Recovery Reflections

 

It’s been a month since I had to have surgery to have a 13cm cyst removed. What should have just been a cystectomy ended with a unilateral oophorectomy as the giant cyst managed to kill my left ovary making the recovery process a bit more intense than it originally should have been. I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on the recovery process- like way too much time. I’m honestly kind of horrible at being a couch potato so I tried to keep myself sane while I (not so)patiently waited for my post op date. Trust me…that was not easy.

Everything I do on the daily amplifies just how go go go I am and to all of a sudden have to come to a sudden halt- yeah, that didn’t go over so well. It took my mom and several friends constantly reminding me that I could not push things or force myself to heal faster to really listen and slow it down. The first week after surgery was definitely the hardest physically; I could barely walk and couldn’t even stand up straight. Just trying to hold myself up was obnoxiously painful and honestly in some ways a little defeating. It took me 20 minutes to walk what would have normally taken me 5 and the idea of not having something to lean on was completely terrifying for those first few days after surgery. Trying to get myself up after resting would take all of my energy and half the time I needed help or would end up in tears from the pain.

I’m so beyond grateful that the physical hurdles I faced during that first week were temporary because I know there are people out there that have trouble walking or standing or getting up without assistance on a daily basis. Those people take a little longer to do things; they need some extra time and patience. I’ve tried to be a lot more aware of situations like this now whether it be being behind someone grabbing a cart at the grocery store or holding the door a few extra moments for another. After living in those shoes for just a week it’s engrained in me how even strangers can make you feel so small and annoying in one brief encounter. For that first week anytime I was around other people I could feel them staring at me as I inched my way through a store or down a sidewalk. I constantly felt the judgments and annoyed groans I received when someone got “stuck” behind me. It didn’t feel good. It made me feel weak and small and like a burden and no one- surgery or not- should ever feel like that. So, I encourage everyone to really be aware of their mindset when they’re walking past or behind someone that’s clearly struggling. Be patient. Be kind.

These past several weeks following that first one have been hard in a whole different way. As my body has started to feel better and more mobile I’ve had to deal with the urge to want to do more. I’m a very on the go person and being on pause from my day to day busyness has been exceptionally difficult. Every part of me has wanted to jump right back in to exactly where I left off. But it’s taken me this time to realize that where I left off was with a completely different body than the one I have now. My old body was hurting immensely but it was strong. So strong in fact that I would have never realized how big that cyst inside of me was and how much internal damage it had done and was doing without the MRI and the ultrasounds. My body told me in different ways that something was wrong but it also fought strongly for months.

This new body is one that’s not necessarily wiped clean- but it’s different. It doesn’t feel like me yet and quite frankly I’m not sure it ever will. There are empty spaces inside of me where tissues once lived and died. There’s a mass hole where a 13cm cyst lived for God knows how long. My insides are trying to rewire and adapt to their new environment. My physical therapist said it best- this is a completely restructured body that now has to learn to work and be cohesive with organs being shifted and muscles being changed and redeveloped. Things are constantly shifting and healing and with every shift I  feel different. I find myself freaking out several times a day as something new occurs and I continuously have to remind myself that I know my body- even though it’s different; even though it’s changing and doesn’t feel like I feel…it’s still me.

I lost almost 3 decades worth of core work due to this surgery. So, for the first time in a very long time my abdominal muscles are taking a (more than deserved) break, healing; glueing themselves back together little by little. And as much as I want to jump right back in to everything I know I have to take those baby steps again. I have to retrain my core, redevelop the muscle as it heals slowly and mindfully; being respectful of my body’s capacity to move on past something so physically traumatic.

I’m not saying it’s easy just because I know it has to be done or that this hasn’t come without push back because trust me…I’ll be the first to admit that I have fought this part the hardest. Being patient, especially with myself, doesn’t come easily and I find myself constantly reminding myself that it’s still early in the recovery and that my body is older and this trauma is different. I won’t heal the same way because the parts of me I relied on to heal from previous traumas are the parts that need to heal this time. Some days I hit great physical milestones like standing for more than 2 hours without pain or driving an hour and other days my victories are smaller or more internal like having one less negative thought about how the  healing process is going. But every day has a victory.

