Trust Your Intuition

Well, that's a wrap! My sixth and final chemo treatment has come and gone! One part of me is relieved AF, the other part of me isn't even phased. You see, I'm done with the "chemo" part - the dreadful uneasiness in my stomach, the extreme fatigue, the poor taste in my mouth, and hopefully the uncomfortable GI issues (💩)...but in another three weeks, I'll be back in the same chair, with the same nurse (who I LOVE), hooked up to the same IV. I may not be getting the complete 4-serving cocktail, but I will still be back in the hospital every three weeks, indefinitely.

My cancer spread to my bone before I found it. Everyone always says 'Early detection saves lives!' and 'Good thing you caught it early!' but the truth of the matter is, I didn't. Yes, I could've caught it even later. Yes, it could have spread even more than it did. But reality is reality, and my reality is that my cancer metastasized before we even started treating it...and I can't help but feeling somewhat guilty for that. Now, I'm left driving to Uconn every third Monday while putting Lidocaine on my chest, hoping to numb the pain of the needle poking my skin, and crossing my fingers that the nurse gets a blood return on the first try. I'm left in auto-pilot taking the elevator to the fourth floor, checking in with my name and date of birth, and telling the receptionist that, no, I have not been out of the country in the last 30 days, but damn I WISH!

I may not be going out of the country anytime soon, but I am going to seriously take advantage of this short month we call February! I am planning on seeing as many people and doing as many things as I possibly can, because as soon as March rolls around, it's surgery time. I don't know about you, but just the thought of surgery and slicing my skin open makes my stomach turn! The recovery might be less time than the duration of my chemo, but I hate thinking about the pain I will be in and the way my children will react when I can't hug them or hold them in my arms. I have been trying to plan ahead and reorganize our life to make it as easy as possible to deal with my limited mobility and strength. Right now, my kids are getting to be at a good age where I don't need to worry about carrying them as much. They are 2 and almost 4, so they are definitely getting to be more independent. My 2 year old, T, is still in diapers, but I figured when I need to change him, he can just lay on the floor or climb on the bed. We, also, just switched him out of his crib and into a toddler bed, so I won't have to worry about lifting him for nap time. The only other time I would need to pick him up would be getting into his carseat, but I won't be driving for a while anyways, so someone will always be with me to help with that. So I'm set right?? Wrong. These are my children. They are 2 and 3. They fall down, they get upset, they fight, they struggle. They need their mother and someone there to give a hug and kiss a boo-boo every once in a while! It's going to be difficult, and I know that. I also know that I have so much support around me to help when I need it. I have a husband who is planning on sacrificing his paycheck on our already tight budget to support his family the first few weeks after surgery. I have a mom and dad who live close by and are retired, willing to do anything they can to make this cancer disappear. I have two sisters, near and far, who would do anything to help in an instant. I have in-laws who have already shown so much love and encouragement. I have aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, friends, and the list goes on. Now, more than ever, is my time to stow away my pride and accept the help as it is offered. I have already been overwhelmed with the support I have received from people, some of whom I don't even know, and it is comforting to know that you all still have my back. For this, I will be forever grateful.

Now my mind shifts to the logistics of what March 5th will bring. I have been following some other blogs and doing my research online to try to navigate between the different types of surgeries there are. In my search, I learned that most people who have metastatic breast cancer don't actually get a mastectomy at all. Apparently, the reasoning is that once the cancer has spread, there is no added benefit to removing the breasts. To anyone else, a mastectomy is supposed to prevent any leftover cancer cells left inside the breast from spreading to the rest of the body, but to a patient with metastatic disease, the damage is already done. In my case, however, I am young, the cancer has only metastasized to a small part of my spine, and there hasn't been any damage to the bone. My oncology team and I are determined to treat my cancer for cure no matter who says it is incurable. We are treating this like any other breast cancer case and I am confident that my breast surgeon will remove any remnants of cancer there is.

I have opted for a double mastectomy while removing both nipples and most lymph nodes on my left side and under my collar bone. I have met with my breast surgeon, who is the same woman that did my port placement, and we are both on the same page. It is a big surgery, but it is also very routine in this field, so I am not too concerned for the success of the actual procedure. More of my concern comes from the reconstruction side of things. Some women opt out of reconstruction, but, for me, I feel as though I need this added step to feel more comfortable in my own skin once everything is said and done. There are so many different routes you can take to make you feel "normal", but I need to just accept that no matter what I do, I will never get my body back to being as perfectly imperfect as it once was. It's amazing how no one ever thinks their body is perfect until you are forced to deconstruct it and mold it again. A woman's true beauty is in her imperfections, and you'll never quite get it just right. Perhaps I'll need to embrace this notion even more post-op....

