How to ask for help. I’ve always been stubborn and independent. I took a lot of pride in being self-sufficient about certain things. For me, asking for and receiving help quietly are hard to do. But being able to do so makes life so much easier.

I’m stronger than I thought. Not because of the things that have happened to me, but because of how I’ve chosen to deal with them.

When it comes to TV and movies, lighthearted is the way to go. If I’m going to escape into something, I want it to be enjoyable.

Life goes on. No matter how devastating something is, I still have to wake up the next day and go on with my life.

The saying “you can never go home again” is not true. In 2011, I moved back home  after seven years of being away. And I actually love being back. For years, I challenged myself to go outside of my comfort zone because I thought it was good for me, but that doesn’t make me happy. Being comfortable in my environment does.

Shaved poodles are kind of frightening. Poor Archie had a rough year too.

I used to take my fitness for granted. Not everyone can run, strength train, do yoga, or even move their body with ease. I can’t believe I never acknowledged how lucky I was to live pain-free before, and instead spent too much time wanting to be in better shape. Pfft.

Money can’t buy happiness, but it can improve my quality of life. In 2010, I chased my dreams and found work I loved. Work I spent 14 hours a day doing and still struggled to pay my bills with. In 2011, I settled down and accepted an 8-4 desk job with a better paycheck. It doesn’t sound as fancy as chasing my dreams, but it’s a lot more satisfying in completely different ways. I really enjoy having a life outside of work rather than have work be my life.

Pets are good for your health. Getting a dog during treatment was one of the best decisions I ever made. There were concerns in the beginning he might put me at risk of illness because dogs aren’t “clean.” But my family and I work at making sure he’s always sanitized, and I will argue to the death that dogs can do amazing things for your mood and spirit. Buster kept me strong in other ways by putting a smile on my face every single day.

Happiness isn’t something that needs to be chased down or found. Oftentimes it can come to me wherever I am in the world just by opening myself up to it.

Having all the free time in the world is only an advantage when you feel well enough to do something with that time. Being unable to leave bed for days at a time is mind-numbingly boring. For those of you who complain about having too much to do, being stuck doing nothing can be just as bad.

You can, and should, french toast just about anything.

It is so, so important I find ways to feel proud of myself outside of what I am physically capable of doing. Being fit is great, but it shouldn’t be my only source of self worth. I don’t love my legs because of what they do for me, I love my legs because they are mine. I need hobbies that don’t just rely on the abilities of my body, because I can lose those abilities in a second.

I can’t let the opinions of others dictate how I deal with things. Anyone who has been ill, injured, or hell, pregnant, knows that some people feel like they are suddenly allowed to give unsolicited advice. Just because so-and-so went through a similar ordeal does not mean I’m going to go through my own ordeal in the same way. Some days I actually felt guilty for feeling so sick after chemo because I heard of others who didn’t. Or I felt like a wuss when I still couldn’t lift 10lbs months after my arm surgery. In reality, I am the only one who sets the bar with how I deal with my own unique situation.

Memorable Posts From 2011:

And just like that, my life changed…

Why I’m No Longer A ‘Healthy LIving Blogger’

A long, hard road

Three Weeks To A Diagnosis

Numbers

Radically Free

Lemon Cake For Three

The One About The Hair

Why Your Body Can’t (and Shouldn’t) Make You Happy

Time

Baking With Spoons

The Last Word On Body Weight

On Betrayal Of The Body

I started 2011 in January feeling sick. I had a 10-day fever in the first couple weeks. On February 11, I shattered my elbow and had reconstructive surgery. For months I struggled with a slow and frustrating recovery while learning how to live my life now being physically limited. Just as I started a new job and scheduled a follow-up surgery to hopefully fix my arm for good, I was diagnosed with cancer on June 22. I’ve been sick and weak every day since. I had what will hopefully be my last cancer treatment on December 21, and will take what will hopefully be my last cancer related drug on December 31.

