I'm heading back to work this morning with a determination not to let it become a return to routine. I want to hold onto an important lesson from my week off: I can control how I experience my life, and it is important to live every day with gusto.
The profound book I read while on vacation, Anti-cancer, A New Way of Life, is a wonderful blueprint for living every day with purpose. Author David Servan-Schreiber is both a physician and a two-time cancer survivor who has pulled together and translated a wealth of research for living healthier for all of us, not just cancer patients. He looks at our environment, the food we eat, the benefits of physical activity and how we see our world.
He describes how an experience with cancer can put a new filter on your vision. If we're lucky, we use that filter to see the colors of our lives more deeply and to take greater joy in simple pleasures; we live more fully in the present.
There are many ways to cultivate a positive outlook. One of the best reasons for staying positive every day is that it is an important ingredient in building and maintaining an anti-cancer life.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
I'm back!
With apologies to regular readers of this blog for my recent absence, I am happy to report I am back in full force and on many levels. My vacation of this past week restored me in many ways.
The respite from work was more needed than I realized. Things had been nonstop since my first day back from surgery, and they still hadn't slowed when I skipped town. I felt bad for leaving some projects, but an occasional check of my e-mail assured me work was progressing without me. I was finally able to unplug enough to relax.
Being able to spend time with my son and to see how he has acclimated to living and working on the Gulf Coast with my sister and her husband was especially uplifting. Tom remarked several times at how Ben has matured in his new environment. We celebrated his 25th birthday, knowing his future is bright.
This vacation also allowed me to fill in the last piece that had been missing from my physical recovery -- exercise! Joy and I started walking and jogging in the mornings, and yesterday I returned to the gym for the first time since Cancer 2.0 interfered last September. It was great to be back!
Going forward, I have new guidance for good health in an amazing book a friend gave me. Anti-Cancer, A New Way of Life, is written by a physician who has gone through two bouts with brain cancer. I was afraid to pick it up as bedtime reading. I needed to sit by the pool in the sun before I was mentally ready to open this book. I haven't quite finished it, but I have read enough to commit to changing my diet and my thinking for the better. This is one of those books I will encourage everyone I know to read for their own good health.
With good rest, good times with family, and good counsel for good health, I am ready to move forward and celebrate my many blessings.
The respite from work was more needed than I realized. Things had been nonstop since my first day back from surgery, and they still hadn't slowed when I skipped town. I felt bad for leaving some projects, but an occasional check of my e-mail assured me work was progressing without me. I was finally able to unplug enough to relax.
Being able to spend time with my son and to see how he has acclimated to living and working on the Gulf Coast with my sister and her husband was especially uplifting. Tom remarked several times at how Ben has matured in his new environment. We celebrated his 25th birthday, knowing his future is bright.
This vacation also allowed me to fill in the last piece that had been missing from my physical recovery -- exercise! Joy and I started walking and jogging in the mornings, and yesterday I returned to the gym for the first time since Cancer 2.0 interfered last September. It was great to be back!
Going forward, I have new guidance for good health in an amazing book a friend gave me. Anti-Cancer, A New Way of Life, is written by a physician who has gone through two bouts with brain cancer. I was afraid to pick it up as bedtime reading. I needed to sit by the pool in the sun before I was mentally ready to open this book. I haven't quite finished it, but I have read enough to commit to changing my diet and my thinking for the better. This is one of those books I will encourage everyone I know to read for their own good health.
With good rest, good times with family, and good counsel for good health, I am ready to move forward and celebrate my many blessings.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Unplug me!
What's wrong with this picture? I am at my sister's beautiful home on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, visiting with her, my brother-in-law and our son, and I continue to check e-mail and participate in conference calls for work.
I am having trouble unplugging from the office and embracing vacation, and I fear it will continue at least through today. Thank goodness it is Friday and those back in Columbus will have the sense to at least take the weekend off.
Maybe someone should pry my fingers off my cell phone and drag me out to the pool, where the sun can relax my tense brain and coax me into vacation mode. Hearing the pleasant water sounds might force me to turn off the voices that keep asking if I need to call the office. They know how to get in touch with me if I am desperately needed, which I won't be; they are all plenty capable on their own.
I need to remind myself that R&R is as much mental as physical; that I need to take time to re-energize not only my body but also my mind and soul. And you can't do that with a Blackberry in hand.
I am having trouble unplugging from the office and embracing vacation, and I fear it will continue at least through today. Thank goodness it is Friday and those back in Columbus will have the sense to at least take the weekend off.
Maybe someone should pry my fingers off my cell phone and drag me out to the pool, where the sun can relax my tense brain and coax me into vacation mode. Hearing the pleasant water sounds might force me to turn off the voices that keep asking if I need to call the office. They know how to get in touch with me if I am desperately needed, which I won't be; they are all plenty capable on their own.
