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.
I’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.
On 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.
365 days ago I was diagnosed with cancer. 365 days ago my life changed in an instant. Over the past 365 days I have had two surgeries, one was 12 hours long, 8 rounds of chemo, lost my hair, 3 small procedures, so many scans I won’t even try to count (and had to drink gross contrast solution), spent 5 weeks in the hospital, actually thought about death in a very real and scary way, healed, had two sets of clean scans, and most importantly become myself again. I read something recently about celebrating your cancerversary (which I think is stupid) and I refuse to ever celebrate being diagnosed. Instead I will continue to celebrate living.
I still cry over things (including writing this post), it’s amazing what triggers me, but not in the same way I did a year ago. I almost cried at yoga this morning thinking about it all but my amazing instructor set today’s intention to “now” and it was perfect. I am still so sensitive/sad over my hair that it makes me cry almost once a week. Please, please don’t tell me it looks good. That doesn’t help and doesn’t have anything to do with how I feel about it. I will say this 1000 times if I have to. I didn’t choose this. I didn’t think I was going to lose my hair. And I did. And it was traumatic. And I will have to deal with that for as long as it takes me.
I have learned and been reminded of how utterly amazing the human race is. Terrible things happen every day and there are horrible people in the world, but I was surrounded by the most amazing people. All of you out there in the world that visited me, sent me cards, sent flowers, sent good wishes, reconnected with me, sent socks and coloring books, sent meals, paid to have my house cleaned: I can’t imagine the last year without each and every one of you. I have read countless posts about people’s friends and family disappear during cancer diagnosis and treatment and I never once felt that. Not once.
Also in the last 365 days, I traveled to Brooklyn for a wedding, Seattle for Thanksgiving, Phoenix to relax and while each one of those trips had limitations, some much larger than others, I was still able to go. I was weak, but determined in Brooklyn. I was sick and miserable in Seattle, but so happy to be surrounded by family. I was weak and tired in Phoenix, but so so happy I got to spend time with my cousins. I started running again. I started going to yoga again. I started going to Barre classes. I’ve gone kayaking. I’ve gone hiking. I raced a 5k. If you asked me 365 days ago if I thought any of that was going to be possible I would have said no. While a lot of the last 365 days were miserable and scary and unpredictable and awful; there were also so many good days.
I went in for my six month scans on Monday morning. Six months from the worst surgery you can imagine. Six months to become myself again, to have my body back. Six months. It’s also a year from when this all started. The worst, scariest, most difficult year of my life. One day while on vacation I actually opened Timehop and found this post. I had no idea how true that stupid tweet was. I had no idea that I had tumor growing inside me, but I did know something was wrong with me. It was only a few weeks after tweeting this that I went in to see my primary care doctor and my life changed forever.
I went to yoga last night. It was a Yin class. Yin yoga is more passive and slow-paced and exactly what I needed. I really thought I wouldn’t be able to do much, but really I was able to do almost everything. My body remembers yoga! I want to take a minute to give a shout out to Robyn at 
I keep being amazed by what my body remembers and what I am able to do. My body remembers how to run. My body remembers how to bike. The human body is an amazing thing. Mine has been through hell and back in the last year, but it’s finally my body again. I’ve moved up to walk 3 minutes/run 2 minutes and am running under a 10:00 minute pace during those 2 minutes. It feels so good to run again. I’m taking it slow and at some point I’ll be fully running again. I’ve decided to be reasonable and nice to my body and mind and not even try to run a half marathon until spring 2018. I’m running the 
I didn’t get to run Ragnar Chicago this year. It would have been year 7 for me. It got difficult for me when race week hit. I volunteered for my team instead. That was a lot of fun and made me not miss running it as much. Plus at 9:30 I got to go have a beer with my fellow volunteers, then go home and sleep in a bed. It was fun and I’m really glad I volunteered for it. I’m still part of the running community and that never went away.
On Monday I was sore from yard work. That has to be one of the most normal things I’ve said in months. I mowed my own lawn. I planted flowers. I cleaned my house. I did laundry. All on my own. This is a big step. I still had to sit down and rest a few times. And watch an episode of Billions. But I was able to do all of that.