This cancer stuff is just full of life lessons

"Magnolia?"

"Nope, definitely gardenia," I pointed to the neighbor's bloom-laden bushes.

Paul and I are padding along our street for our nearly nighly walk.  We're both just wearing our Crocs, because I'm still far from needing a shoe to support much distance or impact.  At the Croc outlet store a couple of weeks ago, I found a pair of teal colored ones in the bargain bin.  Now, even my comfy, clown-like shoes support the cause.

I'm up to a half-mile, still breathless during most of the time.  But, I can now carry on a conversation limited to a few words at a go.  I'd expected to be further along by now, but the process is what it is.  Patience.  I've not really exercised in a year's time, and I've never had my chest cavity cut open and chunks of my lung removed.

I used to be worried when I'd get so easily breathless, like it was the sign of another pleural effusion and trip to the ER.  But now I know it's just part of the process.  I'm pushing my pulmonary limits, and it's the only way to get better.  The anxiousness is gone, a good thing...panic only makes the breathing more labored.  Slightly labored breathing is what you want.  You runners out there know what I mean.

"Tiger lilies?"

"Day lilies."

I'm not entirely sure Paul is really that interested in the horticulture of the neighborhood.  I suspect he's trying to engage my mind with something else other than the task at hand.  But, perhaps I'm not giving him enough credit.  Rather endearing either way.

My hair has grown out about three-quarters of an inch in the front...perhaps more in the back, where it's coming in very curly.  I'm getting brave enough now to go out without some fashion of head cover.  (The summer heat's a motivator too.)  Every now and then a neighbor will drive by and stop to chat for a few minutes.  "It's good to see you out and about!"  "Like your new summer 'do!"  It feels good to be social again.

Unfortunately, with the regrowth of my hair, comes other hairy changes.  Since my estrogen is practically gone, the normal amount of testerone that all women have circulating in their bodies is free to work its magic.  I'm developing nice sideburns.  Lovely.  And the chin hairs are becoming beard-like.  Waxing is my solution for now...but I see some laser work in my future.  TMI?  Sorry.  Just part of the journey.

As hard as it is sometimes to motivate myself to round Paul up for our walk, I always feel good while I'm out and when I get back.  When we first started, I'd have to hold on to his arm for stability, and we perhaps might only make it 50 yards before needing to head home.  I need to remember those days.

I look forward to celebrating my first one-mile stint.  I did make it two-thirds of a mile once, thinking that one-mile goal wouldn't be far away, but the next week my stamina dropped back to my half-mile jaunts.  Two steps forward, one step back.  This cancer stuff is just full of life lessons.

So, if you're local and you fancy a slow, short walk some morning, come on by.  My limits may far from equal your exercise routine, but I promise you a nice cup of coffee or tea afterwards...and some breathy conversation.