The final thing that I’ve really delved into during this process was the one thing I didn’t think I would need to really acknowledge or hold space for (until I found myself having a complete emotional breakdown…in a parking garage…on a random bench…). Losing an ovary has shed some deep light onto my personal beliefs. I always figured I wouldn’t have kids. I adore working with my kiddos but I absolutely love the fact that I get to give them back at the end of the day and that I only spend 20 hours a week with them. In my head that meant that I just wasn’t going to do the mom thing- just the teacher thing. But knowing that my chances for a viable pregnancy were already close to less than 50% with two ovaries due to my autoimmune disease played much more of a key role in that thought process than I originally thought.

They say you can live easily with one ovary and that it picks up the slack of the other but having one less ovary in a body already low on baby making juice…well the outlook there looks rather grim. I’m not saying that all of a sudden because I more than likely can’t that I now have this crazy desire to have a baby. That answer is still a strong and hard NO THANKS. I’m still sticking to my I’d rather be the teacher than the parent deal. As a woman though losing an ovary almost felt like I was losing my ability to be considered a woman. Yes, i know that sounds silly but here’s the deal. Women’s bodies are the only human body that can create a human life and sustain a growing human being inside of it. And losing something so critical to that process- it made me feel like I failed the whole being a woman thing. Somehow because I now don’t have two fully functional ovaries I’m unworthy in some way.

Maybe that’s societal norms and peer pressure doing its dirty work but i spent a bit of time feeling less than. Because I felt less than in this part i started to feel like I was less than in other parts of my life. It all become one huge mental mind fuck and it wasn’t until I sat on that bench tears flooding out like a damn tsunami, too hysterical to even make it to my car that I realized these feelings were there and bubbling over. Honestly thank the heavens or the Gods or the universe for my dance family because they helped me pull through that storm of emotions and reminded me yet again of how strong I really am and how much healing still has to be done. But knowing that I have them supporting me- it made moving forward a little easier.

I feel like I can finally fully mourn what I’ve lost and appreciate what I still can gain from this. This whole process has given me the pathway to truly be ok with what’s happened, my decisions regarding it all, and guided me to a stronger and better understanding of why I’ve felt this way for so long. Maybe someday,if some part of me truly desires a child, I’ll look into my alternative options, but for now my family will just have to be ok with 4 legged grandchildren. And for now, I’ll continue to enjoy my big and little victories as I continue to move through this recovery.

Yellow Nice to Meet You

2017 has been a hard year full of a lot of lessons, pain, and heartbreak. I lost 3 dogs and my Godson, was in a major car accident, injured my back, and had a setback with my autoimmune disease. But this year was also filled with a lot of travel and new opportunities. I was able to take more trainings, learn new ways to teach, roadtrip multiple times, explore Europe, get a new tattoo, and travel with one of my best friends.  I’ve learned a lot about myself this year and even though I’m very happy to see it coming to an end I appreciate what the year has shown me. Here are just some of the lessons from 2017.

You are not required to like everyone.

 You don’t even have to have a reason for not liking them. Not liking someone or not wanting them in your life does not make you a bad person.

You’re going to lose a lot of friends in your 20’s, but you’ll find the ones that will stick with you for life.

As you start to really come into your own you’ll find you have a lower tolerance for bullshit and fake friends and “when it works for them” friends. Some of the people you’ll lose you may really be sad to lose-but overall you’ll be better off-even in the moments where you miss their craziness.

Love isn’t everything.

It’s great, sure- but it’s not the end all be all. You can be a whole person even without being in love. In fact you SHOULD be a whole person whether or not you’re in love.

 If you want to eat it, just fucking eat it.

What you put into your body is your business. If you want to eat a mozzarella ball like a damn apple, have at it. But like, also eat green things now and then. You can even put mozzarella on it! Practicing moderation is one of the kindest things you can do for yourself.

You’re probably not as weird as you think.

Literally everyone is fucking bizarre. You’re probably just as normal as them…maybe a little weirder, maybe a little less weird. Just embrace the weird.

