cancer is such a bitch

Last night is week 5 of bootcamp and its labeled “hell week”… I know this is to make things fun and push us but it found me sitting in my car just before class. I sat there. I am pretty positive I had tears forming in my eyes. I feel very defeated at tines.  Last night it was the worse by far.

Why did I feel defeated? Because I cannot lose a measly 15 pounds. My doctor will not schedule my reconstruction surgery until I weight 165.  I weigh 179.  In 3 months, I have lost 1 pound and ¾ of an inch around my body. I sat there in my car wondering why am I doing this to self.  My eating is not perfect but it is by no means bad. I eat two pieces a fruit a day. I incorporate veggies in everything I eat. Most lunches consist of a monster salad.  According to myfitnesspall, I consume 1200-1300 calories and burn 400-450 calories 5 days a week. I am working out harder than I have ever worked out in my life. Before C, I used to do Zumba 5 days a week. Run or walk during my lunch hours and at my lowest pre-C was 172.  I cannot get there for NOTHING despite my efforts.  I am doing functional intense training 4-5 days a week.  My energy is still not 100% but it's improving.

I am discouraged. I question what I am doing and feel like giving up.  I know intellectually that giving up isn’t an option. It’s not who I am but sometimes, I feel defeated. I don’t want to lose the weight to feel skinny. I think feeling strong is much more awesome.  I want my surgery. I am tired of inserting those damn prosthesis into my bra each morning. I hate it.  I hate. I hate it.  But then, I turn to being grateful.  Grateful that I am alive.  Grateful that working out leaves me with so much more energy. Grateful that I am living this life… Grateful for the time I have with my daughter. Working out with her, side-by-side.

It took everything I had to get out of the car. I pulled it together. There were moments I pushed myself harder at the end of the class, I looked at my Polar Watch and I’d burned over 600 calories.  I beat my record of calories burnt.  Did I feel jubilant?  Nope… I just went home. Feeling cold and sweaty and thinking… keep pedaling Paula…  keep pedaling.

Sometimes I feel like Cancer has robbed me of that happy-go-lucky person who was so happy that she was waiting for the sky to fall. For something to ruin the happiness she felt and yes, the sky did fall. But it didn’t defeat me. It didn’t break me.  It’s there looming and I fight that fear every day. I live each day as best I can… but sometimes, cancer is just a bitch…. It continues to try and break me… But I’ll just keep pedaling and placing my trust and faith in my Lord….  Maybe I’m not meant to have this surgery. Maybe THIS is one other thing I have to accept.  Maybe.