The Hardest Part

They think chemo is the worst part. Or losing your hair. Or Stolen moments away from family. True, those are all heart breaking. But the hardest part of all is this: learning to live again.

My physical return to life has mirrored the mental and emotional struggle. Math and recipes I used to be able to do from memory are long gone, as is some motivation. And After the metal rod was put in my femur and somewhere in the middle of the chemo rounds, my husband and I went for a walk. I’d not been able to drive or go upstairs for about 6 months and I gotta say, the walk ended in tears. Around the time I got the diagnosis I had finally been able to jog for 3 miles and was planning to do a 5k. That day? We barely made it half a football field to the stop sign. It’s been 6 years now, and I finally got back on the elliptical again only to be met with the stats (below). It’s embarrassing. It’s disheartening. Most days you feel like “Why even bother?” It’s depressing.

And it’s also part of the process.

The hardest part is not falling. It’s learning to fly, not sure whether you’ll soar or go splat. It’s relearning how to do things. It’s doing things differently. It’s doing things slower – always with “how it USED to be” clouding your progress.

Today is day one. Here’s to all you “get up againers” and “try one mores!” You have my deepest respect!

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