Deer in the Headlight

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Picture this-it is early morning on a twisty country road along the mighty Mississippi River. The sun is just beginning to rise, pink light playing on the leaves. Fog is clinging in the shadows. The deer are very active and darting all around me. I figure I face two options. I can either stay in bed, postpone the ride, allowing the fear of hitting a deer paralyze me with “what if”. Or I can fire up the bike and go experience the twists in the road. Taking time to appreciate the cool morning air, the beauty all around, even though there might be dangers at any curve. I’ve learned a lot about fear over the last few years. Now, given a choice, I’ll alway chose to jump in, take the chance, and experience life fully.

How did I get here? Beginning in May, I started struggling with heart palpitations and shortness of breath. By the end of May, all of the tests on my heart came back with the all clear. The next step would be to test my lungs. I was feeling frustrated with medical tests with no answers. Andy was out of town presenting at the Overland Expo in Flagstaff. Restless, I decided that I needed some throttle therapy. It was a hot weekend. I loaded up the bike and headed west to camp along the Mississippi river. I spent the night in the hammock tent at Wyalusing State Park, high on the river bluffs. Large storms passed through in the early morning hours, I watched the rain and lightning from my perch overlooking the river. I woke up to a very soggy campsite, so there was no reason to linger. I loaded the bike for an early start on the great river road. I packed up camp and got on the road at 6:30 am. I had a lot of miles ahead of me and I was excited to ride.

Occasionally on the ride, a deer would cross the road in front of me and I would feel myself tense up with fear. When I noticed the tension, I’d take a deep breath, slow down a bit, and let the fear go. Proceeding a little more cautiously, my mind wandered, as often happens when I’m getting my throttle therapy. I made a connection between the fear of hitting a deer on my motorcycle and the fear of cancer re-impacting my life. The analogy bounced around my mind. It became crystal clear and gave me some degree of comfort. Simply, I concluded, there is only so much that can be done to prevent bad things from happening. After taking precautions, all you can do is let go and trust that things will be alright. Things out of your control will happen whether you fear it or not. There is no reason to paralyze yourself with irrational fear over things that are out of your control. I will not let the fear that something bad MIGHT happen prevent me from doing the things I love. That is not living.

 

On this particular ride, I decided to slow down and watch carefully for deer crossing, but also committed to relaxing and enjoying the ride as fully as possible, embracing the cool morning air and the curves in the road. Deer are unpredictable. If a deer decided to dart out into the road, too close to avoid collision, it would be outside of my control. Cancer, also unpredictable, can return despite all the efforts to eat well, exercise, and avoid carcinogens. Once we take reasonable precautions to keep safe on the motorcycle or maintain our health, all that’s left is to is to live and let life happen. I, for one, am not going to allow fear to stop me from doing the things I love. I put 500 miles on the Suzuki that day. The deer and I stayed out of each other’s way, and I met up with Andy in Hannibal, MO, where we had a great night exploring a new town. Fear did not stop me.

We rode home together, and I saw my Medical Oncologist a few weeks later. She saw that all of my heart tests were clear, yet my complaint of shortness of breath put her on alert and she scheduled me immediately for a chest x-ray and CT scan. I suppose that, as a cancer patient, red flags go up faster than with other patients. The first step is always to rule out the serious stuff. That we did. With clean scan results, I proceeded with my plans for a big party celebrating my marriage. The rest of the summer was spent on an epic “family-moon” with my husband and my daughters. We had many adventures along the way and made great memories. Had we sat home worrying about “what ifs,” we never would have enjoyed a trip like this.

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I frequently find comfort in the analogy I dreamed up during that early morning riding along the Mississippi. I remind myself that the fear itself is not tangible. Fear of danger on the motorcycle, or fear of cancer are “maybes” out of our control. The thing we fear may or may not happen, so why let it control our lives? The fear may feel real, but fear can be controlled and overcome. We can control the fear. We have limited control over accidents. We have limited control over cancer, but we can control the fear of these things. We can control how we face these things. I will not stop doing things I love due to something that may never happen.