Read the fine print

 Read your terms and conditions, your contracts, your rental agreements, read the tiny little lines under the fine print, etc. BEFORE you sign or agree to anything. You’ll save yourself a lot of trouble and potential embarrassment should something happen and you could potentially save yourself some money if you have to relay back to that information.

 Allow yourself to have a European adventure (or some other place) and maybe a side of romance too.

Oh! And bring the friend that’s going to push you outside of your comfort zone along. Trust me- it will lead to some pretty epic stories.

Don’t look for people to fix you, look for people who will stand beside you as you fix yourself.

You don’t need people to tell you that you need to be fixed or to try and do it for you. You need people who will be there to hand you the pieces or the hammer or a screwdriver (cocktail variation accepted). You need the people that give you space when needed, but know when you need a good shove in the ass and a night out. You don’t need someone to hold your hand unless you’re on a metaphorical tightrope (or a real one I suppose) and are losing your balance. Make sure the people you surround yourself with are the ones that don’t try to control you or manipulate you-but allow you to make decisions (even the dumb ones). That’s how you learn.

Forgiving someone is not weakness; hating them is.

It’s okay to sleep in sometimes!

Caffeine doesn’t always cut it. In a world that never shuts off, it’s okay to take some extra time to catch up on sleep. Your body and brain will thank you for it.

Take all the pictures you possibly can

You never know when the last moment will be. Allow yourself to document anything and everything that made you smile or laugh, feel good.

Loss is ridiculously painful

It hurts beyond words and it never makes sense and it feels like the world is ending. And in a way the world has ended-it’s not the same world that you knew. Don’t try to ball up the pain. Let it come out in a healthy form that helps you.

Being a Godmother is nothing like in Cinderella.

 It’s surreal and slightly scary knowing that you may potentially inherit a tiny human. But it’s also the greatest feeling in the world to know that someone has that much faith in you that they would trust you to raise and care for the most precious human in their life.

Even bad years have a reason

The harder years show you who you really are and how far you’ve come and how far you have yet to go. They fucking suck ass, but they teach you so much about yourself.

 Having an incurable autoimmune disease is not a death sentence it’s a wake-up call.

When I first got my diagnosis I was only able to look at the nail in the coffin. Two years and 3 intense treatments later I’ve come to realize that being sick doesn’t mean I have to be sick. It means I need to appreciate the life I have and am creating. I’ve taken this time to do things I never thought I’d do again like go back into ballet.

Your body is going to change.

My almost 29 year old body is nothing like the 22, 24, or even 27 year old body I had. This body aches a little more and is in pain a bit more often than it used to be. It doesn’t bend as much now and I don’t contort like I used to. But this current body has a lot of new battle scars and even when it’s achy or tired I know it’s strong.

Cherish your challenges.

This is one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned. When my life looked far from happy, I thought that it wasn’t fair that I had to experience so many difficulties. I wished that I would wake up one day and problems would just disappear. But the more I hoped for having a magic wand, the tenser my challenges have felt. Now I understand that sometimes the shortest way is to walk through the fire and stay open. Don’t close your eyes. Look around and see what the challenges are meant to teach you.

 Very few people truly know what they’re doing in life.

It’s an illusion that most people have life figured out. If you sat down and really talked to people at any age, you’ll discover they’re just as insecure or unsure of themselves as you feel.

 Fake it till you make it.

If you don’t know how to do it – learn it. We’re all capable of learning as we go. Be confident in your mistakes and in your growths.

Do things alone.

Go to that movie alone, eat at that restaurant by yourself – doing things alone helps make you feel more comfortable with yourself. Learn to enjoy your own company.

 Be with yourself as you are without having to change anything.

The first time I heard this was a couple of years ago in a yoga class. It’s one of only a handful of phrases to stick with me from a class. We spend so much time trying to force ourselves to be different or better or skinnier or faster or smarter. We never just take the time to pause and be with ourselves the way we are right now. I’m not saying don’t continue to work toward your goals. But take a moment to make sure they haven’t changed or to verify that you aren’t there yet. Take a moment to appreciate you for you and to just be.

 Talk to people when you’re unsure or feel alone.

