"If I just breathe
Let it fill the space between
I'll know everything is alright
Every little piece of me
Everything is alright
If I just breathe....breathe." Michelle Branch
I'm not gonna lie, waiting around for chemo to start is killing me. well...I guess, not literally, tho, maybe, if I were the contrary type, I could argue that it is, since there could be random cancer cells lurking in dark corridors, waiting to meet up with others and launch another attack. Highly unlikely, even to my (sometimes) paranoid mind.
Here is the part I can't stand about it....the waiting....
it sucks doesn't it? Throughout this whole thing, for me, the diagnosis or procedure or prognosis or determination that yes, I was going to have to get chemo never really bothered me, it's always been the waiting. I think once I have my first treatment, see what it's like, see how sick it makes me, see how long till I don't feel like the walking dead, I will be able to handle it. But waiting for the day to come is what keeps me up at night -theoretically- since I'm taking so many sedating medications I RARELY even move at night.
When my son was a baby, I did a LOT of waiting...waiting for him to sleep through the night (four years, give or take 10), waiting for him to get through the temper tantrum stage, the pouting stage, etc. Perhaps a better word for that would be perseverance. I knew it was just a stage and that if I waited long enough, eventually the phase would pass. And I didn't just do this with the bad ones, I realized that the snugly baby phase, the sleep 8 hours in a row phase, the eat whatever I put in front of him phase, those, too would eventually pass, so I better enjoy them while they lasted.
So, maybe, it's not waiting that I suck at, maybe it's fear of the unknown. Even though I have several cool girls on my side who are giving me the 411 on what to expect from chemo, how long I have to endure this annoying tissue expander discomfort, I know that every one is different, and what happens with them won't necessarily be the same for me.
What choice do I have then, but wait, and hope for the best.... and breathe. Yoga principal number one is just breathe. All other things you do are ancillary. It's the breath that is the most important thing. Focus on that and all things will work themselves out in the end. That is good news for me since moving any part of my body makes other parts of my body feel like crap right now. I can't imagine how I will be able to handle MORE shit once the chemo starts. Fear tells me this, but in my brain, the small logical part still left there for now, I know there is an answer that has worked for me in the past: