Physical Therapy "graduation"

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Last night was my final physical therapy session with Jocelyn. I gave her this collage.  It's 5" x 7" in an 8" x 10" inch black metal frame with white mat board. I think she liked it! We had our first session on November 22 and I was in so much pain that she recalls it was hard to evaluate me. I have faithfully done the exercises as she directed, twice a day at the beginning. I'm not 100% but maybe 95%.

Last week we were in Bethlehem for a staycation. For the first time since last season I was able to tee off on 9 holes of golf. Until now I had only been able to hit short runners or putt. And I was able to play an hour of tennis a few times. It's hard to run much on the court so I let a lot of balls go by. But if Glenn hits within my range, I can "paint the corners" pretty well. Very satisfying, both.

I have yet to get back on the road bike. Frankly, it scares me. I never want to repeat what happened this last year. Strangely, with all my "body awareness" from 25+ years of daily yoga, I had no idea I was injured. How could that be? But in the next few weeks I'll get back on the proverbial horse. Growing up in Iowa on the horses, I fell off so many times. My dad would force me back on and give the horse a whack to make it take off, just for good measure. Maybe that's a better approach than the avoidance of these last few months. I bike commute 35 minutes across town 3 days a week.

Jocelyn says to slowly let go of PT exercises but to transition to mixing strength and stretch yoga. I'm afraid  to let go of the PT, too. I've turned into a nervous Nelly. I grew quite attached to her over the months. I'm used to being in the healer role - very interesting to be the patient and to allow the feelings of gratitude, dependence, wanting to please her, so many feelings. To be remembered (hence the gift), to be a model patient. I can always go back. But it's a loss. And also a huge gain. I did it! Done!

Scan results from July 8 - "Stable"

Cold Storage Beach
Brewster, MA

I got my results a week ago today - the 3 month follow up after the questionable scans in April. The Vixen said all was "stable". This should be reason to celebrate, right? But rather surprisingly, I found myself really angry. Angry at myself that I'd "wasted" the last 3 months tied up in knots with fear about whether the cancer was taking off and would take me out. Anger that I'd let that fear overtake my thinking. I felt I could not plan anything  - WHAT IF? I'd wanted to commit to my first bluegrass festival. To camp out in Goshen, Connecticut for Podunk Festival. To do nothing but music all weekend. But I found myself unable to commit. So this morning I'm going to buy us a camping permit. The event is the weekend of August 11.

But the aspect that was most surprising was my anger about having cancer at all. I was super pissed off. Why me? Why am I a walking time bomb, waiting for the bad news? I've kind of come to a better place about it. But looking back, was I ever really angry about this? God, I should have been! So I'm working on my thoughts - trying to get back into a place where I'm not thinking about it all the time.

We spent the weekend in Portland with friends and the inevitable question of retirement... where do we want to be? what's the plan? In a way I still can't believe that my peer group is that OLD! My brother has 3 grandkids for god's sake!

I'm nearing the end of physical therapy. I've been going weekly since November. Glenn and I have been playing tennis which would have been unthinkable even a few months ago. Next step is to get back on the road bike which I'm afraid of! I really, really don't want to get injured again. But Jocelyn says to start slow... which is hard to do!