We measure wellness constantly. In my world this is mainly accomplished by making me hold my breath while being shoved through an oversized donut (CT scan) or sucking blood out of my veins by a professional vampire (phlebotomist). Just last week my primary care measured wellness using a battery of blood tests that lead me to believe that she thinks I’m malnourished. BUT in the encouraging words of my PCP: (*clears throat for best thick Russian accent) “Just LEEETLE beeet more protein. You be okay.”
Not a week has gone by in recent years where I didn’t have some kind of medical test keeping tabs on me. Are my CA-125 levels up? How are my blood counts? How big are those tumors?
It wasn’t until just today that I realized there is another test of wellness, albeit a very simple and unscientific test…
My willingness and ability to make BIG plans and keep them.
Now I don’t mean dinner and drinks on a Tuesday night after work (although keeping real pants on after 5pm is a drag). I mean looking six months down the road and saying, “Well, heck yeah! I’m absolutely down to fly to Iceland and explore aimlessly.”
Not that Iceland is set in stone but I use it as an example, a benchmark really, for my confidence in my body’s ability to behave for more than 10 goddamn seconds at a time. There was a time, not long ago, that the thought of leaving the country with this illness terrified me. What if I have an intestinal obstruction? What if I’m too sick to stick to our plans? Straying far from Women and Infants, my medical security blanket, seemed impossible.
Just a year ago there were days where I wouldn’t even commit to going to a restaurant in anticipation of throwing up endlessly and/or having my stomach explode.
Now, I’m in a place where I feel well-enough, more often. Not great all the time, far from it. But well-enough to take greater control of my desires in life and the confidence to carry out those plans. So when Cory pitched the idea of researching Iceland, my first thought wasn’t “holy crap what will I do if I’m too sick?”, it was “holy crap I totally need to save every spare penny to make this happen.”
One of the best pieces of advice that I have continually soaked in from other cancer crushers is “make plans and cancel them”. Look to the future, always, but give yourself permission to back-out without guilt if you get there and your body isn’t cooperating.
So aside from the tumor markers and scans, my newest (and possibly most important) measurement of wellness is the frequency and manner in which I look to the future and make big plans. To plan beyond the everyday is certainly indicative of a slow and steady increase in wellness, quality of life, and most of all- PROGRESS.
See you under the northern lights.