One Full Step

This morning I walked downstairs one foot per step.

It has been nearly two months since I’ve had to use two feet per step as  my achilles tendons have been so tight – a side effect of the antibiotic I took for a sore throat.

It’s funny how much one takes for granted in terms of health.  I forgot that it used to hurt to take in a deep breath.  I realized that for some reason breathing was easier – I can fill my lungs more completely – but I forgot that it used to hurt to breathe.

I forgot that my stomach used to spasm all the time.  I think, I don’t know, that it was because cancer was growing on the tissue. The spasms almost felt like a baby kicking.  I certainly don’t miss them – but I forgot about them.

I have energy.  I get used to having energy.  My son David and I challenged ourselves to descending and then scaling a steep embankment leading to a stream at the bottom.  It was stenuous – and exhilarating.  I only stopped because I didn’t want to overdo things.

My hair is growing – I no longer look like a cancer patient but someone with a funky haircut.  My head does not get cold – I forget how cold it used to get.  I forget that people need to worry about using a brush or a comb – I forget that I used to worry about getting caught in the rain.  I forget that I used to worry about curling, straightening, or blow drying my hair – every morning.  Those are  good things to forget.  This – lack of product and tool use is my contribution to the reduction of CO2.  grin.

I am alive.  I forget how it felt to be negotiating death every day.  Not that I ever felt it was on my door – step.  It’s just that it was imminent.  It hovered just outside the window and I had to shoo it away every morning.

I have to purposefully remember to thank God for every day I have.

Every day is a gift.

Every opportunity to sing is a gift.

Every opportunity to make a memory with my children is a gift.  I want them to remember me by “something” we used to do together.

Every hug is a gift.

Every step — one full step — is a gift.

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About inmycorner

This blog began as an opportunity to tell my Dad's stories. I sat with him and the computer and together we told stories. It was a wonderful way to get to know Dad. He was 9. He and Mom had a wonderful life together and since she passed away a year and a half before him - Dad was ready to join her. I no longer tell his stories but have found stories of my own. The impetus to resume this blog was the discovery that I had stage 4 ovarian cancer. Since blogging had been so therapeutic for my dad and I to get through our grief, I felt maybe this would be a good outlet to process my situation. I also hoped it may serve as an outreach to anyone else who is facing this very ominous journey. So far, so good.
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10 Responses to One Full Step

  1. Gallivanta says:

    That’s wonderful to hear, Stacey. Is your daughter home already?

  2. Every day is a gift. You’re so right. Glad you are coming along.

    • inmycorner says:

      Thank – you , Cynthia. It feels so good to have energy again. Hoping these bursts will be longer and include mental bursts. People tire me out more quickly than hills do (grin). I’m trying to be less of a hermit now.

  3. Dawna says:

    Every sense is a gift—to smell, to see, to hear, to touch—-so very pleased that you are feeling better.

  4. kiwiskan says:

    Wonderful. Blessings

  5. pepe says:

    Yes, everyday is a gift…thank you for reminding me as well 😀

  6. Sometimes forgetting is a great sign.

    And every step in to life is so exhilarating! 🙂

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