After meeting with my breast surgeon, I met with a plastic surgeon who will be doing the reconstruction part of it all. Before meeting with her, I did some solid research to get an idea of what different options their were. Between implant reconstruction and autologous reconstruction, LAT flap, TRAM flap, DIEP flap, over the muscle, under the muscle... I still had no idea what to do! One big concern was that I would be doing radiation after my surgery. Radiation tends to make your skin super tight and makes it much more difficult to work with when considering reconstruction, especially with implants since the goal with that would be to stretch the skin beforehand. Since I would be getting radiation on my back, we decided that a LAT flap was not the best option - this is where you take skin, fat, and muscle from your back to create a new breast. A TRAM flap would take skin, fat, and muscle from my abdomen, but not only would it leave a huge scar, it would also be very difficult to recover from since we use our abdominal muscles so much every day! I did considered doing a DIEP flap, and my PS said I would be a good candidate as well. This would only take skin and fat from my abdominal area, but after examining me, we weren't convinced I would be happy with the results since I am fairly slim. She said I could potentially take tissue from other areas that are more fatty, like my thigh or buttocks, but I still don't feel quite comfortable with the recovery of something like that. I ultimately decided to go for expanders and implants. With an implant surgery, it is pretty likely that they will have to go back in to replace them over time, and there may be issues of my body rejecting the implant altogether, but my gut is telling me that this is the path I should take for now.

The plan is that in the same surgery, once my breast surgeon is done with the mastectomy, the plastic surgeon will go in and put expanders under my pectoral muscle. Every week or so, I will go in to have them injected with saline until they are expanded to how I would like them (don't worry, I won't turn into another Dolly or Pamela!) After they are fully expanded, I will complete radiation (TBD) and have a final surgery to swap the expanders out for the implants. Although radiation may effect the outcome of this type of reconstruction, I decided that I would rather try an "easier" surgery first before slicing my whole body open and moving more things around than I need to. I understand that this may not work as well as I hope, and I may have to go back to get things fixed, but if I have learned anything from this journey so far, it is to trust my intuition. I have never been one to make decisions easily, and this is not an easy decision for anyone, but it is my life, my body, and ultimately my decision on how to move forward. I am becoming more confident in this path I have chosen, but I am ready to take on any other obstacles I may face along the way. Wish me luck!

Cancer - Check!

Just a couple months ago, I thought I had a mediocre life. I was getting bored. I wanted everyday to be an adventure. I was sick of the day-in and day-out of wiping noses, ABC's, grocery shopping, and eating the same damn things for dinner. What I really wanted was a change in scenery. Maybe moving to a different state would solve all of these problems? Nah, I doubt it.

I guess you could say I get bored easily. My life wasn't really that uneventful, I'm just that oddball who actually likes change. I like the excitement of doing new things and creating new experiences with people! For several years, my life naturally brought new things to be excited about. I married my husband in 2013, just a year after graduating college. It was a beautiful, outdoor ceremony in July with all of our friends and family surrounding us under tall pine trees. Just a day after our honeymoon, we bought a little ranch-style house in a quiet neighborhood just next door to the town where I grew up. That year, we also adopted Cooper, our loud, always hungry, licking and sniffing Beagle! About a year after that, we found out we were having our first baby. I know every woman has her own thing to say about pregnancy, but I absolutely loved it! Those 9 months were so magical for me, and in 2015, our little girl was born (talk about life-changer!) Just before L's first birthday, we found out I was pregnant yet again! This time, it was a baby boy, and in 2016, T joined our family to add even more excitement!

Since then, it's been doing all we can to pay our bills, get rid of debt, and maintain our house, while creating the best possible childhoods for our kids. My husband and I have had quite the adventure so far, and rattling off these HUGE life events right now makes my life sound more exciting than I ever even realized! All I ever paid attention to was the lack of huge life events for the past 2 years...(wow, Sarah...calm down). I mean, how many life changing events does a single person even need to have in their lifetime? We were hoping to add a third child to our list, but I guess cancer is another life-changer!

I'm really not trying to be depressing when I say that, either... I am literally laughing as I am typing this right now. I wanted an exciting life thats ever-changing, and I am getting it that's for sure! Anyone want to direct my real-life movie?? Can Julia Roberts please play my character? I love her.