2011 has hands down been the hardest, most challenging year of my life. I have grown and learned a lot. A lot of which I can appreciate, none of which I really cared to deal with so early in life.

I would just like to give a big “fuck you” to 2011. I am happy to see this shit year end. I’m not naive enough to believe that it will all be over when the clock strikes midnight. But I’m really fucking happy to shake 2011 off and face 2012 with a renewed sense of optimism and energy.

So here’s to a great New Year!!

Somewhere after treatment #6 three and a half weeks ago, I started to run out of steam. The physical, mental, and emotional aspects of the treatments and having cancer started to get to me. Rightfully so I think, as this is a journey with a lot of peaks and valleys. With that said though, I think it’s important to climb my way out of those valleys.

A lot of my feeling good is just a combination of side effects and coincidences. First and foremost, the weather has been great. We’ve lucked out with a beautiful autumn in this area, and getting outside and moving my body is the best therapy I can think of.

On top of that, my lungs are feeling great. I didn’t realize how miserable I was gasping for air and coughing until I got some relief. At first I was really, really bummed to learn that the chemo poisoned my lungs. But the symptom relief has made me hopeful the damages won’t be forever, and that I won’t have to be on these steroids long enough for any major side effects to take place.

One thing about feeling crappy all the time is that I’m stuck inside the house all the time. But this weekend I was able to get out of the house and it was so good for the soul! Excursions included an impromptu lunch at the neighbourhood diner, brunch with the fam, a scenic drive through back roads…

There was apple picking with my sister!

We gathered quite a bit, most of which I think is destined to become apple butter…

I took care of the apple crisp right away, obviously.

Not to mention, a surprise visit with some of my favourite people (my best friend’s mother, who I call my ‘second mom’). She snapped a future Christmas card photo of Buster and I.

Apart from feeling good physically this weekend, I feel like I turned a corner emotionally. I wrote two posts last week that stimulated discussion and really got me thinking.

This past year has not been a good one for me. Before my cancer diagnosis in June, I had already been out of commission from getting reconstructive surgery on my arm. I haven’t been in good physical health since before 2011. Being unwell for such a prolonged period of time really started to get to me. As I expressed last week, I am ready for this cancer and broken arm thing to be OVER so I can just move on with my life already.

But in writing this out last week, I started to realize that it was not good to compare the life I have now to the one I had before. To compare the body I have now to the one I had before. The comments and e-mails I got from people only helped grow that seed further.

Something clicked with me this weekend, and I realized that I am never going to be the person who I was in 2010, or 2009, etc, etc. Instead it’s time I start coping with the fact that I am a person living with a disease. For so long I was scared of embracing my cancer because 1) I wanted an identity outside of my disease, and 2) I didn’t want to welcome the cancer into my body in any way.

However, I think the idea that I can just ditch my cancer to curb is what makes me feel like I am standing still until it’s gone. Instead, I am a young woman living and loving life with a disease. I do not have to wait until the disease is gone to do those things. The peaks and valleys that come with cancer don’t just exist for the duration of treatment, but will exist for the duration of my life. I realize that I should just embrace and expect it, rather than think things will ever go back to being “normal.”

The person I used to be was pretty rad, but the new me, the future me, will be just as great. Believe it or not, now that I’ve started accepting my illness as part of who I am, I feel more like myself again. Best of all however, this weekend I felt like I started moving forward again. But this time I am not moving towards any finish line, this time I’m just enjoying the scenery of the ride.

You see, when I began chemotherapy three months ago, there was talk of the possibility of my not doing the whole six months of chemo. Hodgkins responds very well to chemo, as proved after my first treatment when all my cancer symptoms vanished immediately.

But after meeting with my oncologist last week, I learned that the mass in my chest was just too large to be blasted out so quickly. I’ll have to do the full six months, with an additional six weeks of radiation still up in the air.

