Turning the Corner
Since my breast cancer/Chemo experience began, I have found myself repeatedly being in a position of waiting to turn the corner from an icky-sicky state to feeling vibrantly healthy, which was my pre-cancer/chemo normal.
When I am in my Chemo recovery stage I can actually visualize myself walking down a street that is dark, ominous and uncomfortable due to adverse elements surrounding me. I can do my best to protect myself from these elements, but still, I feel beaten down by them. I feel weak and not at all like myself. I long to turn the corner to a brighter, lighter place where I can feel healthy again. I know this corner will appear, but I just don’t know when.
It has been two weeks today since my last Chemo treatment and since I typically have turned the corner several days prior to now, it is easy to become impatient due to an expectation that history should have repeated itself.
Since I am so anxious to find relief I have often misinterpreted a slight bit of improvement for turning the corner, only to be right back where I started in a very short time.
When I shared this disappointing observation with my husband, in his usual quick-witted style, responded that I may turn the corner, but then I get hit by a bus.
From here we were both stimulated to come up with more examples of what can happen after I turn the corner: I turned the corner and was mugged, fell in a hole, had a piano fall on me from a second story window, got lost, was kidnapped, tripped and fell, broke my leg, washed away in a flood.
The bottom line of this lesson is I cannot force the corner to appear. I must simply be patient and trust that it will. My longing for relief and to temporarily regain my normal energy (until I repeat the whole process again) cannot over-ride the offending symptoms.
Since I am two weeks post Chemo with a countdown of one more week until this whole deal repeats itself, I am determined to simply be with what is present right now. Declaring a corner has been turned and then having a piano fall on me is far more traumatic than simply waiting for the true corner to reveal itself.