Before the Milk Spoils - Surviving the Drain is Just the Beginning

When I was diagnosed with cancer in 1999 at the flighty age of 19, I always thought that survival was the "happily ever after" ending I was supposed to strive for. Twelve and a half years later, I know better.

While battling cancer for 5 years, enduring many surgeries and finding the delicate balance between health and happiness was certainly the struggle of my life, the battle really began the day I was told I was cancer-free.

Sounds crazy, right? Perhaps, but it's true. You suddenly know firsthand how much you stand to lose, you worry about a re-occurrence and you begin your mission to make a difference in the world. After all, who wants their funeral to be full of people attending only out of obligation? (My biggest issue)

The more time that passes, these fears/goals/obsessions become more mild but they are forever rooted in our psyche. I will catch myself on occasion getting teary-eyed while looking at my sons. I have so much more to lose now than I did as a single, childless 19-year-old. The "what ifs" continue to haunt me.

I'm reminded of this side of cancer on days like today; the side nobody speaks of because we're programmed to merely express gratitude for surviving. An oncologist friend of mine and fellow cancer survivor found out he has the advanced stages of esophageal cancer recently. A man who has a beautiful wife and children, dedicates his career to helping those with cancer, regularly supports the American Cancer Society, conducts mission trips to Haiti and makes an immensely positive impact in the world. All the things we're supposed to do following the "happily ever after" ending of cancer survival, right?

Except, it doesn't seem so RIGHT. In fact, it seems so backwards that it makes my head spin. I'm a street corner hope-pusher and a firm believer in a positive outlook but the reality is that sometimes ignorance IS bliss. Before a cancer diagnosis, we live freely (although frivolously) but without the reality of an unknown expiration date. After a cancer diagnosis, we are like that borderline jug of milk that you have to sniff a few times, wondering if it's still good or if it's ready to dispose down the drain.

I guess all I can do is hope we complement one more bowl of Cheerios or provide one more splash in a warm cup of coffee. But, I'm lactose intolerant. Kind of ironic.

When Your "Ah-ha!" Moment Follows the Downward Dog...

I don't know about you but my profound "Ah-ha" moments come at the strangest times. A friend of mine is running in the NY City Marathon on behalf of the Michael J. Fox Foundation. She organized a Yoga class scheduled for this evening to raise funds for the cause. Parkinson's disease has touched her family and if I am available to help a worthwhile cause, I'm there!

Tonight was my first time attending a Yoga class, although it's been something that I have wanted to try for months. I arrived a little nervous...not about the new experience because I'm an adventurer at heart, but nervous because I'm a complete klutz and didn't want to end up headfirst into the wood floors. The instructor and other attendees were all very welcoming and warm and as the class began, I found out that maybe I hadn't given myself enough credit. Utilizing the form adjustments from the instructor, I faired pretty well.

At the end of the class, we were all supposed to lay down and meditate. Here's where I fell apart. My mind doesn't know how to relax. I constantly have ideas, thoughts and work persistently floating through my brain at any given moment. I tried to meditate...I REALLY did. But, I found myself looking around the room instead. Everyone was so peaceful and genuinely relaxed. They had smiles on their faces and seemed to just melt into the floor.

Envious of their ability to shut down, my over-active mind started thinking about the last time that I actually slept well. I'm not talking about a flukey single night of decent rest. I mean REAL, consistent sleep. And within a 2-minute span of time, I hit the most profound "Ah-ha" moment that I've had in ages.

I realized that my sleep issues began around the time of my cancer diagnosis back in 1999. I went from being a teenager with little direction to a driven adult determined to make a positive difference in this world...seemingly overnight. That determination which has had numerous positive effects on my life as well as the lives of many others, is what has caused my insomnia. I always feel like I can do just one more productive thing today....just "in case". I can write one more article for a client, I can make one more blog post, I can help one more non-profit...the list goes on and on.

This entire epiphany came rushing all at once and was POWERFUL! I began tearing up as I laid on my yoga mat and the emotions were overwhelming. I tried to mentally talk myself out of it and wipe my tears before the meditation time was over. I was successful and grateful for the experience.

So, I failed Meditation 101 but I still left that Yoga room with a lot more than I entered with. I'm not sure this revelation will help me sleep any better. Afterall, my goals are still the same. But, anytime we can learn about ourselves both personally and professionally, whether good or bad, it is a step in the right direction.

Today, I am thankful for my family, friends, clients and supporters. I promise to continue making a positive difference to those who need it most. And, I'll TRY to alleviate a bit of pressure on myself. None of us are promised tomorrow so I will try to feel satisfied with the accomplishments I have completed today.

Mostly, I am thankful to my friend for inviting me to partake in her Yoga class and especially for her philanthropic spirit.

Namaste! (I learned that today) :-)

Sabrina K. Carpenter