So at this point, that is only three more months of chemo. Maybe several weeks of radiation. To people looking in on the outside, that probably seems totally doable. To me however, the person who has to deal with the effects of these treatments and cancer every minute of my life, it’s an eternity.

I was talking about this with my dad, who was trying to convince me that in the grand scheme of things, being out of commission for 8 or so months of my life with this cancer thing isn’t that long. In my mind I started trying to do the math on what percentage 8 months of my 25 years is, compared to 8 months of his 57 years. I couldn’t come up with an answer, apart from the fact that it’s a lot longer duration for someone my age compared to someone his age.

My point being is that cancer will make a person grow up a lot, but there are some things that I can only learn with time. More specifically in this case, how to deal with time itself.

I would have never previously labelled myself as an impatient person. In fact, my rare patience is something I valued. But these days, as each treatment, each day, each minute spent being sick drags on, I feel my patience being tested. Time is always looming over me, whether it be the day I’m declared cancer-free, or the day I’m told the cancer has come back. Neither of which of course can be revealed until due time.

These days when I get upset and frustrated over what is happening, it’s not the “why me?” it used to be. It’s the “I want this to be over NOW” foot-stamping temper tantrums. I am so ready for this to be over, but time just isn’t moving fast enough for me.

As I feel worse with each passing day, the following day stretches out into something that feels longer. Three months can pass in a flash when you’re having fun, but it slows to a snail’s pace when you’re grasping to find the energy just to get through it.

I know this is an honest and perhaps depressing post for a Monday, but it’s a very real reflection of something not only I as a cancer patient struggle with, but I think anyone who is sick or injured struggles with.

If anything, let it be a reminder that not everything is “over before you know it.” Because living through some things often gets very real, very gruelling, and very hard. That is assuming of course it is ever over. My cancer may come back. I still can’t straighten my injured left arm. And apparently, I’m still not very good at mental math.

My cottage is the best place on Earth. No, really.

Even with an endless amount of TV, movies, and books and one’s disposal, it is still possible to be bored out of your mind.

Telling a stranger that I have cancer does not get easier with practice.

You can (and should) french toast just about anything.

Yoga classes while on chemo are a great idea for relaxing and moving my body. But making a commitment to be somewhere at the same time every week when I never know how sick I’m going to feel is impossible.

There are hundreds of varieties of tomatoes! And they all taste very different from each other!

It is so, so important that I find ways to feel proud of myself outside of what I am physically capable of doing. Being able to run is great, but it shouldn’t be my only source of self worth.

Any time something is being inserted under my skin, I should really ask for an anaesthetic. Do they give laughing gas for PICC insertions? It think that would be a good time…

I can’t let the opinions of others dictate how I handle my days. I am going to have a lot of bad days in a row, and even a lot of good days in a row. There is nothing in place that says how I should or shouldn’t be feeling.

Pies are so deceptive. And so is the movie Waitress. Not quite *that* easy.

Wigs are fun, but they don’t replace the hair on my head. They tangle more easily, are hotter, and are harder to twirl around my finger.

I know I actually have no control as to when the cancer is gone, but telling it to fuck off by my 26th birthday feels pretty damn good.

I’ve spent so much time over the past few months obsessing over my own health, it’s a huge relief to pay attention to the well being of another little creature.

It’s possible for a 12 lb dog to totally steal my heart.

The truthful answer, is that when I started blogging almost three years ago, I only had about 10 readers. So being honest about my thoughts and feelings was never a big issue. As I gained more readers over the years, it’s just something I never changed.

With that said, I guess I do have limits on what I will blog about. I won’t put up anything I would never want my mom or my boss to read. That’s a rule I’ve had since day one. I won’t blog about family members or friends in great detail, that’s their business not ours. I try my best not to disclose my exact locations, keep my last name off (although, it’s no secret what it is), and never ever mention my place of employment.

Old-school TGBA header.

