Turns out that not having to take chemo every six weeks frees up a lot of your time and energy to do other things. It's been four years since my journey through cancer began, and I am beginning to feel as though I am finally to the other side. But it's not the place I started, in any way - it's brighter and much more open to possibilities. Each day is much less of "Here's what I have to do today", and more of, "I wonder what exciting things will present themselves today?" Some days, it's even, "Look what I'm creating today!"
This story illustrates my point best. Late last year, after having finished my chemo, I was feeling pretty lost - as miserable as taking poison to kill your cancer can be, it had been my routine, my job, for three and a half years. Then it was over - what now? I wasn't feeling well yet, but I didn't have the chemo to point to as an excuse for not getting on with life. As somebody who likes to feel useful, I helplessly watched our finances flatline, then bottom out right around Christmas - "the most wonderful time of the year". Holiday tunes, celebratory soirées and decking out our cabin in the woods did little to lift my spirits as we struggled with rent. I questioned whether my pre-chemo energy would return. And my little brain struggled to hold on to the lessons of cancer as real-world reality and all of its responsibilities returned. My spiritual studies were being pushed aside by fear, anxiety, and even a little envy as our bank accounts dried up.
So many things I wanted to do, but we needed money - fast! I could I sell my art, but I hardly had time or the creative juices to paint, much less find a place to hang them. I want to teach riding lessons, but no one is calling me for help with their horses. Maybe I have to get a job in an office, or making coffees, or waiting tables - I have hardly any experience with any of those things, but whatever I can to to contribute to our income...
In a last ditch effort to find work in horses, I went to a handful of Santa Barbara riding stables. Most of them were busy, but when I was able to speak with someone, "Sorry, we're not hiring instructors," was the most frequent response. That's okay - I'm not ready to get back into a show barn anyway. So I stopped in at the local therapeutic riding center, Hearts Therapeutic, Kirby at Hearts sat down with me for a few minutes and told me that their program only hires PATH certified instructors ($$$) and depends solely on volunteers for other jobs. She invited me to volunteer, because "there are a lot of folks from the local horse community who volunteer, and you might make some connections."
Volunteer? But I need to make money! True, but I might die of equine-deficiency disease in the meantime, rent money or not! I NEED horse time, so what's a horse girl without a horse (or lesson money) to do? So back to Hearts I went for Volunteer Orientation and Training. And I remembered - horses, learning, helping people - this is what feeds my soul! These are the reasons I was put on this planet, and I'm back at it!
And you know what? Two weeks later, I was already having the time of my life, learning lots of new things, meeting lots of new friends, and yes, making lots of connections, when Kirby pulled me into her office.
"I hear you're looking for a job," she said with a smile.
Okay, I'm determined not to go more than SIX months between posts, so even if this doesn't go anywhere, here goes!
Let's start with what I've been doing, or not doing since Thanksgiving.
I have NOT been taking chemotherapy!
I have been tapering off my anti-seizure meds, I'm down 30%!
I went to Disneyland with my mom!
I surprised my girlfriend, Jenny, in Colorado, for her baby shower last month.
I have been painting! Lots of flowers and trees, and this just in - horses, too!
And speaking of horses, I'm also back to teaching and riding!
I'm also very, very happy! Can you see me smiling?
Happy (day after) Turkey Day!
There is a reason that Benjamin Franklin stated that he though the Wild Turkey "was a much more respectable bird" than the bald eagle with respect for it being chosen as the symbol of America.
They are quite beautiful in so many ways - some of my favorite photography subjects are the wild turkeys that roam our neighborhood. Goodness knows we get plenty of opportunity to watch and digitally capture their activities where we live.
When we first moved into our little cabin in the woods four and a half years ago, we quickly discovered that the turkeys were hardly wildlife, but actually fellow residents. They spent quite a few nights on the roof of our house when we first moved in. We found them fascinating from the start, and watch for "Our Turkeys" on their route through our yard and around the neighborhood every day, so they are good friends these days, even if they can be maddeningly destructive to the plants we spend a lot of effort growing!