You're right, that's a whole other topic for a separate blog...

I guess what I am saying is 'be careful what you wish for'. We scroll through social media everyday seeing everyone's best life. Then, when other people share that their life is in shambles, we roll our eyes that they're complaining. We see these perfect snapshots of single moments in people's lives, but this is not their life all the time! No one wants to see a picture of you at work...(unless you're Mike Rowe or Ellen or something)...and no one wants a snapchat video of them nuking chicken nuggets for the third night in a row...(actually, I'm pretty sure someone's probably done that before, but that's besides the point!)We see the best sides of people's lives on social media because that's what we want to see! Yet, if all we do is compare our own lives to these unrealistic glimpses into other lives, sure we're going to be left wanting more for ourselves. In reality, though, the grass is not always greener.

I used to want an exciting life, something worth writing a blog about, and I sure as hell got it, but it comes with a price. Lately, I've been missing my boring life with nothing written on my calendar. Now, my days are filled with doctor's appointments and everything else is tentative depending on whether or not I can get up off the couch. Now, I wish I could go back to eating the same damn things for dinner instead of everything tasting weird or hurting my mouth when I chew. Luckily, I have been able to manage a pretty normal life for the second 10 days after treatment. It's on these days that I can go out with the kids on my own, run errands, take L to school, and save the relaxing until their nap-time. After each chemo, I countdown the days until I can do these things. I am actually looking forward to grocery shop! Sometimes, I'll even park further away so I can walk more, simply because I have the energy to!

Life before my diagnosis was almost like a checklist. I experienced all of these amazing things, but always rushed through them, eager to check off the next life event. Cancer has been my one life-altering event that you would think would be the one I'd want to rush through to get it over with, but instead it's convinced me to slow down. I can't look too far ahead or else I end up just scaring myself. Instead, I've learned to take everything one day at a time and truly embrace those boring days when I feel like myself again. It's days like these that keep me grounded and remind me of the life I used to live. They encourage me that I will once again have my life back and under control after all is said and done. This is a long process I am going through, but it is all temporary. In the meantime, I will keep living each day as it comes, just hoping for a day to simply run errands.

Behind the Locked Door

My husband and kids are in the kitchen. Lunch is served. Mouths are fed. I say nothing.

The bathroom door shuts behind me and I lock the door. Deep breath in...I turn the shower on and close my eyes for a second. I need this. I don't need to explain, I need a break. I need to be alone without interruption. My eyes open, and I see a girl in the mirror. I'm starting to recognize this girl - weak, bald, pale. I've seen her enough times before that I'm starting to forget what she used to look like. She takes off her shirt, pants, underwear...The rest of her body is just as ghostly, besides the constellation of freckles scattered all over her. The skin around her eyes are dark, making her look even more tired than she is. The hair that once covered her is no longer there like it used to be. There is a scar just below her collar bone, a new scar that reminds me of the truth. Stretch marks, goosebumps, tears watering her eyes. I used to see someone else staring back at me. I used to be more patient. I used to want to sit with my kids during lunch. I never locked the door. Now, I am torn. I want to soak up every moment, while also wanting to run as far away as possible. I want to smile more than ever, but scream just as much. Nothing is how it used to be, and I don't think it will ever go back.

I turn around and gently step over the tub and into the shower. The water is hot as it hits my body, running down my stomach and legs. I put my face in my hands and walk into the stream, trying to wipe away any fears and worries I had just moments before. The water hits my neck now as I turn and it slowly makes its way to the top of my head. My eyes are closed and I slowly circle my head around like someone not knowing which way to go. The muscles inside me are tight. I can hear them screaming as I massage them with soap, one by one. They need to stretch and move, but are too weak to even help me stand. I crouch my way down to the floor - much better.

My knees are now to my chin and my eyes are forced shut by the water rushing down my face. I sit there at peace, almost meditating to the echoing sound of the spout and the drain. Minutes pass by and the rain above me turns into a puddle. Water fills the tub around me as I lay back with paralyzed limbs and a cold head as it reaches the tile. I turn on my side ever so slightly until the buoyancy eases the pain of my tailbone sinking into the porcelain. The water slowly rises while my toes are left out in the cold. I should turn the water off, but that would require much more of me and I might hear the tantrum reality outside the locked door. I keep the water running a bit longer.

