Are We There Yet? Why Aren’t We There Yet?
When are we leaving? What’s going on?
I should be on the AT by now, but I’m not. My trekking poles are wondering why they haven’t been loaded in the car for the long ride to Damascus. My back pack sits silently in the living room waiting to go. It hasn’t moved in a week. The date my feet were supposed to hit the trail, May 2, has come and gone.
I really don’t know how to write this, but I have to for all of you waiting to read about my adventures on the Appalachian Trail. It seems life has a different path for me to take right now and the timing couldn’t be more shitty or perfect depending on how you look at it. The high I was on just six days ago is gone. It has been replaced by a dull acceptance of something that is happening to me that is out of my control.
Let me explain
I’m used to call backs for a second mammogram. No big deal, I thought on my April 26 visit. After a diagnostic mammogram and an ultra sound and a stern motherly talk from the radiologist I walked out of the Woman’s Pavilion in shock.
“You shouldn’t go on this hike.” she said. “I really think you should reconsider going. It’s not a good idea. This is serious. This is cancer.”
I know this is the first time some of you are finding out about this and there is no other way to tell all of you. My intention is not to make you feel bad. My intention is to let you know why you won’t be hearing about my adventures on the trail. When a 4″ 11′ oriental female radiologist tells you not to go hiking, you listen.
So, I am on a different journey now. I’ve had six days to process this and believe me my head is spinning. I say six days because I was supposed to leave on April 30 and be on the trail May 2. I learned about the breast cancer on April 26. Terrible timing, right? Not really when you consider what could have happened if I would have gone hiking for two months and not have had my regular mammogram done.
I’m not sure how I’m going to handle my blog now. I really don’t want to write about my cancer recovery journey here. That is not what this forum is for. If all goes well and it should I see a fall hike taking the place of this spring hike. What’s six or seven months?
Just know I am in good hands and have fantastic support here at home. Friends and family have already reached out to start the healing process with me. I’ve met some great doctors who are going to get me through this. I wish they could take away the sadness of not being able to go hiking right now. My long awaited dream has been replaced by an intrusive nightmare.
Despite everything I am positive about what is happening to me. I am positive that it was caught early. I’m positive that it is curable. And I am positive that I will get through this.
If any of you that know me personally want to contact me please do so via email, or text, or just call me. I would love to hear from you. Every positive, upbeat message is needed right now. Prayers and good thoughts are accepted by all.
I will be back on the trail in the fall to write about my adventures on the AT. Instead of writing about the beautiful spring blossoms and the swelling streams I will be writing about the many colored leaves that are crunching under my feet and the crisp smell of the air waking up in the early morning. I have been on the AT already during both seasons. It’s the beautiful memories and pictures that will sustain me through this new adventure I’m on.
Until later fellow trekkers. Keep on hiking.
Peace in Nature,
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