I used to push myself until I literally dropped. I AM getting better at recognizing the “Do Not Cross this Line,” sign, but I am still having a really, really hard time obeying it. I don’t want to slow down and I don’t want to miss out on life. I am guessing that is why my new theme song, “Ain’t Never Gonna’ Break My Stride” found me.
|Jack, my grandson|
It had been ages since I was at the beach, and I had forgotten just how healing that the ocean can be. I wanted to walk for miles soaking in the breeze and the scenery. As it was, we walked from one area of the beach to another; over rocks and sand dunes. Of course the sand “dunes” were really only “dunes” to the small crabs, but they were still a bit challenging to me! The beach that we were on was staggeringly beautiful. There were cliff and caves, and since we were there at low tide, there were tide pools; full of sea life, everywhere. If it hadn't been for all of the hungry tummies I could’ve stayed there for many more hours.
|Two of my Kids; LeeAnn and Kevin|
I will tell you, to my credit, that when given the option to “walk” or “drive” the short distance to Baja Taco, my heart said walk, and for the first time, I allowed my brain to take over and say “drive.” It damn near killed me because my very “being” screamed WALK; WALK! What I really wanted to do was RUN, run away from the restrictions and consequences of having cancer. I wanted to do what I have always done; live in the moment and not have to pay for it later. I mean how stupidly insane; I have to choose to drive a few blocks because my body has already pushed its’ allotment of movement for one day? Ugh, Cancer Sucks!
I suppose that this is why I currently push myself, to my breaking point, so often. I think that I am afraid that as time goes on, my activity allotment will decrease and I will be even more limited than I am now. That the cancer will slowly continue to suck my energy, little by little, until my walk down the beach, turns into sitting in a chair at the beach, like some decrepit old woman, watching the children play as opposed to playing with them. Sitting around watching is so; NOT in my make-up.
I feel as though, as long as I keep pushing, I might have a chance to push the damn cancer right out of my body. Push, push, push and pray, pray, pray! Maybe someday, after one of my random blood tests, the doctor will simply say, “I just don’t understand what has happened, but your leukemia has simply disappeared!” Until then, I am going to continue to test my “Do Not Cross This Line” threshold. I am going to see if I can extend its’ limits and learn to recognize its’ absolute ending point. I hope to avoid crossing the no turning back now, relapse point, but if in the process of learning the new language I do, I know that I will have had fun doing so!
Isn’t it truly curious, that testing my strength actually requires taking it away?
|The end of our walk|