Angel

So,

All better now.  There are angels everywhere.  MRI has revealed a 99.9% improvement.  Tumors have shrunk. Full brain radiation works.  Death averted.  It's a miracle.  Once again.  One more Christmas.   I am nothing if not grateful, thankful and any other humility driven emotion you got.  I'm all that.

I am also, however, still reeling from the actual cure.  Still dizzy which is unnerving and nauseating.  Still double vision all the time.  I watch these words that I write now swing and fly off the page.  I spell check and back track and squint my left eye and get a headache just so you won't see that I can't really see this type and assume I'm doing it wrong.  Which I am.  Using spell check when I can finally locate it on this page...

I have to rest every few moments.  Literally, brain wants to sleep while I'm still sitting up.  I brush my teeth and have to stop in the middle to rest, my arm is so heavy.  I cannot get up and down from the floor easily anymore.  I need to crawl around to get up, much like my older yoga students.  Another lesson in humility.  I got shingles, got rid of them with Famvir, a drug that gives you diarrhea.  I take otc tummy pills.  I cut my steroids every week.  This week it's a half pill every 3 days.  My face has swollen to a fever pitch-speaking of which I've had fever for over a week now.  It's gone today but now am perpetually itchy without a rash.  Not annoying at all.  Really.

There are  the mental aspects.  I am going insane, eating my own proverbial tail here in this apartment I now officially cannot afford.  I practice meditation every day with Pema and Buddhism and the boddhisatvic way.  I am a peaceful warrior.  I then turn around and say the most heinous hurtful terrible things to myself.  All day.  24/7.  I am alone in the room alone with a killer.
"putting lipstick on a pig you stupid fat fuck look at you you stupid idiot-how stupid can you be you fucking idiot! it goes on and on and on and on like this all day."

Who is doing this?  I have to keep saying; cancel cancel.  Gentleness.  I don't treat anyone like this ever.  Why me?
Too much time to think.  The anxiety is overwhelming and I just realized I'm taking Adavan every day-at least once,  I have to.  I'll panic out there alone on the cold, hard 35 degree NY streets.  Subways are super fun.  Walks are good though, get the fluid away from the brain, fresh air, moving lymph by moving legs. Fresh blood to the damaged cells.  A good way to think in a forward manner- no more eating away at confidence. Outside brings a fresh perspective.  Gaining confidence that I will stay up,  and maybe even make it.  Honey is my little tyrant demanding out 3 times a day.  I lie though, she hates going out mostly too, but together we must!

I can't even do my normal yoga practice any more.  Too wobbly, knees kill, legs too weak to stand.  I push anyway, I pay in the middle of the night with terrible cramps and scary spine wierdness.  Remember the spine metastasis? I do.  It's back.  Thanks to not getting my chemo now, I worry the spine and liver are going to flare again.  It's like trying to hold down three beach balls under you in the pool at the same time.  One or the other, all keep popping up.  It's extreme vigilance.  These are my worries.  Plus money worries which hurl me into a a cold sweat every night.  Always helpful in curing cancer.

I do a floor bare and lots of twisting and tonglen breathing.

I am disillusioned with yoga again, sick of it all being about the brand- the glam and yes, the Alec Baldwin factor of the 25 year old yoga teacher lighting the way to our collective spiritual path as Americans.  Collen Saidman Yee.  Steals Rodney Yee from his current wife but it's all ok because she's pretty and blonde.
I was once.  Now I am bald and swollen.  Stripped of any "ego".  Nothing left to lose.  Everyone will know this at some point, I just hope you're all at least 97 years old as it should be.

I'm a total bitch.  I hate this and know I should be more grateful but it's hard and I'm terrified and alone.
It sucks.
Back to meditation.  At least "God" will get me right?

Pray for a Christmas miracle.  For my dad as well.

xoxo Kelly