I will say, that over the years, I have become more aware of my audience. I always blog for myself, but I do try to write in a way that will hopefully interest people. Choose topics that people can gain knowledge from or relate to in some way or another.

My blog has evolved a lot over the years. When I first began blogging about food and exercise almost three years ago, I was admittedly embarrassed by it at times. Would people think I was weird for taking pictures of my food? Actually, yes, a lot of people thought it was silly and ridiculous. But I started to no longer care, because it was important to me.

Another not-so-old-school TGBA header.

When I was diagnosed with cancer 12 weeks ago, it would have been easy to say “see ya later.” To take a long break from blogging and focus on the more urgent things at hand. But strangely, it’s become a time when I need to blog the most. Taking the thoughts and emotions that fill me now, organizing them, and writing them for whoever in the world wants to see, is the most therapeutic way I can think of to work through this process.

I think knowing I have an audience out there reading helps me develop these thoughts more than if I was just writing in a journal. Not to mention, I am a strong believer in that a writer is not a writer until they are read (in other words, get published!).

With my "blog face" on.

I now have almost three years of blog posts to go through, probably close to 1,000 by now. Little things I’ve done or celebrated over the course of those days. Big things like graduating university, moving, and making big life decisions. It’s all documented, along with whatever I decided to have for breakfast that morning.

Even though the style of this blog has changed, I am more committed to it than ever. I know a lot of people say “I would blog even if no one read!” But I can assure you that is 100% truth coming from me. If there’s one thing I’ve always known about myself, it’s that I’m a person of creativity. From the first homemade journal I started as a 6-year-old, to the journals of poems and songs I wrote through my teenage years, to the blog I started as a university student. Happiness to me is creating something out of nothing, and doing that for a short period of time every day with this blog is one of the things I look forward to every single day.

Blogging on my mother's hardwood floor gives me velociraptor arms.

So I guess if I were to answer, how do I stay so honest? I’m just honest with myself first, so putting it into words and sharing it is never a big stretch. Just don’t ask me to talk about myself in person. That’s when I start to clam up.

Living at home with my parents (or dad, in this case, although my mom lives a 5 minute drive away), being off work, dealing with the side effects of chemo, and emotional aspects of having cancer, well it’s a lot!

Archie, on "Cancer Guard" at the end of my bed at home.

The biggest thing I have noticed since being home is that my to-do has been drastically slashed. I used to be that girl who liked to schedule every free minute of her day with something to do. How do you think I managed to blog every day? My days were quite full! Geez, in my last year of university I took full-time classes, worked two jobs, and did one internship. It’s like I’m allergic to being bored or something.

I think a big misperception about being sick is that people assume the sick person sits at home all day in their pyjamas with nothing to do. This is kind of true, but I know anyone who has gone through chemotherapy will agree with me – I just can’t do as much.

Each day, I do the normal things I want to do every day – blog, exercise, make meals. Then I choose one thing to do on top of that. Some days it’s going out to lunch, maybe visiting my mom, have a friend come over. Other days, a load of laundry is all I can muster. Some days I can’t even do anything beyond blogging.

Chemotherapy just takes it out of you. Plain and simple. Even on days when I’m not nauseated or experiencing bone pain, I am still always fatigued and tired. The kind of tired that doesn’t go away with sleep. The kind of tired that isn’t cured with caffeine or “breaking through” to get a second wind.

I have to be wise about it as well. For I have over-booked myself in the past while on chemo and felt like walking death after. I am always having to remind those around me that “no, this is it for me today.” As much as I would love to go from location A to location B, I think it’s time I go to location Home to rest.

The one thing that I miss the most since beginning chemotherapy is the ability to schedule my days full of fun activities. I miss having a healthy immune system that allowed me to go to farmer’s markets, concerts, busy restaurants, and bars. I miss having the stamina to spend the day baking and cooking in the kitchen.

Baking chocolate beet cake on my birthday, 2010.

