When you are told that you have cancer, your heart goes right into your stomach. The surgery whizzes by and as soon as the incision heals, it is off to chemo. The first thing you learn is that chemo feels, tastes, and smells like four packs of cigarettes all rolled into one cigarette. The roller coaster of events and feelings that you go through is the same and different for every person who goes through it.
I learned a lot from the book by Christine North called the Wisdom of Menopause. It goes through everything regarding menopause and even other things. A very good book and a good reference book.
In my six months of chemo, I put on one hundred pounds. So far they have taken up residence and really like my body. I have exercised so much and once got half of the weight off; then my brother and sister died. Up came the weight back again. Now I have started again to get rid of all excess weight and my oldest brother died. I gained some of the weight back, but not as much as prior. Now I am fifty-five years old and I can’t seem to pass the first ten pounds. I hope it isn’t that my system is just slowing down. I am through menopause; I had a surgery for that also, being that some of the cells were starting to turn cancerous.
I have been on the treadmill for one to two hours daily, swam, and walked outside with my dog. I have used weights to slim down and hopefully get rid of my weight. I am still in that same ten-pound range. I know that I will have to change my nutrition and my workout, but I don’t know how. In the mean time my legs hurt, chemo shot my joints, and my breathing is just seven years later getting back to normal most of the time. If I can conquer this mountain, I will be able to get my reconstruction surgery. I will hopefully learn how to keep the weight off and balance my exercise to a normal amount. Then my Mt. Everest will have been climbed and I will be able to put the pink ribbon flag on top of it.
I right now have seventy-five pounds and quite a number of inches to evict from my body and to keep off—that is no matter what. Everyday whenever I speak of weight I always say and think “get rid of” because one thing I learned is that whenever I said I wanted to lose weight, by darn my subconscious would work overtime to find it. When I say, “I am getting rid of my excess weight,” I seem to relax inside and can let it go into the trash dumpster and not try to bring it back. Now I just have to get the fat to go with my emotional eviction of it, and not come back.
I live by a lake now and walk on the beach and I love it. This summer I hope to go to the ocean. I want to walk on the beach there also.
I hope maybe I could learn how to exercise where I get rid of my fat all over my body evenly. When I lost my weight a couple years prior to chemo, I lost my bottom half of my body fast and my top was a size bigger than the bottom half. I don’t know any real aerobic exercises for the top of my body, especially ones that work. I am starting to get flabby upper arms. I have lymphadema in my right arm; I wrap it when I exercise my right arm, as it should be.
After a long winter of chemo and learning, the seeds planted in the spring the season of change. All the seeds planted of knowledge, new things, and maybe even new people will bloom in the summer, the season of warmth, with all the beautiful colors of the flowers all over. As you walk in that garden, you will smell the beautiful fragrance of balance and beauty that will remain with you always.