It was chilly when my alarm roused me at 7:00am. I hit the snooze button at least three times before I threw off the covers and parked myself in the shower. A latenight work call (hello timezone shifting) meant I was working on just four hours sleep, but I had a date to meet a friend in town before she and her family headed back home. The plan was to have breakfast together and then I’d answer a few emails before indulging in an nap of undetermined length.
Read moreTag: Endometrial cancer
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Ramblings after a Sunday long run
Today is World Cancer Day. It’s also my long run day. As much as it was sunny outside, it was also cold, so I took my run to the gym instead of heading for the mountain as I had intended. Sixty minutes later, I’m comfortably tired, stretching like a cat as I let my heart rate come back down.
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Tapering? For surgery?
I was a little surprised when my phone showed that it was the hospital calling on Tuesday afternoon. My pre-surgery screening was already scheduled for Thursday, so maybe it was to move my appointment time? No, it was to confirm that my surgery will happen on Thursday, 8 February. Short taper.
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Who’s on first?
When I hung up on the call with my gynecologist on that day, it took a while for the reality to settle and the news to feel real. And then it started. Figuring out who to tell, what to say, and in what order. There’s no one way that fits all scenarios, and no right way to tackle the words to use.
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The pre-op consult, and more waiting …
On the day of my pre-op consult, I had to be at the hospital at 8:30 am. We’d gotten a decent amount of snow the day before, so I took an Uber instead of the bus. I didn’t want to be late and didn’t want to risk delays because the streets weren’t plowed yet.
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So … how this started.
It will no doubt seem odd to a lot of people that one of the first things I started thinking about after my diagnosis was what would this mean for my running habit? If you’ve followed my Instagram, especially my running journal, it won’t surprise you at all. My current running habit dates from turning 50, and in the decade since I’ve accumulated a collection of finisher’s medals from various distances and been a member of a running team for half that time.
Running from hysteria 