Trying to Breathe When You’re Holding Your Breath

Life in the waiting space

I was told there would be miniature schnauzer photos. And also cookies.

As of today, we are in the phase where I think my answer to almost any question, especially if it involves any planning beyond a few hours from now, is: “I don’t know.” Am I going to attend my performance review meeting for work this week? I don’t know. Will we be able to drop off the dog for her grooming appointment tomorrow? I don’t know. What days will my son need to get the bus home from school? I don’t know. Will I eat chocolate chip cookies today? Yes. [Some things are still near-certainty!] When will we get the scan results? I don’t know. While we wait for the call for that appointment, life feels like it’s moving hour by hour, not in increments of days or much less weeks. 

I would love to tell you that this experience of living hour to hour is one of peace and bliss, that I am so centered and full of joy that it feels like a delight to be present to each moment. That would not be true. I am not enjoying living in this waiting space—and yet I also want it to stretch out just a little longer. Just a little more waiting space, measured in days, before we move to the next phase that might hold scheduling and certainty which will be even more difficult than today’s challenge to wait. 

Breathing Exercises

The drive to Perth and the experience of the CT scan on Friday all went well. Of all the scans and machines, the CT scan is my favorite. The table is more comfortable, it’s relatively quick, and if you have the contrast dye it feels like you wet your pants (but you don’t!) which I do find hilarious. Over the weekend, my pain levels fluctuated, as expected, but have been manageable. My mobility has worsened, however, less due to pain than to increasing wobbliness. I’ve chatted with my oncology team, and we’re hoping that some medication adjustments will help. 

And how are we filling this hour-by-hour life so far, these breathing exercises to keep us moving even as we hold our breath? 

Routine and rhythm: Sleeping, waking, eating, exercising (OK, not so much exercise happening from me, but the rest of my family is keeping it up!), walking the dogs, reading, watching a Saturday night movie together, watching a Sunday morning church service together—these keep me breathing in and out.

Work: Thankfully I’ve still been able to work, and the feeling of being in a productive space and working on my projects has been a welcome focus away from scans and plans. 

Friends: Happy Yellow Shoes were able to go on my first outing that was not a medical appointment in over two months. Our Covid restrictions now allow indoor gatherings, and we were able to see friends to drink Lemon Drops and watch funny videos and pray together.

Joy Nuggets: I’ve created folders with photos and notes and messages that people have sent, and it has been one of my favorite activities to scroll through them. Better than online shoe shopping, even. When I have felt especially tired and low-energy, these yellow shoes photos and pet photos and emoji-filled texts and emailed prayers and songs ranging from Lauren Daigle to Kendrick Lamar have provided needed space to sit and breathe.

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Breathe in . . . Breathe Out

There is a refrain in this song that has been my ear worm (in a good way!) in the past few days: Breathe in . . . breathe out. I have not always been centered or present or full of joy in this waiting space. But I am thankful for the gifts that have helped me to keep breathing, trusting that the Breath of the Spirit breathes for us even when we are holding our breath.