There were so many time this year where I felt like I just didn’t know if I was making good choices. I knew they were the right choices for me- but it seemed like everyone else was going the other way. I questioned everything- especially my teaching style. I was having auditions that seemed to go great- amazing feedback from students and teachers and potential employers. But then I wouldn’t hear back or the place would go with a teacher who taught fancy party tricks. It made me question whether people wanted yoga or if they wanted cirque de soleil. And usually right around the time I would feel like giving up I would talk to someone or someone would talk to me and I realized I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t the only teacher out there who found these fancy poses dangerous or unrealistic. I wasn’t the only one teaching in a different way or feeling out of place.

Trust yourself enough to fall.

You won’t break. You are more resilient than you think.

Believe in the beauty of your own words.

 A blank Word document, an empty journal, or that notebook you bought for your own poetry. Type. Write. Scribble. Press backspace or crumple up drafts if you need to. Just don’t be afraid to let your voice be heard

 Society isn’t in charge of your happiness

I’m about to be 29 and I’m not married and I don’t have babies. I don’t have a steady 9-5 and I freelance to make a living. Society looks at this sometimes and raises an eyebrow. What they fail to consider is that they’re not in charge of my happiness and well being. I am.  I’m not married because it isn’t something that I need to do to feel whole. But do I let it define the progress and realness of my relationships? Absolutely not. The same applies for kids.

When I decided to quit corporate, society’s fears were projected on to me time and time again: How would I afford my rent? What about health insurance? How would I get steady work?

The fact of the matter is that if you want it bad enough, you’ll figure it out. It’s as simple as that.

 

Our lives are a series of events.

Events that change us, challenge us,break us, heal us. Events that cause chain reactions and explosions. Some of us face abuse, divorce, death. Some of us face fame, success, popularity. Some of us face everything in between. Each with their own lesson, their own darkness, their own beauty. Every event creates a part of us and destroys another. Constantly building ourselves to the person we are in this exact moment. As humans we try to protect ourselves. We look too far forward or stay stuck in the past- guarded and shielded. What I’ve come to learn is that we have to experience the now. We have to shed the layers, allow old wounds to heal, embrace who we are, and allow change to happen when it needs to. It’s never easy. Life is never easy. That’s what makes it exciting. ..

XO,

Andie

 

Veni Vidi Amavi

Veni Vidi Amavi 

    We came. We Saw. We Loved. 

 

I’ve been back in the states for a couple of days now and as always after travel I find myself reevaluating where I am and where I want to be. This trip was so much different and wonderful than I could have ever hoped for. I found out so much more about myself than I ever could have imagined. 

 

I haven’t been out of the country since my autoimmune disease diagnosis. I needed time to understand it and get to a place where my body and my mind were strong enough to handle lengthy trips again. I was beyond nervous as I had been having a horrible flare up for several weeks before leaving and didn’t know if the doctors would clear me. I barely scraped by with clearance just a day before I was supposed to leave. There were times during the trip where I could feel my body aching and tiring too quickly but overall I felt more like myself than ever. I won’t say my old self though because that self was broken, confused, and very lost. I’ve never been ashamed of where I’ve been or who I’ve been…it’s all a part of me and a part of my story and I appreciate those parts the most as they helped me claw my way out of the little shell I had glued and stapled myself into. This trip managed to rip off the small remnants that were still bandaged on. 

 

Brussels forced me out of comfort zone like no other trip ever had. It provided a feeling of liberation as I learned to fly by the seat of my pants again and to not be afraid of what comes next. There was no plan- a very not me move. Every day brought on a new adventure with different twists and turns that I could have never anticipated. I had the most resistance with Brussels as it was so far out of my comfort zone and with that I found more freedom and the ability to resolve my emotions. 

 

Dublin captivated me. I was in awe at the beauty of the cliffs of Moher and the ruins of the Rock Cashel. The stunning grounds of Blarney found the magical spark I thought had gone out long ago as the history flooded through every tree and rock. The streets of Dublin and the swans captured my heart in a way I don’t think I will ever be able to fully describe as I lived out the perfect movie scene day after day.