Despite their reputation for not being the brightest of birds, turkeys are actually quite intelligent and have a very complex social structure. They look out for one other, especially their young, and I once witnessed a group of turkeys mourning over a family member after she'd been struck by a car on Paradise Road near my house. The whole family stood vigil over her, despite cars on the road. I honked and waited for them to get out of the road, hoping they would stay safely out of traffic and out of the road. It was heartbreaking to see how hard it was for them to leave their friend.
I giddily look forward to seeing the chicks every spring, and it's really an honor to see the hens that we hang out with all year, raising their little ones, sharing their family moments with us. I imagine looking into the beautiful, doting eyes of a turkey mama watching over her poults is not very different than looking into the eyes of any mother, human or other wise. We've been privy to watch them napping in our yard, hens shielding the chicks with their wings, mamas teaching the young ones to fly when they're ready, then watching the young ones grow into teenagers and mature adults. We once had the opportunity to save a group of stranded babies after they got stuck in our planter box a couple of years ago. What an experience!
The antics of our Toms are fantastic comic relief, especially during breeding season. Even when you can't see them, you can hear their gobbling for hours on end as they fight for their places in the gaggle. We've observed them strut back and forth in front of a shiny car for hours, unsure whether they're practicing, aware that they're seeing themselves or if they're just merely confused, and thus offended by their own reflections. We've been witness to parading gobblers shaking and vibrating like feather-covered exotic dancers. The first time I saw a pair of Toms tussle, in a chest-butting, wings flapping, feathers flying display of manliness, I worriedly wondered if the would actually kill each other over a girl. I stood in the window wringing my hands as they circled the yard, grabbing each other by that wrinkly flap of skin over their beaks (appropriately called a snood) and pulling for all their worth. How they could squawk and hold on, I couldn't fathom, but I was pleasantly surprised that, as delicate as it the snood might appear, it didn't come off when pulled to what seemed like far beyond the limit during a hearty wrestling match. Every bird survived his battle, but I suppose there was some hierarchy established as a result. There were some sore snoods and weary wattles to follow, I'm sure. Ouch!
Our group of turkey friends has evolved since our first year here in so many ways. They no longer sleep on our roof at night, but go uphill and roost in the trees. We often time our evening walks with "Turkey Launch Time", when they all take to the trees, one at a time, by running downhill first, then leaping into the tree branches in the creek below. Although they are nearly impossible to tell apart, we do miss "Gimpy", "Consuela" the adopted peahen, and "Mr. Big Tom" (with only 3 tail feathers) from the first couple of years we lived in our little cabin. This year's group is bigger than ever, with 6 toms and almost 15 hens. And as grumpy as it makes me when they thrash the plants on my deck, I try not to scare "Miss Limpy" too much when shooing our friends away from the vegetable garden.
Today, and every day, I am thankful.
I am thankful for a supportive, loving, and kind life partner/boyfriend/best friend. We've been through a lot in almost five years together, and I am grateful to have him by my side through storms, rainbows, and sunshine. Love you, Eric.
I am thankful for family, both my own loving and generous family and my wonderful Boyfriend's family. I miss them all and can't wait to see them again for a big hug! I love you! Thank you.
I am thankful for all my friends, both local and too far away. I am so grateful for the love I receive from all of you, and I'm so lucky to count some really amazing, wonderful people as dear friends. Thank you.
I am thankful for the fabulous, peaceful place in which we live. I am grateful for the beauty that surrounds us, whether it be breathtaking views, the wildlife that brings us so much joy, sun shining in my window, or the spider's masterpiece that is recreated every day over my kitchen sink. I am so blessed to learn and grow among supportive teachers and friends in art, yoga, tai chi, healing touch, horses, and well, LIFE.
Especially thankful this year for the gift of health and the freedom from cancer!
As in, Rainbows and Unicorns, the day has arrived! It is my last day of my last week of chemo! It's been a loong three years, but it's finally over.
I can hardly believe it. Especially since my body's not quite aware of a reason to celebrate just yet. As special as this day is in my head and heart, as much as I feel like I've crossed some sort of finish line or reached the other side of some gianormous obstacle, it was just another typically yucky week of chemo for my poor tummy. She doesn't know that last night's little white pill of digestive unhappiness (who we love for taking care of that Terrible Tuber of Brain-Unhappiness!) was the LAST ONE. EVER!