With all this said, I will assure you that I surprisingly never get bored. Between puttering away on my writing projects, reading, watching the TV shows and movies I never had time for before, and visiting with family every day, I don’t have a whole lot of time for much else. It just takes a loooooong time to do anything because I can only do so much over the course of one day.

Back in my prime exercise days, when I was training for triathlons, running races, or weight lifting programs, I dealt with regular injuries like anyone else. My mom would always tell me “Susan, an injury is just God’s way of slowing you down.” I always knew it was true, because without the injury I would have just kept going and run myself into the ground. The sore hip, stubbed tow, achy achilles, they all served their purpose of forcing me to sit on my butt for a week and take a rest I never thought I needed or deserved.

Well, I’m not sure what cancer says about my need for rest, but I am certainly taking the time to listen. And plan to continue listening once this cancer experience is over. I’ll definitely be more careful about over-booking myself in the future, and maybe take more time to read those books and watch those movies I always wanted to see.

I am back to the red sands of the North Shore of Nova Scotia at my family cottage for the weekend. The perfect opportunity to rest, read, and go for a long walk on the beach. I wish everyone on chemo had a cottage to go to. Whatever you do this long weekend, be sure you get a little rest and relaxation too!!

Hospitals are a lot like prisons. Except, without the recreational sports.

There are A LOT of good people in the world.

Times of stress will chase people out of your life, but it will also bring the good ones closer.

I can’t be certain, but I suspect prisons have better food than hospitals do.

There is never an excuse for crocs.

Chemotherapy is not as scary as the movies make it out to be.

Cancer does not mean death. It doesn’t even have to mean “sickly.”

Roast chicken is the easiest way to impress people into thinking you’re a good cook.

Carrot fries > sweet potato fries. Yes, I totally went there.

Being in the public eye is intimidating. But when I have something important to say, and people are willing to listen, I need to take every opportunity I have to say it.

Rainy days can be just as good as sunny days, I just need to be more creative with how I enjoy them.

And yes, there is a metaphor hidden in there.

Never turn your back on kale chips roasting in the oven.

Just because I’ll never get my old life back, doesn’t mean I can’t make my new life a good one.

The human body is tougher than you think, and the human spirit is even tougher.

My mom has a big, beautiful backyard that just screams for a vegetable garden. She really wants to be able to eat fresh vegetables from her backyard, she just doesn’t want to do the work of gardening to get them.

I on the other hand, had just come from a failed running attempt. For the first time in my life, I stopped a run partway through. After 5 minutes of jogging I thought “I don’t really feel like doing this right now,” so I stopped, turned around, and walked home.

We sat there together in our joint feelings of guilt, discussing how silly it is that we feel guilty about not doing things we don’t even want to do!

My mother, being of an age where physicality doesn’t come as easily as it once did, and me with an arm that only “half works,” talked about how we now pick and choose the activities we think are worth the effort.

We both agreed that keeping a clean kitchen and bathroom are 100% necessary and worth the effort. We both agreed that some form of physical activity must be done. But we both also agreed that we shouldn’t waste our time doing the small things we don’t want to do just because we feel like it’s expected of us.

I don’t have to run if I’m not feeling it just because it’s a nice day out. I decide on when I run, not the weatherman.

And just because my mother has a nice backyard, doesn’t mean she needs to plant things if she doesn’t like gardening.

What a waste of emotional energy to feel so guilty about these things.

In the end, we went for a long walk. I enjoyed the weather walking way more than I would have running. My mom is still on the fence with gardening, but we’ll get that sorted out. Maybe a potted garden that doesn’t require so much physical work? If you’ve got ideas – leave ‘em below!

For such an otherwise uneventful weekend, I feel like I came out of it having learned a lot of lessons.

My advice to you, is do not put all your eggs in one basket.

In other words, please make sure that these qualities are not your only source of confidence. Please make sure you find confidence somewhere that does not involve your physical strength, endurance or ability to touch your toes.

