The One in Which I Walked The Hill Alone for the First Time Post-Dx

Yesterday, I strapped on my running shoes and went for a walk by myself up Communications Hill! What's the big deal, you say? Well, let me start from the beginning...

The walking part isn't new - I've been walking with Steven almost every day since I was released from the hospital - even before, I guess. After my surgery  - (actually, I think after almost any surgery?) -  they recommend that you get up and start moving/walking ASAP. Steven and I started with the hallways of the hospital, wheeling the IV cart with us. 

I don't have a really clear memory of the walking in the hospital hallways...I wonder why....

Once we got home from the hospital, we started doing a mini-loop around our block...then expanding a little more...and a little more...until we had a 2 mile flat loop. We didn't break any land speed records, but we started a routine.

As part of our new routine, we always hold hands - partly because he's my Schmoopy, and we were are going through a pretty challenging time...but also, I wasn't sure how steady I was with all the meds I was on. And also, if you remember, I was still having focal seizures on the left side of my face multiple times a day. At first, we would stop and stand there, Steven holding me close while I breathed through the seizure. But it got to the point where I was walking right through them - pointing to my face so Steven knew why I had suddenly stopped responding in the conversation.

Then we get hooked up with Dr. Awesome McAweseomesauce who found the right cocktail of meds to stop my focal seizures all together.
<insert angel choir singing>
....and I continued to heal and recover from my surgery, getting stronger every day....
until one day, I brazenly suggested that we "do The Hill" - which used to be a regular part of my fitness program. Woot!

Communications Hill is a little bump, really, that is about 1 mile from our house and a mecca for fitness enthusiasts because it's got this set of steps that draw exercise fanatics (and assorted other folk, apparently) from throughout the valley - much to the consternation of the neighborhood! Whoops!

This is the "bottom" set of stairs. There's another set above this that leads to the top of The Hill.

You don't need to "do the stairs" to get the benefit of The Hill. It's a lovely 1-1/2 mile loop with a max. elevation of ~350+ feet (I googled that shit.) that gives you expansive views of South San Jose and the Santa Cruz Mountains.

So, Steven and I expanded our routine to go up and down The Hill.

Baldy Couple on the Hill!

 Of course, sometimes, it kicked my butt. And I had to take a long nap in the afternoon. That's when I realized that I couldn't do the Hill every day. Especially once I started radiation/chemo treatment. I listened to my body - and some days were flat loop days, some days were Hill days, and some days were, "Hell, no! I'm going to nap for 2 hours!" days.

Kiddies, Hill Days are the best days. DUH!

I have to add this seemingly insignificant little detail because it matters later. (Kiddies, this is a literary device that's called "foreshadowing".) Walking The Hill from our house involves a nice flat mile in a neighborhood followed by an absurdly long traffic light wait to cross over to access The Hill.

Have you ever thought about how differently people may feel about these images? And WHY?

 I'm going to let you in on a little secret: Y'all now by now that I'm a Type-A/Rule Following Kind of Gal.  Steven is...how shall I put it? A Scofflaw? Now, that's not very flattering, is it?  Let's say that he is way more of Risk Taker than me. And he thought it was ridiculous that I would WAIT at the corner for the Happy Little Person Light to indicate that we could cross the street. Even if we arrived just as it turned to numbers counting down, and there were no cars coming.

I had to have a serious conversation with him to get to understand the underlying fear that I had about it. I'm a person with: 1) a seizure disorder and 2) brain cancer who is 3) in a healing process and figuring out what I can and cannot do. I didn't KNOW if I could cross that street (4 lanes) in 22 seconds, and I didn't want the pressure of a zooming oncoming car - even if there were none in view -  to add to my stress. After my explanation, he did understand and we wait...and wait...and wait until the Happy Little Person Light says it was safe to cross. Phew! Back inside my comfort zone!

And that's pretty much how it's gone for the last 3 months - daily walks with my Schmoopy, hand-in-hand, talking about Life, Love, and the Pursuit of Happiness...and oh, yea...cancer. I don't think I've managed to take a single one of these walks without crying a little bit. It's like therapy. And both Steven and I have said, in a strange way, our relationship has never been as strong as it is right now.

I'm currently done with my initial treatment of radiation/chemo and awaiting the results of my first post-treatment MRI. Still definitely recovering - I have stronger days and tired days, but overall, feeling very healthy. And Steven is feeling confident enough to get back into the swing of things at work, etc.

Yesterday, he had a club release at the winery - a long day which meant no walk for us unless we did early in the morning. Which we didn't. So, I put on my big girl panties, and I said, "Self, today is the day that we're walking alone. And you know what, Self? I'm feeling pretty ballsy, so let's do The Hill!"

And that's all it took. I was a little nervous at first, because it felt so strange to be walking without Schmoopy right by my side. But the more I walked, the more giddy I became. And guess what? When I came to the internably long traffic light - the Happy Little Person Light had turned to numbers...and guess what I did! I picked up my pace and actually jogged a few steps to get across before the numbers were all counted down. I giggled, imagining Schmoopy saying, "Well, look at you, you Scofflaw!"

I chugged up that hill, and took in the view, said, "Hello!" to all the freakish dedicated fitness peeps on the stairs, and stopped to take a few pictures at the top.

I looked like this:

But I felt like this:

And because I was so restrained and didn't curse in this whole entry...

[Do "shit", "ballsy" and "butt" count"? Nah!]

 I feel like it is entirely appropriate for me to say that I am imagining that I'm shouting here:

Carpe Fucking Diem, my friends! CARPE. FUCKING. DIEM!

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P.S. I'm not giving up my therapy walks with Schmoopy, but it sure feels good to regain some of my independence and confidence.  Next up: getting my Driver's License back!