I now start to notice little dots. They are almost microscopic, on my arms and hands. Was this where hair used to sprout? These spots now show another reminder of the truth. I decide to turn off the water, then quickly return to the warm bath that I so needed. I lay there in solitude, just breathing in peace. I hear the faint murmur of life outside the curtain, but other than that, it is silent. I'm not moving. Can I move? My eyes focus on the spout in front of me. The hue changes from a green then slowly to an orange and back. Why? Part of me is concerned, the other part just doesn't even care. I take a deep breath and suddenly it's back to normal. My thoughts and questions are random and scattered. Though, life outside this bath is chaotic, too.

My fingers are now wrinkled. I hear a loud gargle as I release the drain, and the shock of the cold air reaches my arms and legs. It's time to get out. It's time to unlock the door and face my life outside. It's time to organize this chaos and get back to reality. My reality, my chaos, my life.

A Day in the Life

Well, here I am. I have been blessed with another day, and if you're reading this now, then you were, too - congratulations! Welcome back.

As I am writing this right now, I am sitting on my cozy couch, three days post chemotherapy #5. My fashionable attire consists of black and pink fuzzy socks, my favorite gray sweatpants (thank you TARGET!), a Magnolia t-shirt, a gray zip-up hoodie, and my fav cancer-friendly hat. All I can hear is the wind blowing the lingering leaves outside, the beagle slightly snoring, and the boiler in the basement stealing all my money as it keeps me toasty warm on this cold winter day.

I feel well-rested today, with the help of a late night Atavan to push me into that comatose state I so enjoy being in as I snuggle under my covers by 9pm. It was no later than 6:48am this morning, though, that I heard a gentle 'A-choo' followed by a much bigger 'A-thwew!'. A tiny pitter-patter escalated down the hallway and into my room. 'Mommy, I need a tissue'. L was awake and ready to start our day. After a wipe of her nose, and a quick trip to the potty, she climbed up into bed with me. We quietly talked about our sleeps while T was still dozing in his crib, and recalled what the plan was going to be for the day. But first, Fruit Loops.

Once we heard T waking up, L quickly rushed to his room to say 'good morning'. What sounded as a nice wakeup, turned into shouting and tears before I could even get up. Sometimes they can be so sweet, and other times just so very sour! Apparently, L took his sock off, something hit his head, and all was forgotten after a diaper change...Oh yeah, Fruit Loops!

We made our way into the kitchen for breakfast, when who should show up peering through the big, bay window, but Grammy! Thank goodness. L has school today, so Grammy picked her and T up this morning to have a much more exciting day than being cooped up in this house with me! Once a month, L's school has show & tell, which she is always so excited about. She always chooses to bring a stuffed animal with her, but she is always so proud and makes sure she remembers what their name is before heading out the door. Today is that special day. She decided to bring her beanie baby, 'Nibbler', with her. While she is at school for the morning, Grammy will take T to run some errands or go to the library.

I have the morning to myself. I always dreamed of this kind of day - staying in my pajamas, laying on the couch in silence, actually listening to and guiding the thoughts inside my head. Now that it's forced, though, it doesn't seem like that much fun. I miss my kids. I miss the background noise and chaos running around my house. As early as it felt waking up today with my girl, I love those cozy, quiet moments with her. How many more of those will I have before she's too grown to want to lay with her Mommy, or I am too sore to be able to cuddle with her? Sure, it's nice letting people help with your every day to-do's, but it's an even better feeling when you can get that control back and have the energy to take back the reins. Every week post-chemo, I dread not being able to do all that I can for my children and my family. I just need to remind myself that this state is only temporary. I am halfway through this round's fatigue, and I only have one more cycle left. One day at a time.

In the meantime, I will soak up every little moment I can, and embrace the little things that make up my most beautiful life. Sure, big trips and excursions, sports and dance classes, are good for anyone, but what really shapes your child is how they are loved. Let go of the pressure you face as a parent. Ignore that judgmental voice in your head questioning every decision you make. Slow down, listen to, and simply love your child. That is the most important thing you can do for them.

The Beginning of a New (Year's) Day

Today is January 1, 2019. It is New Year's Day...a day where many people begin new goals, make resolutions, absolve themselves of any negativity and bad habits in their lives. For some reason, people feel they need the start of a new year to have a 'clean slate' and to 'start fresh'. I suppose it makes sense...but I've never been one to make a solid 'New Year's resolution'. Sure, I've told myself that it's time to get in shape, eat healthy, and move more, but I think the timing just always lined up after stuffing my face with food for a month and receiving several discounted gym membership offers in the mail....