I say this because, even though it can take years to build this kind of confidence, it can be taken away from you in an instant.

And then where does that leave you?

Struggling to find confidence elsewhere, and possibly not knowing where to even begin looking.

Living close to family is the bestest.

I know money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can improve my quality of life.

CBC actually has some good TV programming. Namely, Being Erica. I blame my sister Sara for getting me into it!

Just because I’m a grown-up, doesn’t mean I can’t have ridiculous coloured nails.

Just because I “could” lose weight, doesn’t mean I should.

Wind is one mighty form of resistance when it comes to running. Harder than hills because sometimes it never stops.

Working 8-4, Mon-Fri is actually kind of awesome. I don’t know why I was scared of it for so long!

I should stop missing the things I could once do, when I should be embracing the things I can do.

I lovelovelove driving. Way more than I ever thought I would. And I’ve only had my licence for three years.

Sometimes, life sucks. But the feeling usually passes.

Pets make the world go round. 

Living life is number one. Blogging comes after it. I refuse to be tied to my computer.

Even though I am in control of nothing, I am in control of how I deal with things.

What did you learn in May?

P.S. Happy birthday to the smartest man I know!

My Dad!

…The universe gives me this. That would be my backyard. One of the many things I listed as loving about being back home. Sunsets and trees were also included. Looking out my back window and seeing this almost every night fills my heart and soul full.

It’s funny, just the other day I was driving through the outskirts of the city and was absolutely taken aback by the stunningly green rolling hills. Even though I was in Toronto for a little less than a year, I’m still not used to seeing nature yet. Or wide open spaces. Or looking people in the eye, for that matter.

I think living in the city keyed me up. I used to be a very relaxed person, but something about Toronto made me want to be on the move all the time. I would find myself running around morning till night. I had to have plans for every minute. If I didn’t, I would hop on a streetcar and find my own adventure somewhere in that dizzying city.

One of the main reasons why I wanted to come home was for the quality of life. Getting to sit in a big grassy backyard. Going to a cottage not just on weekends, but on weeknights because it’s only 20 minutes away. Plus, people out east are nice. Like, real nice. I like that.

The biggest reason however was definitely the pace of life here. I was tiring myself out running around Toronto. I wanted to come home and chill.

Oddly enough, that’s easier said than done!

Adjusting to the slower pace of life in the Maritimes has turned into a bit of a challenge. I find myself stressing over packing my days with activities, then feeling like a failure when I come up empty handed.

But it’s okay to relax. To take it slow. To do the things I never had the time to do before. I knit a scarf a couple weeks ago. How bout that!

I forgot to mention a crucial piece of information in my last post about driving.

The very best, no bestest, thing about being home is my commute.

In Toronto, it took a bus, two subways, and a 15 minute walk to get to work. I would often have to leave for work 90 minutes before I had to be there. Some days I spent four hours sitting and wasting my precious time on public transportation. I lived and worked within the city too. It just took so damn long to get anywhere. It killed me. A slow and painful death.

My new commute? 10 minutes. If even. I wake up at 7am and I’m sitting at my desk by 8am. I lovelovelovelovelovelovelove it. I have so much extra time in my day to do things!

I guess that’s also why I feel the need to fill up so much of my time.

Maybe I should start working on knitting that afghan…

Novelty foods, like poutine pizza, for the most part are just that. A novelty. Not necessarily a delicious dinner.

Big kitchens aren’t all they’re chalked up to be. I spend more time walking from one end to the other than getting anything accomplished!

It’s really easy to feel sad, it’s a lot harder to remain upbeat.

Flexibility is so, SO important. I attribute regular full-body stretching to the progress I’ve made with my arm lately.

My family needs to buy one big house and live together again. I promise I’ll share the channel changer this time!

Just because Toronto “wasn’t for me” doesn’t mean I won’t have days where I really, really miss it.

Losing weight is only hard when you don’t really want to do it.

Shaved poodles are kind of frightening.

