Moving On

A week or so ago I found myself on the couch, covered in cats, reading a book thinking I should be doing something else, that I shouldn’t be doing that when a year ago I was stuck on that very same couch. I try so hard to think I’m over everything. I don’t know why I think I have to be over it. I don’t know why I think I have to move on. This huge thing happened to me. I survived stage iv appendix cancer. I am living disease free. I want that to mean everything is normal again, but I’m really not sure it ever will. I know I will never be the same. I have to remember the mantra I wear on my wrist, Cancer is life-altering, but not defining.

20170819_193026I’ve made huge progress. I am starting to feel strong again. I feel like me, most of the time. I don’t want to be the girl who always talks about her cancer. I do not want to be that person. But I find myself being that person. I don’t want to be her. I want to just be me, Renee, not Renee who had cancer. I don’t think I can be that person. How do I not be that person?

Yes, I ran a 5k, but omg is running difficult. I have had lots of orthopedic injuries over the years, but starting over has never been like this. It’s like I have a new body, and I guess I do. While I am now a healthy weight I am much lighter than I used to be. I am minus more organs than I feel like typing out. I am not nearly as muscular as I used to be. For some extra motivation I have a 10k in October. I found myself a training plan and am kind of following it. Maybe I’ll be able to run 6.2 miles, maybe I’ll run/walk 6.2 miles. Whatever it is, I will finish. And for that I will be grateful.

20170901_193207On a positive note I got to go to the home opener for my beloved Wisconsin Badgers at Camp Randall. I posted that I almost cried. I did cry, which probably surprises none of you. I was so happy to be there. I know it might seem crazy to some of you that a football stadium is one of my favorite places in the world, but it is. That stadium will always be a special place to me. And to think I almost didn’t renew my tickets. This one game was worth it.

So I will continue to move forward and continue to move on and continue to be me. I am the girl who had cancer. I’m also so much more. I’m a daughter, a sister, an auntie, a friend. I am a runner, a yogi, a hiker. I read books and drink beer.

PS. Thanks for always listening to me and for accepting every me. I appreciate it. I appreciate you listening to me and letting me be me.

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2 thoughts on “Moving On

  1. It takes a while. You are more than your cancer. I am more than the death of a child and suicide of a spouse. But those are bold threads in tapestries of our lives. It takes a while to weave in more experiences, those that will act as a counterbalance to the bright, unwanted colors thrust upon our art, and to learn how to best leverage them. You will weave an incredible life that will be different than it would have been. Hence a different “normal”. You’re still trying on all the colors and textures, adjusting to the fit. Don’t rush.

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