the curves, soft, supple, feminine.  I was so excited for you to transform.  It was a slow process.  I would often envy the breasts and the curves that all the other girls seemed to have while you remained flat and somewhat shapeless.  I wasn’t always patient, but you did grow into what I have always thought was a desirable shape.  Still, I had insecurities.  I didn’t always look on you fondly.  Too much fat around the bottom, not enough around the bosom.  Flabby arms, thick ankles, cellulite.  All the nit picky details that no one really ever notices unless pointed out.  I should have loved you for what you were and are.  I should have known by the way people looked at you that I was being silly.  I am still guilty of that silliness.  There have been so many changes in the last few years.  I miss your flexibility, doing gymnastics and dancing.  I miss your muscular strength.  I miss my perky breasts and tight skinned stomach.  I miss these things, but also know that some can be remedied and those that cannot are a right of passage into a different page of our story.  

There have been many pages written, many stages where I didn’t treat you properly or respect you as much as I should have.  The one thing that I am incredibly thankful for is that you are still with me.  We survived.  We have come out on the other side of a huge physical battle and we are victorious!  I congratulate you; I congratulate us.  You have taken the brunt of this battle.  You are still overcoming some symptoms, but I know, together, that we will grow stronger.  I look forward to many years shared with you.  I am so excited for gravity to continue to have it’s affect on you and for more scars that tell our story.  It is an honour and a privilege to grow old and I will cherish every wrinkle and crease knowing that our time together is precious.  




Love Always,
Annette

  

Exeunt Stage Left

My pastor reminded me tonight that I am a writer.  It sounded strange coming from someone's mouth.  It was both a confidence booster and a confirmation that writing is indeed part of my talent pool.  I know full well that I am by no means at a professional level of correspondence, however the compliments I have received since starting my blog has made me aware of a certain competence.  Please do not take this as an egotistical statement.  My head is not swelling any larger than it actually is (although my head is already a healthy 22 inches in circumference- a good inch bigger than the average female head).  The statement from my pastor made me reflect instantly on the last time I actually wrote a blog.  It's been a while.  I do enjoy the video blogs, but there is a certain clarity of thought that comes with writing things down.  It purges and cleanses the emotions.  I highly encourage everyone out there to give it a go.  Buy a journal, grab a piece of paper, sit at your computer, do whatever works for you, but for heaven's sake write!

That being said, I have decided to write a blog tonight.  It's been an interesting day.  It is Father's Day (Happy Day to all you Dad's out there!).  I found out about an hour before church that a friend of mine had passed away from cancer.  I have mentioned her before in my blogs.  We knew each other in university, her as a stage manager and myself as an unruly actor.  She had surgery within days of my surgery.  We started chemo around the same time.  She was there ready to answer questions and compare notes, to joke and bitch and complain.  Our relationship was over the internet since both of our hospital schedules didn't seem to allow the opportunity to get together for coffee.  She had a great sense of humour about the whole thing, but was still very open, honest, and 'real'.  I didn't know what to say to her half the time since her journey seemed to bring her to more pain and less options, whereas mine was leading me to a full recovery and a hope that it will never return.  Two very different outcomes.  I can't help but feel guilty to be a cancer survivor.  I know there are a lot of survivors out there, but I also know that there are a lot who don't make it.  It's a bloody war.  We all fight valiantly, but some don't make it.

Megan was so brave.  She was inspiring.  I don't know if I could have kept the smile on my face.  She dealt with it all with such grace.  It really is a credit to her character.  I randomly ran into her on Mother's Day while on an excursion to Fort Langley.  I had a feeling that would be the last time I saw her.  I was flustered and awkward and really didn't know what to say.  I was so proud of her mom and brother who were with her, protectively staying by her side.  I could sense their love for her.  I really could.

Unfortunately, from what I've gathered in my experiences, death is harder on the loved ones than the one who is passing.  I was laying awake in bed last night pondering death.  I was praising God for the fact that facing cancer has taken away my fear of it.  Death is just another momentous event in our lives.  I liken it to giving birth.  Being pregnant for the first time can be full of anxiety.  Even though you know that hundreds of thousands of millions of women have done it successfully since the beginning of time, there is still an element of the unknown to fear.  No matter what, you are entering into an experience where people may be able to help out somewhat, drugs may take away the pain, but you have to do it all by yourself.  That can be scary.  It is quite often the unknown that makes us fear.  For me, God has taken that fear away.  I had to come to terms with it the week that I was diagnosed with cancer.  I didn't know what stage I was at.  I didn't know the outcome.  Fear of the unknown.  God gave me a peace that week that rests eternal in my soul.  I know where I'm going.  I know it's a better place.  I will be sad to leave my loved ones, but I am excited for that stage of  my life.  I now know that it could be another 70 years before that time comes, but I didn't at the time of this revelation.  I had to release it, surrender it all to God.  It's not in my hands, so why worry?  I can only pray and hope that I will be as surrounded by loved ones as Megan was.  That is the way to go.  Resting peacefully in the knowledge that you are loved.

Megan- You will be missed.  Ride on, my friend, ride on...

Sunshine and Lollipops!

I woke up feeling fantastic and full of energy this morning....so I did a video blog!  I have been out all day and am now home and quite tuckered.  Shouldn't have spent all my energy.  But I couldn't help it.  It was a beautiful day and I am so happy to be alive!  Yay!

Having A Bad Day

Here is my second video blog.  I felt like I needed to be honest with the world.  I've had a rough couple of days.  This was from last night.  I am still in a bit of pain, it seems to be lingering, but my overall mood is not quite so morose this morning.  It is a new day and I can feel my body starting to bounce back, as slowly as it may seem.  My "good days" are becoming fewer and farther between while my "bad days" start to take over.  I know I have the strength to keep going, it's just tough to remember that and access it when having the really bad days.  I have God's strength at my disposal, plus the support of an amazing husband, wonderful in-laws, and many more family and friends.  I feel the support.  I feel the love.  Man, do I have a ton of respect for people who have made it through chemo already and those who have done it multiple times!  Can't wait to celebrate the day I'm DONE!!!  It will be glorious.  

My first attempt at a video blog.  Enjoy!

Remember when washing your face didn't cause nosebleeds?  Sigh.  Those were the days...

To Be or Not To Be...Stoned

I have been contemplating medication.  Like I said in my last post, I don't like to medicate, but I spent the last day and half laying in bed trying not to move too much and hoping to just sleep off the pain.  I've discovered the last couple of rounds of chemo that days 4-6 seem to be the worst for my most painful symptoms.  I have been getting this weird muscle/nerve pain all over my upper torso.  It hurts to move and it hurts to be touched.  I couldn't even stand to hold my daughter yesterday.  Once it hit, all I could do was lay there helpless.  This made me think... I'm useless anyway, I might as well be stoned.  Maybe that way the pain would at least be somewhat tolerable?  I guess the question is, what type of medication do you take for this?  I don't know.  I've had several people suggest marijuana for various reasons including appetite and nausea aids, but I feel like I can handle those problems without needing to feel the uselessness of being stoned.  I hate feeling useless.  I guess the good thing about being stoned is that you don't care if you're useful or not! Haha.  At least that's what the morphine did to me...  It also made me nauseous and constipated though, so NO WAY do I want that right now.  Methinks it is time to visit my lovely doctors... I think I need professional advice on this one :)  Wish me luck and many days free from pain- whatever way I get there...