The Road Home-Part two

  
"We've been through...some things together.  With trunks of memories still to come.  We found things to do... in stormy weather. Long may you run"  Neil Young "Long May You Run"
  

    I'm pretty sure this song is about an old hearse Neil drove during his early days in Canada, but the lyrics just fit my mood these days.  I have lots of great memories of my life so far, but...there are "trunks of memories still to come".  I plan on filling those trunks.
    This Monday, Nov.12, marks four weeks post operative for me. I add this tag because, in my mind, the cancer process started Aug. 30th...D-Day.  The day my diagnosis was delivered was when my "process" began.  It isn't all about the physical effects of cancer. In fact, for me, most of the adjustments are emotional and spiritual.  We all die.  Some early in life and some in old age.  Sometimes death comes slowly.  Sometimes it happens abruptly.  But...we all die.  If it happened now, for me, I have some peace with things.  My focus has become the use of time I'm fortunate to have...now.  My diagnosis has caused me to ponder more.  It isn't just the imminent struggle or needs of the day.  It's more...what do I do with my gifts, my heart, my moments from here on.  Have I acheived what I was created to do.
    Each week has provided improvements. Physically I'm getting stronger and experiencing less fatigue.  I do enjoy my afternoon naps, but I am less dependent on them.  If my schedule doesn't allow for it, I don't have to rest to make it through the day.  I may go to bed early that night, but I don't "crash and burn" mid-day.  The daVinci method sort of creates a skewed expectation that less trauma has occurred during surgery. And, indeed, at the incision point it is much less invasive.  Internally, though, the same organs, vessels, and tissues are still removed and require considerable recuperation.  When they say recovery takes four to six weeks, they are pretty accurate.  I have been fairly active for a couple weeks, but no lifting.  I run errands, I drive back and forth to town, I do light duty house chores such as dishes and cooking, but no heavy work.  I can sense the damage it would cause if I did too much, and I definitely don't want to repeat this process.  I started doing some excercises... push ups, leg lifts, and stretching, after three weeks, but nothing more.  Oh yeah, Kegel Exercises as well.  They started before the surgery and resumed as soon as the catheter was removed.  They are VERY important, and necessary...if you are interested in not wetting your pants or wearing "diapers" the rest of your life.  Be very serious about these efforts and your quality of life will be measurably better.
    As for my emotional health,well...that has required a different approach.  First, as I have stated before,  I lean markedly on the side of anxiety.  I fret.  I worry.  I work hard to preempt events that I think are coming.  In other words, I stress over things that haven't happened yet. You can imagine how this trait of mine went into overdrive when I received my diagnosis.  As I moved deeper into the process I found two areas that can be labeled as "controllable".  One is the ability to rework my diet and exercise, and the other is the ability to focus on my "internal" or mental processes.  There is no way to eliminate cancer from my body...if in fact it was not fully removed through surgery.  Eliminated by me, I mean. Only time can reveal the truth here.  I can "train" myself to focus on the things I can control.  Things that really do matter.  I can improve my odds considerably by consuming the healthiest possible diet.  Modern science has a tremendous amount of data here that is proven to make a difference not only in the prevention of future disease but in curing the current ailments that we may have.  I can improve the fitness level I have and that not only improves the odds for good future health but greatly improves the quality of life I experience now.  Finally, and maybe most importantly, I can build hope on all the small victories I encounter along the way.  My surgery and subsequent pathology reports, my overall improved feelings from diet and exercise, the care, love, and support of family and friends.  All these "victories" as I call them give me a feeling of lightness.  I laugh a lot,  my mood is brighter, and I allow myself to ponder the future.  I am considering, after 35 years, of making a career change.   All things we all do when we feel hope.  Hope is the key, not just to cancer patients, but to all of life.  It is what gets us out of bed in the morning, it keeps us from giving up when life gets "dark", and it assists our amnesia when we need to forget a past event that would otherwise anchor us with sadness.  I don't speak here of avoiding loss.  I speak here of grieving and then moving forward.  Hope Saves Our Life and it is important to develop and safeguard the events that feed and nurture it.  Maybe the way each of us accomplishes this is different, maybe the sources of our encouragement and strength vary, but knowing the importance of protecting what is most valuable to us is the key.  The old you, the one that existed before cancer, is gone.  We are no longer  the person who "has not had cancer".  You are now the person battling through and beyond cancer, with a new way of seeing and approaching life.  Things are different now...for the most part,  profoundly better.
    Spiritually...where to begin.  Honestly I can not imagine navigating this process without the presence of God journeying with me.  I don't want to explore too much here for a couple of reasons.  One is because I respect the beliefs and efforts of each individual, and the other is the awareness that we all walk our own path and encounter our creation at different levels.  I don't want to inject my experience of faith, unless I am asked to specifically, so as not to deny or minimize the experiences of others.  Don't get me wrong, there is no other subject I enjoy more...just not here.  Have your people call my people and we'll "make it happen".  I only want to "highlight" the importance of staying connected to, and investing in, the source of our creation.  You need to know you are never alone.
    I look forward to the next few weeks.  That wonderful holiday of gratias is coming...and I have so much I am thankful for.  This year I will not just "give thanks"...I will celebrate it.  I will enjoy all my family and I will honor those who are not here anymore.  Honor them for their contribution to making me who I am.  When I thank God, this year, for my abundance of blessings, I will have a keen awareness of these gifts and what they mean to me.  And...I will use all this knowledge to reinforce my feelings of HOPE.  I am anxious to undergo my first PSA test Dec.4th.  I will probably be just as anxious to do the subsequent tests every 3 months thereafter, but this will not affect my life in between.  Please reach out to those you encounter in your life, who may need your gifts.  You never know when that person in need may be you... Love to All