Slow motion

Slow…that’s how I describe my movements. There was a time I was full of grace and strutting my stuff whether it be across the stage or a parking lot. Damn that neuropathy.

My grace is gone. My long strides are now slow baby steps. The concentration it takes to get up and down or get in and out of bed is ridiculous.

Gone are the days of salsa, swing and hip-hop classes. I’m a dancer, who can no longer dance.

Neuropathy is the long-term side effect that I truly despise. It’s tough to convey how scary it is to not feel my feet at all. The constant watching of where I step around my apartment, outside or anywhere takes such focus and is exhausting. I still fall into walls and trip over myself.

What can I do? There’s no cure. Heck, there’s not even a cure for the common cold; so why would there be a cure for cancer or neuropathy?

Moving this slow makes me feel powerless. I feel less like the lioness I used to be. I have to periodically sit and rest just when cleaning. Moving fast is a thing of the past.

NO, no I won’t give into this pity party. But wait…this is NOT a pity party. It’s my new reality, thanks to cancer. My life will never be the same.

Cancer has forced so much modification in my life. It’s one thing to naturally change things in life. It’s a harsh and traumatic thing when change is forced in such a dangerous way that could possibly end your life.

I get resentful.

Life is not fair.

Cancer is the punch in the gut that never stops. The word is always on the tip of my tongue. My world moves in slow motion at times. The frenetic pace I once thrived on so well is gone.

Until next time,

Warrior Megsie

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