A list, and that acceptance I was talking about

1.       I have to say, “Please use my left arm” when telling the nurse which arm I “prefer” to get my blood drawn from or my blood pressure taken. I don’t “prefer” the left arm, it’s just that the right side had three lymph nodes removed during my mastectomy and I have to be extra cautious as lymphedema could develop. For the rest of my life I have to be careful not to wear too-tight jewelry on my right arm and fingers; not burn it or cut it or expose it to extreme heat or cold; don’t go in a sauna as that could produce swelling; protect it from bites and rashes; and try not to sleep on it.

Sometimes when I have to get anesthesia (like most recently for my colonoscopy), the nurse had to put my blood pressure cuff on my leg since my IV was already on my left arm.

In the interest of “accepting” what makes me sad, I’ve compiled a list of little teensy things I think about, that when they happen, they make me sad. When I think of these things I quickly dismiss them. But now I want to give them attention. All in the interest of acceptance.

2.       When I’m running and I can feel my silicone implants (usually the right one) sloshing around.

3.       When we’re with the personal trainer and I try to do a pull up for the first time (since elementary school?) and I realize I have no, NO, strength in my chest whatsoever. Even after months of physical therapy following my surgeries. Even after months of yoga. Even after push-ups and planks and running and cycling and weight-lifting. I just hung there, with no ability whatsoever to pull myself up. (So we resorted to me only using my ab muscles to pull my knees up and in, which worked. Our trainer and Sean had to lift me up the first few times, but during cycles 2 and 3 I was able to do them myself.) (And on a side side note: I do believe I will be able to do these eventually. One year ago I couldn’t do a push up or plank and now I can plank like a boss. Push-ups are still rough, but planking? Yes, sir. So I believe with practice I will be able to do a pull-up.)

4.       When I’m changing in the locker room at the gym and I have to change bras. Part of me wants to be like “F this, I’m going to change at my own pace because this is my body and I’m not ashamed of it” and part of me wants to change really, really fast to “protect” the other ladies from seeing a reconstructed chest, which clearly doesn’t look “normal” for someone in her 20s.

Honestly, at the time of me writing this post, only four things pop into my mind. And then I become overwhelmed with things that make me happy, things I love about my life and things I am grateful for.

It feels good to address these things and type them out as a way for me to say “hey, these things are real, these feelings are real, they exist and I can move forward.”

I’ll never be able to fully explain in writing the gratitude I feel every day in my everyday life for the beautiful people, things, moments, opportunities and experiences I’ve been blessed with. Those blessings and my gratitude make up most of my life (99.9999999999999 percent). BECAUSE of what I’ve been given, I write, I share, I plan, I run, I experience, I plan. To get more and to get the most out of life, because I love my life and I am the happiest and healthiest I’ve ever been. And I actually said that a few years ago, and each day it seems to be more and more true.

And I fully believe in order for me to heal I have to address, in real-life examples, where my sadness is hiding. Because when it’s out in the open I can live more fully.

I’ve never been good at hiding feelings from myself and others. I am literally an open book. Everyone who knows me knows that. I am the worst liar. I can’t lie. Which is a huge benefit in so many ways, including being able to fully understand my own thoughts and feelings. And that is another thing I’m grateful for: that I know my strengths and weaknesses and that I work every day to address them.

1.       I may have to be extra careful with my right arm, and I may be reminded each time I get blood drawn (which is every four months) about my breast cancer, but my right arm is here and it works really, really well. And I’m here, and I work really, really well.

2.       I may feel my implants sloshing when I run, but I can run, and I can run really, really well. And my implants may not be me and they may be gel and gooey, but they are really quite amazing, and actually having them makes me feel really good about my body.

3.       I may have less-than-normal chest strength following six surgeries to my chest, but I already know I can regain it. And I will do so really, really well.

4.       One sentence: who ISN’T self-conscious changing in the locker room?

I’m satisfied with this list, which likely will change. Everyone has their lists. And everyone’s lists change as life changes and different things matter while other things just don’t.

Today, these things are what make me sad. These are thoughts that cross my mind for a split second before I rapidly dispose of them in an effort to maintain “fighting Marjie.”

Today, these things are addressed. And another lesson is learned. Another challenge accepted.

More growing, evolving, learning. More things to add to the “happy list.”