As I sit here rereading my daily notecards, I’m being reminded of what life was like two years ago. The fears, concerns, and worry I was experiencing. Not knowing just how this journey was going to affect me. Would I survive the surgery? Probably, even though that is always a fear going into any major surgery. Would it be cancer? What kind of battle lay ahead if it was? Was I strong enough to fight it? Would I survive it? Those were all unknowns. Unknowns I had to sit with for many months. If it wasn’t cancer, how would I heal? How would life change afterwards? Even though this was the best scenario, there were still so many unknowns. I was petrified. I was scared to my very core.
Exercise isn’t about losing weight
The night before my impending doctor’s appointment, I had a dream, well nightmare really. In my dream, (I’ll make it short, I promise!) I was told my body wasn’t handling the surgery very well. My prognosis was a strict diet and no exercise. I was distraught! First, because I couldn’t have anymore pancakes (I have no idea why pancakes, but it’s a dream). Secondly, because I could never physically exert myself ever again! How awful! And just like that, I woke up, upset, sad, and empathetic to those who cannot exercise their entire body like I can. Thus, this post began.