I’m not going to bury the lead. In the space of 2 weeks and a day, I went from a 2nd place master’s (women) finish at Spokane’s Bloomsday 12k to an operating room at Seattle’s Swedish Hospital, complete with oncologist, anesthesiologist, surgical resident and assorted nurses.
For someone who prefers order and predictability, life has been a real doozie lately. We don’t always get to choose our own adventures. Apparently it’s my turn to live life by the seat of my pants.
A week before Bloomsday I threw out my back, lost my job, and started down the road (into? out of?) cervical cancer. These are all less-than-ideal outcomes. And yet
hobbling striding confidently to the starting line at Bloomsday, I felt completely liberated. It was a last hurrah. I had nothing to lose and left it all out there on the course.
Though I’m not someone who is overly anxious about worst-case-scenarios, I do keep a mental list of some of those possibilities. And will admit to dedicating a certain amount of low-level of stress to them. The funny thing about that stress, though? I think it’s worse in the anticipation of it than when it actually happens.
An unplanned day or two off of running would normally set me down a path of anxious restlessness. Yet I’m looking down the barrel at a minimum of 2-3 weeks off, more likely 8-10+ weeks, and feel fine. Curious, even, about how this whole non-running adventure will unfold. I have an oncologist. Those are words, like “my defense attorney”, that no one wants to say. And yet I’m oddly nonchalant. This might stop at a pre-cancer diagnosis. Or, it may carry on into something more complicated. You take things step by step and see what happens.
It’s funny how life works. The guys for whom I worked sold their catering company and now I have a freed-up schedule to fill with appointments and trips to Seattle. Though Mike and I hardly saw each other this weekend due to a kids’ swim meet in Federal Way, we had a nice little date day yesterday pre- and post-surgical procedure. And as I await the results of yesterday’s biopsy, and prepare for a possible (likely) hysterectomy in two weeks, I feel myself again somewhat liberated. Yes, I’m losing the fitness I worked so hard to build up this winter/spring. But that’s out of my control. And there’s an inherent sense of adventure in not knowing what the future holds.