I took my fitness for granted before. I also shouldn’t have assumed it would come back quickly.

Yeast is a tricky bastard to deal with.

Even though I know I’m capable of great things, there’s nothing wrong with being ordinary if it’s what makes me happiest.

Walking is such an underrated activity. Sure it’s no calorie-burner, but I think it’s as beneficial for mental health as yoga.

I have to stop automatically giving a positive response when people ask “How are you?” It causes others think I’m “okay” when I’m actually not.

Bad things happen to good people all. the. time.

If you’re going to add Greek yogurt to cooked oatmeal, add it after cooking and not to the pot while oatmeal is being cooked. The latter results in a soupy batch.

I need to relax. Which can be hard to do when you’re not allowed to exercise and it’s your best form of stress relief.

Getting the cast off a broken limb does not mean it’s all better. It can mean the hard and painful work is about to begin.

Adding pesto to hummus is a good idea.

Sometimes the best way to get out of an exercise slump is to take a break. Not a few days, but a few weeks or even months.

I don’t want my parents to ever leave me.

Doctor says at least two years until my arm is back to its new “normal.” Two. Years. I fucked it up bigtime.

Being in the presence of loved ones, doing nothing but enjoying their company.

Going outside without mittens for the first time.

Finding that shirt you thought you lost last year.

Eating a banana, avocado, or mango on it’s day of perfect ripeness.

Days where your hair magically falls into place without being styled.

Tea.

Being seated in a restaurant right away and getting the best table there.

Having amazing home baked bread, then turning it into French toast.

Knowing that even when there are a million things to complain about, there are still things over the course of the day that can bring you a little slice of happiness.

Family is number one. Always.

I’m stronger than I thought. You can never predict how you’ll react in a situation until you actually have to go through it. Truth is, in the moment you don’t get the chance to reflect on how you want to react. You just do things the only way you know how. It’s survival.

Humans are incredibly adaptable. My sister keeps saying she can’t believe the things I am doing with one hand. But the learning process has been quick. I wouldn’t say I’m used to it, but I’m learning to live with it.

Ponytails are very important to me. On the flipside, there are a few things I just can’t do with one hand no matter how hard I try. Of those things, the inability to put my ever-growing hair into a ponytail frustrates me the most.

Teen dramas from the 1990s are way underrated. Am I right??

I can go 40 hours without food. Thanks to a saline drip and regular injections of narcotic painkillers.

I’m getting older. There’s something about that 25 year mark that made me start to realize the physical changes of aging. Most recently, the beating my body took after going to a punk show.

I’m not as waffle adept as I boast to be. Evidenced by a few waffle scrambles over the past month…

You can take the Maritimers out of the Maritimes, but you can’t take the Maritimes out of the Maritimers.

Remember the big picture. Not just in terms of time. I know even though my recovery seems like a long time now, it will just be a blip on the radar many years from now. But my situation really isn’t that bad. I will get better. The big picture is that I have loved ones who won’t.

Surgery is scary. And something I never, ever want to go through again.

Peanut butter and honey isn’t just for sandwiches!

Anyone can do yoga. And that includes me, with my full arm cast. When my accident first happened, I was most upset about not being able to participate in the Power of Movement fundraiser. Then about not being able to do yoga at all. But that last part is not true. Because a yoga practice is what you make of it, and that’s why anyone can really do it.

The Rideau Canal should be renamed to the Carnage Canal. I’m only joking.

Sort of.

Don’t leave your elbow pads at home!!!! Seriously, why did I just wear knee pads on that fateful day?

Staying upbeat is sometimes really, really hard. As a person with a history of anxiety and depression, I easily fall prey to feeling sorry for myself. I am always battling with feelings of wanting to give up. I need to dig deep and remember this attitude doesn’t help anything.

Even when it feels like the world stops, life does in fact go on. With every passing minute.

Bionic jokes get old.

Just sayin’.

What did you learn this month?