ARRIVING AT GRATITUDE

“Let gratitude be the pillow upon which you kneel to say your nightly prayer. And let faith be the bridge you build to overcome evil and welcome good.”    ~Maya Angelou

“Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life is the foundation for all abundance.”  ~Eckhart Tolle

 

     Post-treatment has been full of ups and downs and mostly, at first, downs.  With no substantial advice or support for getting back to optimum health and with the nagging fear that my January 17^th PET scan would reveal more cancer, I found myself feeling very alone and floundering.  I lost more weight and was constantly lightheaded with severe stomach pains from what I assume was hunger.  I stopped using the feeding tube, but still drank only nutritional supplements.  More weight loss.  Finally, I began to feel both frustrated and depressed and knew that I needed to do something.  A doctor’s appointment was looming and I knew that he wouldn’t be pleased with my lack of progress.

     It was the week before Christmas when I felt a surge of hope, accompanied by a determination to move forward. I bought some breakfast cereal and some cottage cheese and found a recipe for rice and lentils that sounded palatable.  I even read on a message board that several people who were succeeding in their effort to bring solid foods back into their diets had found success with eating fried rice, so I ran right out to my local Asian restaurant and gave that a shot.  On Christmas Day, I successfully ate potatoes and slaw and I began to feel as though I had crossed a threshold.  Food still tasted awful and my throat was still extremely sore, so swallowing was difficult.  But I took it slowly and ate frequent, very small meals.  The bulk of my diet was still (and remains) liquid supplements but I began, incrementally, to add solid foods.  Having the feeding tube removed felt like a real turning point.  It was so liberating to not have all of that equipment protruding from the front of me and most satisfying to look down and see a flat, “normal” belly.  I finally began to see some real light at the end of the tunnel.

     Still, I couldn’t seem to shake the vague feeling of depression, nor conquer the feeling of having been severely traumatized.  As 2016 came to a close, I looked back and, at first, saw only the terrifying events and experiences that had left deep, serious scars.  But the optimist in me couldn’t accept that negative view and, almost overnight, simply rebelled.  After a deeply satisfying visit with my daughter, a long talk with a very dear friend, and an online survey of the coping mechanisms employed by other head and neck cancer survivors, I suddenly realized what was missing.  Yes, it was gratitude.  As bad as I had been feeling, I saw that there were so many others who had been through much tougher treatments under much more challenging circumstances. Some had had unimaginably grueling procedures and been left with permanent limitations. Others had no close family or friends.  Some had serious financial difficulties that limited their options, while others were simply unable to cope.  Yet these people were posting about their challenges and offering support and encouragement to others.  And many maintained upbeat attitudes throughout, despite what they had been through.  I was irresistibly moved to count my blessings and suddenly saw that there is a great deal of hope for me and my future.  After all, I reminded myself, the doctors and nurses were assuming I would be cured of this cancer.  If that had been an unlikely outcome, they would not have offered it or maintained it.

     So where am I today, the first day of 2017?  I am reminding myself of the many blessings in my life, from my amazing and wholly supportive daughter, to my huge source of love and support, Paul, to my very special women friends, JR and Nancy, to my engaged and loving sisters.  I am blessed, in addition, with supportive co-workers, a fabulous and highly talented medical team, and a community of extraordinary women who would do anything for me.  And, finally, I am blessed with enough physical and mental health to be capable of setting goals that are achievable, the primary one being a return to full health and fitness.  I realize that the achievement of this goal will take some time and that I need to be compassionate and patient with myself, but I am willing to make that effort.  Daily practices, like meditation and yoga, well thought-out and well-timed meals, and learning to listen to my gut and follow its direction will, I am convinced, further the goal. 

     I am, finally, seeing the good, steady light at the end of the tunnel and, for that, I am extremely grateful.