Lately, though, I've been taking things a bit slower, living one day at a time. For me, I don't know what each day is going to look or feel like. Instead, I've been creating a 'clean slate' and a 'fresh start' each and every day. If I'm having a bad day one day, whether it's pain or discomfort physically, or feeling sad or worried about my future, I have to remind myself that tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow is always a new chance to wake up with a better mindset and to feel more refreshed. I feel grateful for my tomorrows. You really never know what tomorrow may bring you or who you may meet. Why wait for the new year to be more generous or to exercise? Why wait to slow down or practice saying 'no' every once in a while? If you really want to be this type of person that you envision for the new year, then just start it when the opportunity comes up! Don't wait. You never know what might get in the way of these goals down the road. Sometimes there may be speed bumps or detours, and sometimes you may never get there...

I have to say, I had a pretty eventful 2018. I closed up my home daycare and pursued a new endeavor in real estate, including coursework over the summer and passing my exam in October. I enjoyed many adventures with my little family of four including hikes, museums, the Ben & Jerry's factory, a flight down to Atlanta, a week on the Jersey shore, and lots of ice cream of course! I FINALLY got to see my childhood idol, Shania Twain, in concert in July (HUGE highlight in my life)!!! I also worked on my health by eating right and running more than I have ever run in my entire life! The year started off pretty great, and most of it was actually really fun! Sadly, it had a tough ending. I know I've said in previous posts that I am remaining positive through all of this, but reality is reality! Getting diagnosed with cancer sucks. It is not how I envisioned my year to end. Yes, I am happy that I was able to experience everything that I did earlier in the year, but no one will ever tell you that they are happy to throw cancer in the mix of everything else in their lives.

I wasn't planning on ending my real estate path after the exam...I had plans to work and start an actual career for myself. Now, that's all on the back burner until I get my health under control. I also wasn't planning to stop running...I had plans to finish my first half marathon. Now, I have to start training from the beginning again, whenever my heart can handle it after chemo is complete, I'm healed from my surgery, and radiation is done. There are things that I've missed out on, things that I wish I could say that I have done in 2018, that just never happened. Sure, there's always this year, and I hope that I can accomplish what I want in 2019, but that is simply not guaranteed. It's not guaranteed for anyone, because no one knows what tomorrow may bring.

In the big scheme of things, 2018 did not end as I wanted it to, and 2019 did not start like I wanted it to, but I have to say, today I am well, and I have high hopes for my tomorrow. Next week, I won't be feeling so great after Monday's infusion, but I need to take it one day at a time. I need to embrace the energy and appetite I have today. I need to take advantage of the quality time I have with my kids while I am able to get up off the couch to do a puzzle with them or take them to the library. I can't worry about next week, I need to appreciate today.

I made my 'resolution' to slow down back in October. I couldn't wait for the new year to be the person I wanted to be. I have always been the type to plan out my life years in advance and to rush through the small steps it takes to get to where I want to be. Now, I am working on living in the present. I am creating memories with my children now instead of worrying about where we are or what we will be doing years from now. Since my diagnosis, I've pushed myself to continue experiencing things outside of the hospital. We had a fantastic Wizard of Oz themed Halloween, went to the Blaze pumpkin festival, ate lots of food on Thanksgiving, visited with Santa in Sturbridge, took a train ride to the North Pole, spent quality time with friends, and enjoyed Christmas with all sides of our family. Cancer is not the journey I wanted to start last year, but it was not my only journey. I am proud of myself for not letting it get in the way of everything I could enjoy, and I am grateful that it pushed me to do things I wouldn't have otherwise done.

Even after this first course of treatment is complete, I hope to continue to feel pushed to experience things in the 'now'. No one knows for sure if 'five-years-from-now' will even exist for any of us, so we need to stop putting so many things off for next week, next month, or next year. Do it now. Call your friend you've been meaning to catch up with. Tell your loved ones you love them. Put your phone down and read a story to your child. Take a road trip. Be the person you want to be - today.

Bloom where you are planted.

Om (noun): The whole universe in one single word. The union of mind, body, and spirit.

Deep breath in.

Exhale.

Om.

Repeat.

Life is busy. Even before my diagnosis, life was busy. I currently stay at home with my two children, ages 2 and 3 1/2. For any other mothers (and fathers) out there, you know how draining, and wonderful, and chaotic that can be. One day is set aside for grocery shopping and laundry, another day is preschool and music class, then there's story time and Christmas shopping, errands and doctor's appointments, and the list goes on. I enjoy spending time with my kids, I do. I just have a hard time when all of these things are crammed into one day. The other problem is that when we try to have down time at home, it tends to leave us with hitting, fighting, constant redirection, and headaches. So, most days we try to get out of the house...

