Victory Garden

Victory Garden

It may be a bit premature to declare victory over cancer. I am not quite four months post-diagnosis. I have one surgery behind me. I am half way through my six rounds of chemotherapy and am still facing six weeks of radiation after chemo, and, potentially, three more surgeries. That being said, from the very start, I only considered one possible outcome for this circumstance. It will be victory over cancer. When my doctors started showing me percentages for this and that, my only comment was that I intended to stay on the right side of these percentages, no matter what that takes. I am not finished with my life on this planet. I have so much to live for. I see it in the faces of my young daughters. I feel it when I plan future road trips and travel adventures with my boyfriend. I have nothing but excitement and happiness when I think about the rest of my life. Maybe the difficulties I have had in the last few years, culminating in the discovery of cancer in my body, were the wake-up call I needed to reset my life onto the right path. It certainly has made me re-evaluate my priorities. I am improving my eating habits, eliminating stress and negativity from my life. I am taking more time for important things, such as time with my kids, time for exercise, time for fun and lots of laughter!

So where does the garden come in, you may be thinking? Well, to celebrate the return of spring after this brutal winter, as well as a way of marking my halfway point in chemotherapy prior to tackling round 4 (yesterday), I called on a group of family and close friends to come help me tackle my neglected back yard. I bought a deteriorating duplex on the verge of foreclosure two and a half years ago, and have been working gradually to restore it to its glory. The backyard was so overgrown with weeds when I moved in that I nearly lost my children back there, yet that project always seemed to get set on the back burner. I knew I wanted to work on it this spring, yet, still weak from surgery and less than energetic from chemo, I also knew it was time to take my friends up on offers of assistance. I couldn’t have done it without them.

I am so grateful for the help. It was a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon. I spent the week buying native perennials, veggies for a nice healthy vegetable garden, and blueberries, blackberries and strawberries (because I took the girls to the garden center with me). Of course, I stocked up on beer, soda, water and food to take care of all those who put in hard work to get the back yard in shape. I’m amazed at how much we accomplished. In a few hours, we churned up a lot of dirt, pulled weeds, added topsoil and mulch, planted a whole veggie garden, as well as a great perennial garden with a perfect spot for my hammock. To borrow a lovely sentiment from a friend who expressed, “I thought of my chemo as roundup…a weed killer…so my garden could grow!”.  My backyard will always remind me of the wonderful love and support I am blessed with in my life. That is what my victory garden represents to me.

The Early Bird Gets the…

Freshest air, apparently.

sunrise-and-birds

I have always been a morning person. In fact, I prefer to be up before the sunrise. Since I moved into my new apartment, my routine has been to settle on my east facing couch with my cup of coffee and wait for the sun to rise. It’s my zen moment of each day, my chance to reflect on things, organize my thoughts and prepare myself for the chaos that usually envelopes the rest of my day.

For this reason, I have been fascinated by a particular story in the book I am reading. The book is called “Radical Remission”, and the author follows the stories of people who have beaten cancer against all odds. The story that caught my attention is about a man sent home because there was nothing more the doctors could do for him. He woke before the sunrise and was grateful for another day. Each day, he went to his rooftop to take in the sunrise, feeling that each day truly was a gift as he prepared to die. He focused on the energy from the sun and his breathing. Then he began to notice that the birds were singing well before sunrise. Curious to track when the birds began to sing, he woke earlier and earlier each day, until he discovered that they always started 42 minutes before the sun rose, even though the sun rises at a slightly different time every day. Further researching why this would be, he found that trees start photosynthesizing as soon as it gets light out, which happens to be 42 minutes before the sun rises each day, and that the birds are taking advantage of this peak time of fresh air. His take from this was that deep breathing exercises at this time of the day provides a maximum amount of oxygen.

My days and nights have been a bit mixed up lately, as I’ve struggled with insomnia, so I am usually wide awake around 3:30am. Yes, 3:30am. I like mornings, but this is a bit ridiculous, even for me. What these sleepless nights are doing, though, is provoking thoughts about the man’s theory about the birds. In the past, I recall wondering why I was hearing birds in, what felt to be, the middle of the night. Now that I am aware of this interesting fact, I am listening for the birds. Yesterday, I started hearing birds at 4:51, and sunrise was at 5:34. Today, I heard birds at 4:48 and sunrise was at 5:32. This is pretty fascinating in my opinion. Almost fascinating enough to set an alarm 52 minutes before sunrise every day to track when the birds start, as my own little scientific experiment.

Almost.

But I know that sleep is also crucial to my healing, so I prefer to try to sleep when I can these days.  I’ll just put my trust in the fact that the birds know what they are doing. They are far more in tune with nature’s rhythms than most humans are.   That being said, maybe, instead of my cup of coffee while waiting for the sun to rise each day, I will open a window and focus on my deep, healing breaths.