I've been cut loose.
I'm not really sure what to do with myself.
I keep thinking I'll be going to the Cancer Center this week for my usual schedule around 10 a.m., and then I have to remind myself, no, I don't need to do that anymore, and no, I won't be going. I've chased my tail several times like this today.
I decided to take a walk, and it was the longest and most strenuous one I've taken in months. I really pushed myself. A couple of times I almost called Husband and said "Pick me up. I went too far. I don't think I can make it home."
I didn't make the call. I kept pushing. Although my body wanted to stop, my brain was urging me on. Maybe you saw me, all bundled up in my pink hoody, long pink scarf wrapped around and around my neck, and my head covered in one of the cute little hats Kimberly's Mama made for me. The pink and purple one with a small crocheted flower at my temple.
It was cold and foggy, and the moist air filled my lungs as I panted through my neighborhood, going farther and farther. When it was time to head for home, and up the hill that had been much easier coming down, I wondered "What were you thinking Girl, what were you thinking?" My right foot chimed in "Yeah, what were you thinking?"
Something happens though when you push through the pain. Something happens when you are working every muscle and breathing hard. Something happens when your body is telling you "no" but your brain is saying "oh yes you will, oh yes you will." My spirit held out and my body gave in, and I felt such a release of tension through my neck and shoulders and upper back. My feet and legs were aching and complaining, but I didn't listen, my upper body and brain felt so good.
I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time, other than a sweat! Like I was taking something back. Or maybe claiming something. Embracing yes instead of accepting no.
I don't know how to describe it to you.
I remembered the red wristband that held the key to locker number three in the radiation waiting room, and that I had taken a picture of it resting on my lap.
Relentless in my commitment to myself.