These are the lessons I learned when facing the deer in the headlight that day on the river. In motorcycling, prepare yourself. Always improve on your riding skills, wear safety gear, stay alert for the unexpected. If a deer crosses your path, you will be ready. Then enjoy the ride. In life, prepare yourself for health. Exercise, reduce stress, eat healthy food, listen to what your body needs, stay alert for the unexpected. Then enjoy the joys of living a full life. You’ll be ready.

Throttle Therapy

Memorial Day Weekend was approaching, and I had nothing planned. My kids were scheduled to be with their dad, my family picnic had been postponed, my boyfriend was out of town, soon to be returning from a two week motorcycle trip across the country (www.traveling250.com), and the weather was going to be beautiful. That’s saying a lot for a Memorial Day Weekend in Wisconsin, which is usually over-scheduled and has a 50-50 chance of being miserably cold and rainy.

Memorial Day Weekend this year would also be day five and six of my current round of chemotherapy. Days, which, in the past, have proven to be low points for me. I knew one thing, though, I was not going to sit home and wait for side effects to kick in. I was feeling really healthy, so, at the last minute, I started toying with the idea of meeting my boyfriend somewhere along his route home. By motorcycle. The idea of getting out of town, taking a break from all the medical stuff, getting out there on my bike, and seeing Andy a little sooner was very appealing.

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We started discussing places to meet. He mentioned New Glarus, a quaint little Swiss village southwest of Madison. It would be an easy ride for me, and sounded nice, but I soon found that I couldn’t get a room in New Glarus due to a music festival which was taking place. So, looking at my map, I thought Mineral Point looked like another good choice. I really knew nothing about Mineral Point, but judging from the research I did online, it looked like a nice place for a quiet getaway. The town was formed in the 1830s and 40s, and being a fan of historic architecture, I thought I would find it interesting. And, it is in the driftless area of Wisconsin, which means beautiful, rolling motorcycle roads. I splurged a little and booked a really amazing looking room for Saturday night.

I woke up Saturday morning feeling great and super giddy for my road trip. I had arranged to ride out of town with my good friend, Mary. We would ride together until lunch time, at which point we would go our separate ways. It was perfect motorcycling weather. Sunny and warm. We had an uneventful ride out (except for that one playful dear along the side of the road) and stopped for a leisurely lunch at a favorite place.

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After lunch, I continued west. As I got close to Madison I decided to get off the highway and onto quieter country roads. The smells, the sights, the serene experience, passing through small towns, was just what I needed. This is what I affectionately call “throttle therapy”. It is the rejuvenating power I feel when I ride my motorcycle. Once I got past Madison, the roads got quieter and stretched out in gentle curves in front of me. I was feeling great!

Even though we didn’t set a meeting time, and we had different distances to cover, we arrived at the hotel within minutes of each other. Right on the main street, but tucked away with a hidden garden entrance, our room was remarkable. It had masonry walls filled with whimsical art built into the walls, a kitchenette and living room filled with books about the art and architecture of Mineral Point, a claw foot bathtub and bedroom up a set of stairs. I knew instantly that this was just what the doctor ordered.

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We had a wonderful dinner, wine and even saved room for dessert (because, let’s be honest, I can’t resist chocolate cake with red wine) at the Brewery Creek Brewpub. There was time for a soak in the claw foot tub and a great night’s sleep. In the morning, the sun was streaming in, past the gardens where the motorcycles were parked and through the stained glass decorations in the window. I made some tea and curled up on the couch, looking through some of the interesting books that filled the place. It was a beautifully peaceful morning.

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We learned that we simply cannot leave Mineral Point without sampling figgyhobbin, a Cornish pastry filled with a mix of raisins, walnuts, brown sugar, and butter and covered with caramel sauce and whipped cream. Glad we took that advice and tried the figgyhobbin, we found that it was the perfectly sweet end to a perfectly sweet getaway.

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