Making a Fresh (Re)Start

“Take the shackles off my feet so I can dance …”

The view from the end of my street, taken on my first walk here in many months.

We’ve made it past Quitter’s Day! And to spite that urge to quit, this week I (re)started activities that I haven’t been able to do for many months.

Walk the Dogs

David and Andrew are both back to school, and their schedules mean that for several days each week they don’t get back home before walk time. And my diva dogs are very demanding about the precise time for their walkies. We had tried some options for me to take the dogs outside in our courtyard area, but the dogs were unconvinced that this was a suitable alternative for their stroll beyond our property.

So this week I decided to put on their harnesses, clip on their leashes, and take them for a walk.

We didn’t go far—just to the end of the road (maybe 75 meters? I’m a terrible judge of distance). I have not walked down the road since last March or April, I think. The dogs cooperated with their required duties (feel free to insert your own 12-year-old-boy joke here about “duties”). Our stroll was slow and at one point I did need a short break to lean against a wall, but still—I walked the dogs. Outside. On the street. By myself. And it was good.

Train at the Gym

I know it looks like I’m just hanging out sitting there—but I really did practice my squat movement! (I also scrupulously observed rest time …)

My wonderful physiotherapist told me at my last appointment that I was cleared to work on some functional movement exercises if I avoided spinal rotation and protected my spine. But due to my compression fracture, I have a lot of anxiety about trying different movements. I didn’t feel confident trying to work out on my own, but I couldn’t manage a normal fitness class. I inquired about a balance-focused class at a nearby leisure center but was told I wouldn’t qualify for it. A few other options didn’t work with my schedule or were too far away or had too many logistical hurdles.

And then my gym—my beloved gym that I honestly thought I would never train in again—started a functional movement class!

I’ve started attending that, and it has been great. I have an experienced coach checking all my movements, and I can start reminding my body how to push and pull, to squat, to lift, to move. I thought I might cry after my first training session, but I was too happy (and tired!) that I could even hold my teeny little dumbbell and get up and down off the floor and feel my legs and feet working. And it was good.

Making Plans

This has been perhaps the most momentous (re)start of all—making plans to do things in the future. Six months ago, someone asked me if I wanted to make summer vacation plans for 2022. The question felt as nonsensical as asking me when I planned to visit Mars. I don’t know what will be possible—what would it even take to get me there, and what’s the timeline on that level of problem-solving? Would I still be around to get in on a trip to Mars?

None of us know the future. Yet all of us have to do some level of planning—we need to try to operate somewhere in the space between control freak and aimless blob. When you have a diagnosis or disability that invades your comfort zone for making plans, uncertainty hovers perceptibly in the shadows of all thoughts about the future. I don’t know what is possible. I don’t know the timeframe for what is possible. I don’t know if we can problem-solve enough to make this possible. I don’t know if I’ll still be around.  

Feeling permission to make plans for the future—for a future that is several months, not just days, away—feels luxurious, extravagant, daring. While uncertainty never disappears, it slides a bit further out of the frame of focus. Its thick cloud, which has sometimes swaddled you so tightly that you can barely peek into the next hour, dissipates into a waft that feels more like a gentle reminder of the limits of human foresight.

And so we are making plans to travel to America this spring. To be honest, I feel both giddy and nervous. But mostly I feel immense gratitude that it feels possible to make plans. I am immensely grateful for friends who have already helped us with trying to problem-solve some of the issues to make it possible for me to travel. I am immensely grateful that although I do not know what will happen in three months—and really, no one does—right now it is a gift to be able to push away the wisps of uncertainty and plan a trip. It is good.

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Treatment Update

This week has not only been about (re)starting; it also included an ending. My dear oncologist Dr Eeyore is retiring, and I had my final appointment with him. Some good news and not-so-good-news from that appointment:

Good news—my blood work and tumor markers continue to trend in the direction that the treatment is working. He spent a lot of time explaining different specifics in my white blood count and my protein numbers, as well as talking through how to manage expectations for interpreting my next scan. We have an encouraging snapshot of where things are at right now for treating the cancer.

Not so good news—no one has yet been hired to replace him or to cover his patients. I’ll have a plan to cover any emergencies, but no one is yet in place for clinic appointments. We discussed various options at length and I feel like he has prepared me for this next stage as well as he can. He’s a wonderful doctor and I am going to miss him terribly.

Prayer requests:

• Wisdom for decisions about the best options for my oncology care.

• Minimal bureaucratic headaches if I need to switch to a different medical center.

• And ongoing prayers for neutrophils to rebound for treatment and my mobility to continue to improve.

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Now I Can Lift My Hands / And I’m Gonna Praise You

This week hasn’t been perfect. It hasn’t been all joyous victories. Cancer is still in my bones. Uncertainty looms over who will be my next oncologist. People I love are carrying their own heavy burdens. And yet I don’t want to neglect the discipline of celebrating the joy of (re)starting to walk and move and plan. I love the honesty in this song—no sugar-coating the situation here. I also love it as a great jam that will make you want to move your feet and lift your hands. And I love it as a prayer: Take the shackles [whatever they may be] off my feet so I can dance / I just want to praise You.

In the corners of mind
I just can't seem to find a reason to believe
That I can break free
‘Cause you see I have been down for so long
Feel like the hope is gone
But as I lift my hands, I understand
That I should praise you through my circumstance

Take the shackles off my feet so I can dance
I just want to praise you
I just want to praise you
You broke the chains now I can lift my hands
And I'm gonna praise you
I'm gonna praise you

Everything that could go wrong
All went wrong at one time
So much pressure fell on me
I thought I was gon lose my mind
But I know you want to see
If I will hold on through these trials
But I need you to lift this load
‘Cause I can't take it anymore

Take the shackles off my feet so I can dance
I just want to praise you
I just want to praise you
You broke the chains now I can lift my hands
And I'm gonna praise you
I'm gonna praise you

Been through the fire and the rain
Bound in every kind of way
But God has broken every chain
So let me go right now

Take the shackles off my feet so I can dance
I just want to praise you
I just want to praise you
You broke the chains now I can lift my hands
And I'm gonna praise you
I'm gonna praise you