Today I told my oncologist of my plans post chemo. Cancer has a way of making you look at your 'bucket list.' One of the things that has sifted to the top of this list over the past ten months has been Half Dome.
As an eighth grader, I spent a week in Yosemite participating in 'science camp.' Some of my strongest childhood memories are from that trip, Heather and Hila! My hiking group hiked to the top of Yosemite falls, where snow was still on the ground towards the end of March. We were one of the only groups that year to make it all the way to the top, so I still see it as a big success. My sister went on this same trip two years before me. My dad's love of hiking is epic. He chaperoned the Yosemite trip ten times, hiked Mount Whitney with my grandfather when he turned seventy and generally loves any mountain. Since that first trip to Yosemite in the 90's, I've kinda wanted to hike Half Dome. Beating cancer has become my excuse. I'm so excited my dad and sister are going to do this with me.
Though my doctor was startled to hear me say, "When I'm done with chemo I'm hiking Half Dome," after explanation of how I was going to train, he was on board. Apparently, he has done the hike twice himself and claims it 'wrecked his knees.' I told that my sister has the knee problems and I have cancer. He did not advise me against it. Instead he said very plainly, "No, you had cancer, We are past that now." All I could do was hug him. It is a pretty powerful statement, and coming from a doctor even more so. It's not something I allow myself to say, for fear of needing to retract it. So, I guess I'm getting ready for Half Dome!
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Doctors and nurses have all told me I'm running a marathon throughout my cancer treatment. This analogy never suited me. I know no-one who has ever run so much as a five K without at least stretching or jogging first. If I was running a marathon without training, I would have collapsed from dehydration and fatigue before my hair had finished falling out. The purpose of running a marathon is to finish as quickly as possible while enduring. No matter what, the runner finishes feeling much weaker than they started.
I like to say I've been climbing a mountain. As an avid hiker, this analogy suits me much more and I think is conducive to chemo. The purpose of hiking, and climbing mountains is to finish the hike; sometimes you end up where you started with a new appreciation, sometimes you don't. The time it takes is not important, but getting home safely is. Through your climb there are vista points, wildlife and ever changing scenery, even if you have hiked in the same place before. Each round of chemo has brought these same twists and turns. A few months ago I was taking additional time between rounds and told one of my nurses we were in the 'switch backs.' Not being a hiker, she agreed with the comparison upon me defining a switch back as proceeding down the mountain more slowly in the steep parts, so as to not get hurt.
I have five rounds left on this chemo mountain. We are no longer climbing but descending have enjoyed the view and have had almost enough nature for this adventure. I'm starting to see the signs of civilization, sprouts! As I proceed carefully back, I am getting excited to be home and cautiously remembering the rules of the trail.
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| Started with this many |
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| Then we had this many |
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| And then we were at |
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| Now we are here!!! |