I need to remind myself that R&R is as much mental as physical; that I need to take time to re-energize not only my body but also my mind and soul. And you can't do that with a Blackberry in hand.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Before and after
One of the absolute truths about cancer is the demarcation it creates in your life.
The list of life-altering events by which most of us track our days is small. Graduation from high school or college, marriage, jobs, home purchases are among the things that cause us to think in "before and after" terms, some to greater degree than others.
For me, a cancer diagnosis is at the top of the list. Once it occurs, everything that follows is touched by it in some way, and even events that preceded the diagnosis are viewed differently in hindsight.
The weird thing, though, is that the changes wrought by cancer are not all bad. I have written before about the filter cancer has put on my perspective, helping me to see more clearly what is important and precious in my life. As my health and routines return to normal, I am able to see great wonder and beauty in what I might previously have taken for granted.
As I consider this unexpected blessing, my prayer is to live in a way that helps those I encounter see through the cancer filter without having to endure cancer themselves. How should I treat others, how can I best use my time and talents, if the preciousness of my life remains in clearer focus? It's a question I never want to forget to keep asking myself.
The list of life-altering events by which most of us track our days is small. Graduation from high school or college, marriage, jobs, home purchases are among the things that cause us to think in "before and after" terms, some to greater degree than others.
For me, a cancer diagnosis is at the top of the list. Once it occurs, everything that follows is touched by it in some way, and even events that preceded the diagnosis are viewed differently in hindsight.
The weird thing, though, is that the changes wrought by cancer are not all bad. I have written before about the filter cancer has put on my perspective, helping me to see more clearly what is important and precious in my life. As my health and routines return to normal, I am able to see great wonder and beauty in what I might previously have taken for granted.
As I consider this unexpected blessing, my prayer is to live in a way that helps those I encounter see through the cancer filter without having to endure cancer themselves. How should I treat others, how can I best use my time and talents, if the preciousness of my life remains in clearer focus? It's a question I never want to forget to keep asking myself.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Re-adjusting the scales
It's a sure sign of how crazy busy I've been when I realize the end of the week is here and I haven't updated this blog since Sunday. Too many early-morning meetings have crowded into my schedule, following too many long days in the office with too many to-dos not yet crossed off the list.
Pressure is building at work as we continue to fight political battles in the state budget process and prepare for three days of our annual meeting next week. There have been moments I even feared work obligations will prevent me from getting on a plane with Tom the morning after the annual meeting ends to spend a long-awaited vacation week in Biloxi.
But this vacation is too important to delay. We'll celebrate Ben's birthday and have a chance to see for ourselves how well he has acclimated to living and working on the Gulf Coast. I will also celebrate time off work not necessitated by medical issues -- something that hasn't happened since last fall.
There were moments during my six weeks' recuperation from surgery that I questioned whether I was really needed at the office; things seemed to be getting done fine without me. Once I was back, it didn't take long for me to work myself into believing my role is indispensable. That, more than anything, is reason to take vacation time away next week. It's time for a work-life balance reality check!
Pressure is building at work as we continue to fight political battles in the state budget process and prepare for three days of our annual meeting next week. There have been moments I even feared work obligations will prevent me from getting on a plane with Tom the morning after the annual meeting ends to spend a long-awaited vacation week in Biloxi.
But this vacation is too important to delay. We'll celebrate Ben's birthday and have a chance to see for ourselves how well he has acclimated to living and working on the Gulf Coast. I will also celebrate time off work not necessitated by medical issues -- something that hasn't happened since last fall.
There were moments during my six weeks' recuperation from surgery that I questioned whether I was really needed at the office; things seemed to be getting done fine without me. Once I was back, it didn't take long for me to work myself into believing my role is indispensable. That, more than anything, is reason to take vacation time away next week. It's time for a work-life balance reality check!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Grandmahood
I've been thinking a lot lately about the little baby boy who will soon be entering our lives. His expected arrival is barely a month away!
All kinds of activity has been stirred up in anticipation. I will attend a second shower for Mandy this afternoon; this one with some of her former coworkers. Andy and Mandy have been decorating not only the baby's room but also other areas of their home in preparation for the many guests who will want to come see the baby. Friends and family are offering advice on potential names.
Amidst all of this, I have had two predominant thoughts:
1. Mandy and Andy will make great parents!
2. Do I remember enough about babies to uphold my duties as a grandma?
That second thought is a bit scary. It never occurred to me when I was a new mother that my mom and Tom's mom would not have the answers I needed, whatever my questions might be about how to care for baby Mandy. They were grandmas, after all. They would just know!