London reminded me just how connected we all are. We were all so different, but together we blended into the most imperfect mesh of culture, society, and humanity. I got to be Alice, meet the more sophisticated London version of me, conquer fears, get tattooed, and eat foods from all over. London, most of all, felt like home. Some city, some art, and the ease of walking around a place that seemed so familiar yet very new. 

 

And I got to do it all with my best friend by my side as she kept me wild and I kept her safe. 

 

Hello Starshine; the Earth says Hello

Throughout our lives we are constantly redefining, rediscovering, and relearning who we are. We are in a constant state of change. Ebbing and flowing like the tides- having our highs and our lows. But each time we take small pieces of our old selves with us-like little grains of sand. We may not know what these grains are until something occurs to make us stir the sea again and these little pieces of us re-appear.

My life has fallen apart around me at least 20 times in the 27 years that I’ve been on this Earth and will probably fall apart at least another 30 times. I’ve been in the rip tide of the latest falling for probably about a year now- using all the strength I have to swim with the undertones of the tide. It’s been daunting and exhausting, and simply painful sometimes. But, the beauty of life falling apart is the fact that you do get to build yourself up again. We get to reinvent ourselves using small pieces from each “life” we’ve taken part in. Right now I’m picking up the pieces of the identity that I lost in the whirlwind of relationship compromises, job obligations, and money-based motivations; and despite an aching loneliness for my former life, my heart is overflowing with more love and gratitude than I thought possible.

Only through these heart-wrenching challenges can we grow and develop and become more fully who we were meant to be. As I find myself slowly reaching closure in all forgotten aspects of my soul I have been forced to unlock the closed doors of my core; full of dusty memories and misplaced dreams.

My yoga practice really showed up to heal wounds inflicted through years of betrayal as it’s become sweeter, playful, and more soulful. I often think of yoga as a practice which moves beyond the boundaries of the spoken word. A place where lessons become threads in the strong weave of our own practice. Even within the held space of an asana, we find the dance of the breath, the constant subtleties of tuning that align the body more harmoniously. When we focus our gaze inwards, we begin to invite light into the shadows. We learn to take all our sorrows and our hurt and wrap them in the blanket of our own self-love. And then we learn to be compassionate and to trust the process. Through the darkest nights of your soul, a light shines forth and that light allows us-for a moment- to lay that weight to rest so we can finally begin that new cycle of breath; of life. We may still look the same; just as the ocean. But we are forever changed- forever ebbing and flowing.

 

Sometimes you have to stand alone

photo taken by: Andrea Kantrovich

Nothing to Say

I have been having a difficult time with trying to think of a topic this week.There are quite a few people who read my blog that I never thought would and sometimes that makes writing  it scary. There are times where I don’t feel like I have anything to say or that it’s just not significant enough to mention. And then I realize that that’s total bullshit. I am probably way too opinionated and stubborn to NOT say something, even if no one cares.

This made me realize that everyone has something to say. It’s just that sometimes we don’t feel we can say it or we don’t know how to express it in an appropriate matter. I’m not going to lie- I definitely struggle with the latter. I like to be blunt or I like to dance around the subject- both can lead to obvious misinterpretations. However, this is my blog and I’m giving you fair warning now-

I will not cater to anyone else.

My entries are for me more so than for anyone else. Yes, I love when people read what I have to say and for them to chime in. And it’s even better when they take something away from it. But, ultimately- none of us are on here to please anyone else. We write or post photos or provide quotes because it’s what we feel we need to do at that moment in time.

I’m never going to purposely try to offend anyone, but I do understand that what I write can freak some people out and that’s ok. Not everyone will or has to agree with what I think or jot down on here. To me, the point of a blog, is to challenge others that read it to think outside their comfort zone and to really expand our intellect.

I’m not the most delicate writer and I don’t piece together an entry that constantly sounds poetic, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy that. I love reading entries that make me think and tug at my envy a little. It makes me want to write more- not competitive wise- but just because some part of me hopes that someone falls in love with my writing style too. I just enjoy the idea of writing what you feel you need to write. So don’t every say you have nothing to say- because there’s always something to say.