Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Bodily Sensations

The nauseous achy jolting uneasiness shivers through my tummy.  It's not nausea per se.  Not like I want to hurl or any other such undignified action.  But it comes in waves...has been for several days.  Sometimes I am hungry and other times the thought of eating, eating anything, exacerbates the sensation. The scale continues to stay the same: 126 pounds.  "Eat!" they say.  "Rest!" they say. "Exercise!" they say.  And I try.

My muscles seem weary today.  A stiffness and weakness not felt since my icky-chemo days.  Yet my young radiation oncology doctor says, "Persevere with exercise if you can."  And so I do.  I will my old-feeling body to enjoy the beautiful walking paths around Silver Lake with the Canadian geese honking in preparation for their flight south.  The golden rod, purple asters, and rudbeckia all in glorious bloom.  The apples falling from their burdened branches.  The grapes turning.  Four miles later I will the leg muscles to take the short flight of stairs to my quiet and solitary room while the sweat beads on my forehead and my legs wobble to the chair.  I have walked this trek everyday this week and several times each week while I've been here - eager to remain healthy, to regain strength, to increase in stamina.  And tomorrow it rains.  And how grateful I am that I will not be able to walk those four miles in a thunderstorm.  That I will have to rest instead.

The time at the Hope Lodge and at Mayo Clinic getting radiation has been therapeutic to my soul.  It is quiet.  Not quiet like my farm, but quiet without endless conversations.  Quiet without perpetual needs and obligations.  Quiet without many responsibilities.  And so I think, meditate, question, answer and rejoice.  And I never want to lose this clarity of soul-sight. The contemplative peace of resurrection truths and timelessness of eternity.

Today's Journey Joys: clear blue skies, pesto on linguine, eagerness to journey home for a long weekend, skin maintaining integrity with just a little pinkness, good books, and wonderful understanding colleagues

Melancholy

I shouldn't write when I'm feeling like this.  Emotionally fragile and oscillating between tears, fears, and frustration.  Yet ...