Since my diagnosis, I have wondered how much easier it would be to go through chemo treatment without my kids. I wouldn't need to plan for people to come over every day to make sure they are taken care of. I could sleep in as long as I want to. I would have a quiet house all to myself. Then, I recognized that these two lights in my life are exactly what keep me going. They get me out of bed in the morning, they give me energy when I didn't think I had any, and their little voices remind me that life is worth fighting for.

In the hustle and bustle of parenting, though, anyone can tell you that it is important to dedicate some time for yourself. Get out of the house, alone, and do something for yourself. Get your nails done, get a massage, pick up a hobby, go to the gym, just go for a drive! It doesn't have to be every day, because it's hard enough to make it happen once a week, but at least try to pencil it in your calendar to do something for you.

For me, this used to be running. It helped when the weather was warmer and I was a bit healthier, but I would get out and run four times a week. It was time by myself. I didn't have a diaper bag with me or a toddler on my hip. I didn't need to pack any goldfish or applesauce pouches. All I needed was my running shoes and a hair-tie. Sometimes, I would keep going simply because I didn't want to go home just yet (Is that bad?). Before my first treatment, I made it to 10 miles. My goal was 5 that day, because I didn't think my body could handle much more after learning about my cancer, but I started, and just kept going. I'm so happy I did it, too, because since then, I've only gone out once. I learned that my heart had a hard time keeping up, and I'm afraid to push it too much. I listened to my body and took a break from my summer passion.

Several weeks have passed since I last exercised, which means several weeks have passed since I last took some healthy time for myself. Sure, I've run an errand here and there without any kids in tow, but I needed more. Last week, I experienced my first, true yoga experience. It was exactly what I needed (and perhaps what you need, too). I was out of the house, yes, but more importantly I was in a relaxing space and able to release any tension I had inside of me - physically and emotionally.

When I decided to try out yoga, I had no idea where to go. So, who do I turn to when I need answers? Google. I came across a place called "Bloom Yoga Fitness Studio". It wasn't too far away, and the prices seemed reasonable, so I took a risk and signed up for a drop-in class. When I got there, I was alone, but I was immediately greeted by the friendly staff and met my instructor. She showed me where to put my things, and what equipment I needed. When I was hanging up my coat, I realized I only had on my warm winter hat. I wasn't about to go through the class with that on, so I rocked the bald look! It's funny, when I'm out in public and I take my hat off, it feels as if I'm stripping down naked. I don't know if it's because it automatically reveals my cancer or because it's a part of my body that no one has seen in 28 years, but either way it makes me feel extremely vulnerable. When I excused my 'bald head' to my instructor, she asked if I was going through chemotherapy, to which I responded 'yes'. She reassured me that I looked beautiful and told me about her friend who was just about to start her own chemo journey. I quickly felt much better about my self-image and walked into the class with 10x more confidence.

The lights were dimmed the slightest bit and there was soothing music playing. Six other women were sitting on their mats and I found my spot in between two other ladies. The instructor came in and lightly greeted everyone with a generic "How is everyone doing?" We all responded "Good" and we began. Deep breath in. Exhale. Om. Repeat. I was relaxed. For the first time in a long time, I was focusing on myself. I was focusing on the most basic thing I could do with my body - my breathing. My body was moving and I was able to stretch out these muscles that have been resting for too long. It felt amazing. It was the last five minutes and our instructor told us to lay down on our mats to get ready for  Shavasana, or corpse pose. She turned the lights off. The only light in the room was coming through the left door's window, and the song "Be Still" by Sophia came on. All we needed to do was lay there. Lay still with our palms up, completely relax our muscles and breathe. I laid there in the dark while tears streamed down my cheeks. I was breathing. I was alive. I was one with my mind, body, and spirit. My whole self was in that room and I was not worried about anything else. I like to think that they were happy tears, as if it was a complete release of any negativity inside of me. I wiped my eyes dry just as the lights came back on. We sat up on our mats with our legs crossed. Deep breath in. Exhale. Om. Repeat.

Class was over, and I walked out of there feeling absolutely refreshed. I went back again tonight and plan on making it a weekly routine. Cancer will not prevent me from living my life as normally as possible, but if it weren't for cancer, I don't know if I would have ever taken the risk to practice yoga. This disease continues to test me and I continue to prove how much stronger I am than it is. I am learning more about myself everyday, and for that, I am grateful.

Namaste.