On feeling trapped
I had a dream on Saturday night that I was being chased by a helicopter. I ran into buildings to try to escape it, but it kept finding me and forcing me out, until finally I was in an open field, nowhere to hide. Trapped.
I do feel that way. I'm forced to deal with this -- the cancer and the chemo -- and there's no escape. I feel trapped in my apartment, where I'm safe from the germs of the outside world but at a slight risk for going completely stir crazy. I have one more AC treatment to go (and of course the four Taxol treatments after that...ugh), and I am so anxious about it I don't dare let myself the luxury of worrying about it for too long, or it will eat my insides out.
So, today, with a weather report that seemed to offer a welcome break from the heat, I ventured outside for a walk with Nikita. It was a bit warmer than I expected, and I was feeling slightly lightheaded off and on, but I pushed on, determined that a stroll would help cure that incessant feeling of being trapped.
With no pockets, I put my keys in a velcro strappy thing around my ankle. And you know what happened next.
On the way home, after walking down virtually every single street and side-street in Old City, I look down. Nothing around my ankle.
Panic! I'm hot, lightheaded, and now incredibly anxious and upset with myself that I was foolish enough to break out into the world. I call Mom, and she immediately leaves to pick me up (Nikita, bless her doggie heart, is oblivious to my misery and happily trots along, sniffing out discarded pretzel pieces). Meanwhile, I start to retrace my steps, realizing how completely hopeless it will be to find the tiny blue keyholder. I quickly give up and begin to circle back to 3rd Street.
But who do I see coming down the street? A man with a broom and a long-handled dustpan! I ask him if he's seen a little blue thingy? He smiles, digs in his pocket. "I was just about to give it to my supervisor," he says, handing it to me.
I thank him so profusely I think I made his day. A guardian angel, in the form of an Old City District street sweeper. Mom picked me up a few minutes after, and all was well again.
You just never know what surprises await you down the street, around a corner. And that realization, that hope, can set you free.
I do feel that way. I'm forced to deal with this -- the cancer and the chemo -- and there's no escape. I feel trapped in my apartment, where I'm safe from the germs of the outside world but at a slight risk for going completely stir crazy. I have one more AC treatment to go (and of course the four Taxol treatments after that...ugh), and I am so anxious about it I don't dare let myself the luxury of worrying about it for too long, or it will eat my insides out.
So, today, with a weather report that seemed to offer a welcome break from the heat, I ventured outside for a walk with Nikita. It was a bit warmer than I expected, and I was feeling slightly lightheaded off and on, but I pushed on, determined that a stroll would help cure that incessant feeling of being trapped.
With no pockets, I put my keys in a velcro strappy thing around my ankle. And you know what happened next.
On the way home, after walking down virtually every single street and side-street in Old City, I look down. Nothing around my ankle.
Panic! I'm hot, lightheaded, and now incredibly anxious and upset with myself that I was foolish enough to break out into the world. I call Mom, and she immediately leaves to pick me up (Nikita, bless her doggie heart, is oblivious to my misery and happily trots along, sniffing out discarded pretzel pieces). Meanwhile, I start to retrace my steps, realizing how completely hopeless it will be to find the tiny blue keyholder. I quickly give up and begin to circle back to 3rd Street.
But who do I see coming down the street? A man with a broom and a long-handled dustpan! I ask him if he's seen a little blue thingy? He smiles, digs in his pocket. "I was just about to give it to my supervisor," he says, handing it to me.
I thank him so profusely I think I made his day. A guardian angel, in the form of an Old City District street sweeper. Mom picked me up a few minutes after, and all was well again.
You just never know what surprises await you down the street, around a corner. And that realization, that hope, can set you free.
posted by Rachel Troxell at 4:00 PM
1 Comments:
You just never know what surprises await you down the street, around a corner. And that realization, that hope, can set you free.
AMEN!
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