Tuesday, January 29, 2013
(Rated G for Genuine due to brutally honest transparency and a bad example)
I remember my dreams in great detail. I’m usually pretty good at figuring out how my brain took the events and the emotions of the day, put them into my Ronco Brain-o-matic, sliced, diced, and spit them back out in a crazy mixed up way. Last night I dreamt I went through airport security holding a can of beans to travel on a surfboard-like transportation system. The trip included going through a “turn pike” which was a giant, downward-spiraled waterpark slide. (How sad is it that I even dream in puns? Get it TURN pike.) Yep – no psychoanalyst needed here. I am really excited about our upcoming trip, know it is going to be a blast, but am determined to eat appropriately. I have been thinking about trying a boogie board. Told ya – simple me – simple dreams – simple interpretations.
In the past, I’ve had a not-so-fun reoccurring dream. I could barely walk. It was like my feet were in concrete. I had to hold on to trees and other objects just to stand. In one dream, an elderly woman using a walker passed me. In another dream, it was pouring rain. I saw shelter and tried to move, but I didn’t have the strength to take a step. That dream was so real that when I woke up I was surprised I wasn’t soaked. It sure didn’t take a psychologist to figure out what my brain was trying to get through my thick head. I was sick. (That is still really hard to type.)
In the daylight, I did what I always do when faced with a challenge. I adapted, gave my best, and pushed through. My stubborn sense of responsibility pushed me in spite of my pain and fatigue until I fell into bed exhausted each night. Only some family and a few close friends even know I was struggling. (It's hard to share what you don't want to admit to yourself.) I avoided stairs, the shortest of walks, and would sit as still as I could to save my energy. Sometimes I wouldn’t even reach for a glass to take a drink of water because it took too much effort. The truth was I had growing tumors. (A common problem for women with PCOS.) As they grew and my activity level decreased, I grew in body mass. I knew something was really wrong, but I am bad about putting others first even to my own harm. I was determined to hold on until January (2012) before I went to a doctor because of the financial burden that I knew the medical bill would be. (Not smart!) In my heart, I knew my nightmares were my reality, but I was too weak and stubborn to do anything but hold on to the tree, stand in the rain, and survive.
Last March, the doctor removed tumors, early-stage cancer cells, and the body part that caused my physical fatigue, but the the health challenge at work changed what a surgeon’s knife couldn’t - my dreams. The challenge was the tool God used to break through the paralyzing mental fear. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but a few nights ago I dreamed I was running. What a sense of freedom! It was a confirmation that my new attitude towards fitness and health goes deep. I am thankful to know that even my subconscious has had a change of heart. I am confident my running dream was a glimpse into my future. Waiting for the night I dream I fly.