Animal Housewife

This time last year,  I was in and out of the doctor’s office and hospital, having biopsies and wondering what was wrong with me.  I practically lived in my pajamas.  I slept every night on the couch with the TV on. 

That was last year.  Merry Christmas everyone!  I’m happy and healthy.

Back when I was first diagnosed with angioimmunoblastic t-cell lymphoma, I did what any of us would do as soon as I had access to a computer. I googled it. I didn’t find much of use, and I certainly didn’t find much that was reassuring. For example, I found this forum and frankly it pissed me off. The discussion affected me negatively; the prognoses always seemed so dire. In fact, that forum is one of the reasons I decided to start blogging about my experience on this site, which I had originally created in order to brag about my pets.

After chemotherapy treatment was over in April, I struggled for about a month with the fear that the cancer would return. I felt like I was left on my own for the first time in months, as I was no longer under the constant care of the doctor and his staff. The slightest itch on my skin or the smallest discomfort anywhere near my neck caused me to panic inside. And the panic was all-consuming. I couldn’t concentrate on anything except for the things I imagined going on inside my body. I felt as if I had no control over my body.

I was reading Robert Penn Warren’s All the King’s Men (1946) and I found a quote that matched exactly how I felt throughout the whole cancer experience:

“… learns that the little stitch in the side is cancer and that he is carrying around inside himself that mysterious, apocalyptic, burgeoning thing which is part of himself but is, at the same time, not part of himself but the enemy….”

When I visited my oncologist in May, a month after my last chemo and a few days after my last CT scan, I expected the visit to be positive. But I left frustrated. I had told my doctor, “When I researched that disease online, people basically said I had about two years to live, once I was diagnosed.” I expected him to scoff but instead he shrugged and said, “I don’t know what to say. It’s a really bad one to have!” It was as if the doctor was afraid to reassure me, even though all signs pointed to remission.

The doctor sent me to another oncologist for a second opinion on whether or not I should do high-dose chemo and a stem cell transplant. He had told me that since I appeared to be in remission, it should just be on the shelf in case of the disease’s return. I told him that I heard that without the procedure, my chances of survival were slim. When I visited the second oncologist and expressed this concern, he actually seemed to agree with me that my chances of staying in remission without the procedure were remote.

I decided against the procedure. I didn’t re-visit that second oncologist. I am healthy and the cancer is in remission and right now I feel that the battle is a mental one – and that battle is all mine.

I returned to my original doctor on July 29^th. He was happy to see me doing well. He said it means so much to him to have healthy patients in his office from time to time. He respected and agreed with my decision against the high-dose chemo and transplant. He said that there was a “more than small” chance that I would be just fine. I don’t understand why he seemed more reassuring that day. Was it because I was glowing with health? Did I have a different attitude that day?

Yoga has changed my life. I’m in the best shape I’ve been in for years, and it has helped me mentally conquer the moments of panic I described above. However, those moments come to me more and more rarely.

My pulse and blood pressure are steadier and lower than they’ve ever been in my adult life. I’ve learned to give up the vanity a bit and focus on health. You know what? Doing that makes me beautiful. People tell me I look great, people tell me I smell great. I smile more and I have a happy look in my eye that I didn’t before. Sometimes I think facing illness makes us learn how to take care of ourselves. I feel like I’ve come out of a long hibernation, one that started long before I was diagnosed, before I ever felt sick. Oh! And my hair is growing back so quickly!

I’ve learned not to let myself get angry over stupid things. I’ve learned not to bother hating people. Anger and hate hurt me more than they hurt anyone else.

I have come across so many nurses and medical techs in the last year that have never even heard of that disease.

I believe that even my trusted and beloved oncologist understands that disease as little as I do.

I say “that disease” instead of “this disease” because it is not here.

The next time someone says that “it’s a bad one”?  My response will be: “I’m badder.”

There is life after angioimmunoblastic t-cell lymphoma.

So – on with living!

I have started to go to yoga and I absolutely love it.  The Yoga Center of Minneapolis had a free workshop on cancer wellness and the woman who ran it was so nice and gave off such a lovely, relaxed aura that I decided I wanted to attend her yoga classes regularly.  I go to her classes on Wednesday afternoons and I also attend classes by someone else on Sunday mornings.  I love it.  The muscles in my body are starting to feel different, stronger I guess.  I feel like I’m becoming better friends with my body.

 

But I really love what yoga has done to my mind. 

 

I have always been a very anxious person.  I am anxious when I go to sleep at night and I’m anxious when I wake up in the morning.  I’m anxious when I’m walking to catch the bus and I’m anxious when I’m sitting at my desk at work.  When I have to balance my checkbook or pay bills, I become so anxious that I actually start to tremble. 

 

Yoga is changing this.   I think it’s because I spend so much time inside of my head during yoga.  I knock around up there while I’m stretching my body out and I get relaxed and in touch with myself and I’ve realized that it feels awfully nice.

 

So why not try to be like that all of the time?

 

It’s all about the realization of your thoughts.  For example, I am trying not to rush through my actions.  When I am doing the cat boxes or some other chore, I find myself trying to hurry through those things and I get frustrated and anxious.  If I realize that this is just a chore and my life will still be there at the end of it, I can just relax and do the darn chore and not hate it so much.  Why be frustrated and angry while I’m doing the cat boxes?  Instead, why not relax and think happy thoughts while I’m doing them?  After all, it will make doing them so much more enjoyable.

 

One afternoon, after I had attended my first yoga class, I tripped over something in the back yard and a surge of anger, initiated by frustration, rushed through my mind.  I opened my mouth to curse but I caught myself at what I was doing.  Instead, I took a deep inhalation of breath, held it for a moment, and the exhaled, letting go of the anger while I did so.  I tripped, so what?  Then I continued on with what I was doing.  I was rather new at this and so the whole process was rather dramatic and when I came out of it I saw my husband standing at the other end of the yard, watching me and laughing.  But I found that the more I catch myself feeling angry or anxious and grabbing control of that and changing my mood, the more I am able to do it more naturally and without so much physical emphasis.

 

Being angry or anxious never solved anything.  Negative thoughts hurt us more than they do the people or things at which they are directed.

 

I have control over how I feel.  Why feel bad?