Burning Woman

It's like having the sun rise and set continuously, repeatedly, inside the upper left quadrant of my torso for five consecutive days, followed by two glorious days of dark eclipse.  Nightly I wake with a dryness in my throat and mouth that makes no sense considering how much water I consume throughout the day and well into the nighttime.  Slowly cooking, from the inside out: the skin red and rash, only in the quadrant, showing evidence of radiation. (Gratefully, there is no internal pain associated with the treatments.)  The end is in sight however, with only six treatments left to endure. By next week's end I will ring another bell to signify the culmination of these powerful blasts to any remaining cancer cells.  

Last week I got to take a short break from daily radiation, having two sessions in one day, followed by one the next morning.  The rest of the week I was tending to a lovely new puppy in my life, Spokey, who lives just an hour or so down the road with his wonderful family in New Braunfels, Texas.  Though Spokey required a lot of energy, it was the fun kind, and it helped restore me in ways that sometimes only time with animals and nature can really do...I most definitely consider myself an introvert in this way.  What rehydrates and fills me when I'm wrung out and completely dry is inward retreat and quiet time.   

Recently, I was starting to feel sorry for myself, asking "why?!"  Why do I have to go through this crap?  I don't want to go on medication for the next foreseeable future! I do not want to be hauling myself in and out of doctor visits and clinical appointments!  I threw a few tantrums, engaged in my very own pity-party-of-one.  But in between rounds of throwing, fetching and chasing Spokey, I was able to rest, draw, sing and strum.  (He was a most enthusiastic sidekick and forgiving audience.)  Mostly I was able to stay out of the water, in accordance with the doctors' and nurses' recommendations and came back to Austin with renewed spirit and determination to eradicate cancer from my body and to begin putting this experience far behind me.  

Slowly I feel I am regaining "myself", the one prior to cancer, coming back up to the surface. Like parts of my "self " have had to retreat into the background, allowing the braver, stronger, warrior "selves" to take over while the more hesitant, vulnerable and frightened ones have had a long hibernation.  As the temperatures rise and the full heat of summer begins to burn, so too does my spirit, and my awareness that all of this, even the hard stuff, is a precious gift.  Living in the very present moment takes continued practice, which I am committed to, and I feel the power of love burning brightly under all of the mixed emotions and feelings, allowing me to experience them all without falling into despair (for long.)  

Happy Summertime.