"Resistance is Futile!" My Storm Troopers in my crazy cancer game keep popping up screaming. "Resistance is Futile!" When I am on a run, I find myself crying uncontrollably. My mind is so determined to cling to the body I have worked to create all the while these StormTroopers keep trying to take over my planet. Now, I can make those Troopers look more like Lego men with heads I can pop off and little plastic laser guns that I can vacuum up in my Dyson. Yet, they are still there turning my dreams in fantasies. My dreams of working on crafts with my future granddaughter have begun to filter through my fingers into my pail of lost fantasies mingling with the one of my hot twenty-two year old self in a bikini being fondled by six foot two life guard. Yes, folks, I am still human here and would love to telliport to the world of dancing and boyfriends that open the car door and make me laugh uncontrollably over an Italian dinner while goose pimples flare at the nape of my neck when he touches my arm.
Much on my mental fight is sparked with pure determination to not retire before I am ready even when my body has made the request. Oh, no, I will not, I move in and out through Halloween with my kids, for my kids. I volunteer at school as Room Mom and have a blast teaching the Kindergarten to make paper bag puppet monsters...yes, moms, that was what those were supposed to be. I marched on through having a family over for a quick bite together and then sending everyone out the door to meet up with more neighbors for trick or treating. I had performed several costume changes through out the day, procured dairy free candies for Cowboy, brushed Rapunzel's long wig a dozen times, and made sure both kids were happy and enjoying themselves. Yet, as I walked around the first corner of the block with my friends and our kids, I realized that I just could not do it. I wanted to lie down, my head hurt, I was thirsty. So I let the neighbors run off with my kids who were already three houses beyond the parents with the smaller kids, and turned back home. My StormTroopers mocked me as they jabbed their plastic guns in my ribs. I cried. This isn't what I want to be doing. I don't want to be going home. I want to be hanging out with my friends, laughing at the kids antics, and being there if my youngest is a little scared of the green house on the corner that has a fog machine.
I am sure my look of defeat is printed on my face at times. I walked into a massage the following morning with a new practitioner. It is a free service for radiation patients...awesome perks. I turned the corner and saw her face melt with pity as if she had seen her young daughter-in-law walk in through the doors. She asked all the typical questions knowing I had breast cancer, it is in my chart, and made assumptions that I was probably saving my perky 34 Bs from surgery with chest radiation. So she asks about the mechanics like if I can lay on my chest and how many treatments I have had so as to not apply lotions to those areas. I tell her, that I am all good to go as my surgery was over two years ago and the treatments are on my head so she can do whatever she feels I need on my body. She is kind, but obviously very uncomfortable. I am uncomfortable. What do I say when people look at me like I am going to die? I have metastatic breast cancer to my brain and I am going to to die before I am ready. Those Storm Troopers keep reminding me of that. But, not today. I am yielding a power that is far beyond the Dark Side that is tuning this body into the finest machine I can muster.
This really isn't an easy place. And, I am sure it is even harder for those around me to watch. God, I hope I keep my hair only because it makes it easier to look at me. It makes it easier to ignore the fact my vocabulary is muddled and your name totally escapes me. It makes it less scary. I am a fighter. I am a good fighter. I am fighting. So I yell, get mad, get frustrated, get sad, and scream. Sometimes, you are in the way, and I am so sorry. I am not screaming at you. I am screaming at my Storm Troopers. I have a lot of Jedi Mind Powers that will blow you away. And, I am determined to resist to keep this body moving on this Earth.
Being that I am who I am and much rather see beyond my messed up head, I want to take a moment to inspire you to choose you. No, there weren't any risk factors in my life to warrant my current predicament I had taken care of it...perfectly healthy with a little asthma and colitis I had controlled for nearly a decade with good eating. No, my body was just made this way with over excited growth genes in my breasts. My body is just like your body with its faults maybe it is Lupus, diabetes, MS, and so many physical challenges everyone around us is walking in out of their days with. Maybe you don't have it yet. So take care of your body today. Tune it. Feed it. Stop giving it bad stuff. And rub lotion all over your beautiful skin every day. Make this your mission this month. Take off your weight...get serious. If imagining you are your sexy 22 year old bombshell self in a bikini that motivates you, go for it. But, for most of us, the focus is just to be able to make your body move as is God's gift. Just make your body into the finest tool you can so you can fight whatever you need to fight when you are asked to come to the ring. You want top billing because you know you will have Storm Troopers coming because you are getting older. Take it on.
Take care of your brain and find honor in your life as it is in those moments in between that count especially when you have mental challenges of addiction, depression, bipolar, or Aspbergers. Find blessing in your life when your Storm Troopers are clouding your thoughts. Our life without you would not be whole. Oh heck, if you are a mom, go be a lone for a bit. I have such a renewed respect for all that we have done all these years to do everything and be everyone to our babies. As I have had to step out of my mommy-head because it is just too much for me to keep straight, I look longingly at the amazing feats I accomplished daily to keep smiles on those little ones faces, house clean, tummies full, and homework done on time. Find your balance and self again. The world won't end if you don't cover every boo boo with a Band-aid or forget to bring the sanitizer to the jumping castle. Think of the adult sized reward your son will have when he realizes he can wash his own soccer uniform when you were too tired after work to get it done at midnight. His future wife will thank you. It hurts now when they yell at you for not being all of everything for everyone, but they will be okay. Disappointment hurts. Disappointment inspires too.
So whatever it is you need to do, start it. Tune your body. Form new habits. Take a class. Take silence. Create. Let go of being everything to everyone and choose you. What can you do to make yourself ready to yield your Jedi Light Saber to your Storm Troopers when your number is called? Do that.
No comments:
Post a Comment