“Two roads diverged in a wood and I – I took the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” – Robert Frost
Today is the first day of Lent. In the days leading up to today, the Ultimate Bengal Fan and the B-Man have been trying to figure out what they wanted to give up for Lent. The Bengal Fan ultimately chose chocolate, which is tough for my chocoholic son, while my youngest one had yet to settle on something. It’s run the gamut from refraining from throwing soccer balls at his brother, to broccoli (which he doesn’t eat anyway) to changing his underwear daily (I really do NOT want to know). He eventually decided on Lego.com. This is HUGE! I am really proud of him. He spends his entire computer time on Lego.com. I chose a different route this year.
The choice came upon me slowly. I have known for nearly two years that something needs to change in my life, but it’s a nebulous idea. There’s nothing solid to grab onto. Yet, I know God is nudging me. I took a huge step when I signed up for a Women’s study at church called “The Life Ready Woman.” The title intrigued me. Seriously, how much more ready for life can you be than to face ovarian cancer head on while homeschooling two young kids, make it to remission and carry on? Apparently not as ready as I’d like to believe.
In the interim, I’ve let myself go. My weight has ballooned to an all time high (and as open as I am with my readers, I’m NOT sharing that number) and I move less than I did before cancer. Now I could play the cancer card and say, “Well, I have neuropathy and my joints hurt, blah, blah, blah.” And it would be true. However, I’ve lost my love for most things. Oh sure, I love my boys beyond measure, I love my husband more than ever, and I’m surrounded by an incredibly supportive group of family and friends. But why do I feel so empty?
I know why. I’ve allowed myself to fall into a sort of complacency about things in my life. After all, I’m in remission from one of the most deadly forms of cancer. Woo Hoo! I have the right to kick back and rest on my laurels. Well, the world would say that, but I think God is calling me to so much more. And as I’ve said before, He generally needs to use a 2×4 or other heavy object to get my attention. This time, however, it was my feet and a scale.
I had lost some weight this summer and I did it mostly by exercise, which was painful. As summer turned to fall, my back and feet would hurt as soon as I got up the street to the corner. Walking wasn’t fun. Nothing was fun. I shut down and opened the bag of M&M’s. Fall turned to winter and I closed in on myself. It was just me and my coffee and chocolate. The treats I had right before a chemo treatment – because in a cruel twist of fate, chocolate gave me heartburn during chemo – were my secret allies. They made me feel good, or at least I thought they did.
Earlier this month, I made the decision to finally find out why my back and feet hurt. I found a great PT office that looks at the whole body, not just what hurts. Not only do my feet hurt less, but my back feels better. I still have an incredibly long way to go, but at least I can go up and down the steps the right way (alternating feet) and not like a two year old. It’s the little things. Walking “funny” because of neuropathy screws up your entire lower body mechanics. I’m working on muscle memory to get a new normal (there’s that phrase again!). My goal – the 5K OCAGC walk in September without pain.
So for Lent, rather than giving up something, I’ve decided to DO something. I am spending less time ruminating on the aftermath of cancer and more time on what the next chapter holds. It’s too easy to focus on where I’ve been. It was hell, plain and simple and I know that the Beast can come knocking at any time. I already hear its footsteps since I have my 3-month check-up and labs early next month. I’m not a betting person, so I try to ignore the odds, even if they are in my favor for the time being. Learning from the past is one thing, dwelling in it is another.
So with the courage I have been given, my Lenten journey is to begin a transformation; a metamorphosis of sorts. My goal is to muster up my courage daily and dive into this new life God is calling me to. Like a tadpole or caterpillar, it takes time. It won’t happen overnight. My goal for each day is to just find a way to not fold in on myself, but to do something that takes courage. For me, eating less takes courage, since food is my comfort. Cleaning my house takes courage (my beloved calls me a pack rat and he’s right). Writing takes courage. Spending time with God and listening takes an incredible amount of courage. Think about it – you ask God what He wants you to do and when He answers you should do it. I think I’m guilty of asking, but not really wanting to know what He thinks. It’s like if I ask, I’m good. So not only will I ask, but I will seek to act after the 2×4 smacks me in the head. I’m hoping after this period of reflection is over, that I may find myself being changed into a woman that God is proud to call daughter.
While cancer may have caused me to take the “road less traveled,” I need to let it make a difference. I’m getting ready for the next adventure. Who’s with me?