I approach my own grandmahood wondering how I will tap into the knowledge base all grandmas are expected to possess. I am banking, once again, on the advice my own mother offered when I shared my concern with her. Just love him. The rest will come naturally, was her answer.
If loving this little baby is the key, the rest should be easy!
All kinds of activity has been stirred up in anticipation. I will attend a second shower for Mandy this afternoon; this one with some of her former coworkers. Andy and Mandy have been decorating not only the baby's room but also other areas of their home in preparation for the many guests who will want to come see the baby. Friends and family are offering advice on potential names.
Amidst all of this, I have had two predominant thoughts:
1. Mandy and Andy will make great parents!
2. Do I remember enough about babies to uphold my duties as a grandma?
That second thought is a bit scary. It never occurred to me when I was a new mother that my mom and Tom's mom would not have the answers I needed, whatever my questions might be about how to care for baby Mandy. They were grandmas, after all. They would just know!
I approach my own grandmahood wondering how I will tap into the knowledge base all grandmas are expected to possess. I am banking, once again, on the advice my own mother offered when I shared my concern with her. Just love him. The rest will come naturally, was her answer.
If loving this little baby is the key, the rest should be easy!
Friday, June 5, 2009
Hugs
I have always been somewhat reserved when it comes to showing affection, but that has changed. My hug trigger has been reset to a new low threshold.
I attribute my new quickness to embrace to the medical battle I have fought since last fall. There is something about the physical connection of a hug that seems so life-affirming to me now. It says without words, "I'm here. You're here. We're both still alive and kicking."
In recent months I have found myself hugging people in church, colleagues at work, friends I run into on the street without hesitation, and then thinking afterward how nice it was, and how unlike me it was. Suddenly I am initiating the contact, and it feels so right.
Every now and then -- especially with family members who have never known me to be overly affectionate -- I fall back into my reserved ways. It's funny how not hugging now makes me feel more awkward than going with my new tendency.
I can't make up for all the potential hugs I shied away from in the past, but there will be a lot fewer missed opportunities going forward. Especially in these times of fist bumps and over-emphasis on protecting ourselves from stray germs, we can all use a few more good hugs.
I attribute my new quickness to embrace to the medical battle I have fought since last fall. There is something about the physical connection of a hug that seems so life-affirming to me now. It says without words, "I'm here. You're here. We're both still alive and kicking."
In recent months I have found myself hugging people in church, colleagues at work, friends I run into on the street without hesitation, and then thinking afterward how nice it was, and how unlike me it was. Suddenly I am initiating the contact, and it feels so right.
Every now and then -- especially with family members who have never known me to be overly affectionate -- I fall back into my reserved ways. It's funny how not hugging now makes me feel more awkward than going with my new tendency.
I can't make up for all the potential hugs I shied away from in the past, but there will be a lot fewer missed opportunities going forward. Especially in these times of fist bumps and over-emphasis on protecting ourselves from stray germs, we can all use a few more good hugs.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Even better!
There is a blood test that the surgeon who treated my breast cancer years ago calls a tumor marker. I have learned from her that the test is non-specific, but it can be an indicator of something that needs a closer look.
When Cancer 2.0 appeared last fall, the results of that test -- officially known as CA 125 -- had spiked from the level of 5 or 6 that it typically followed in the years after my breast cancer to as much as 48. It had drifted back down to 8 while I underwent chemo late last year, and that was the last report I had received.
It was with some hesitation that I asked my OSU oncologist on Friday if CA 125 was one of the tests he had requested for me. It wasn't, but he offered to order it immediately. Having just received the great news that my latest CT scans were negative, I didn't want to push my luck. But I also didn't want to harbor any lingering doubts, so I consented to the test and headed off to have more blood drawn.
The game of golf has taught me that low numbers are good. I was able to take a few strokes off my latest score in last night's golf league, but that outcome wasn't nearly as sweet as the result we got yesterday from the CA 125 test -- it was a 5!
When Cancer 2.0 appeared last fall, the results of that test -- officially known as CA 125 -- had spiked from the level of 5 or 6 that it typically followed in the years after my breast cancer to as much as 48. It had drifted back down to 8 while I underwent chemo late last year, and that was the last report I had received.
It was with some hesitation that I asked my OSU oncologist on Friday if CA 125 was one of the tests he had requested for me. It wasn't, but he offered to order it immediately. Having just received the great news that my latest CT scans were negative, I didn't want to push my luck. But I also didn't want to harbor any lingering doubts, so I consented to the test and headed off to have more blood drawn.
The game of golf has taught me that low numbers are good. I was able to take a few strokes off my latest score in last night's golf league, but that outcome wasn't nearly as sweet as the result we got yesterday from the CA 125 test -- it was a 5!
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