Punchy Mommy Believes in Life

How I evicted the worst uninvited overnight guest and took back my life

Tag: Recovery

I went to bed with cancer and woke up a vegan

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There were no bells and whistles. No light bulbs or ah-ha moments. It was simple, one day I ate meat, dairy and eggs and the next day I didn’t. I went cold tofu so to speak. It wasn’t a choice; it was a moment when I tuned into a small and gentle feeling from within.  A moment when I listened to what my body was telling me and a moment when allowed myself to really hear it. I didn’t know where I was going when I started, I just knew it felt right. My journey has been uncomplicated and here’s how I’ve arrived:

My chemotherapy cocktail was downright nasty. It looked like watered down cool-aid, hawaiian punch flavored. It’s crazy to think that it took almost five months of continuos chemicals to kill the tumor. God, I hope it worked. Every three weeks for 96 hours, chemicals were pumped into my body and they stayed there for the following two weeks only to be replenished by another round. Wondering what that feels like? Well, you know the feeling you have right before you get a shot? When time is suspended while you hold your breath, squeeze your eyes shut, and feel the pain of the needle prick even before it goes in. That’s what it felt like. But on the last day of chemo, I exhaled deeply. It was over. I soon felt an urge to fill this space, where there were chemicals and pain, with something clean, green, and anything that would help me recover. I became desperate to find a way to rid my body of the chemicals.

I knew the chemicals were still within me because my body ached of them for weeks after my last day and I was peeing pink for a long time. The chemo was the same color going in as it was going out. Revolting. With all the time I had laying around in bed I started to surf the net, read blogs, and articles about detoxing and recovering from chemo. I soon realized that all of my searches led me to the same place, a vegan diet. I knew nothing about being a vegan or how difficult it would be for me to follow so I developed a simple plan. I decided that I needed to drink a ton of water and eat a ton of plants. I began by setting a personal goal of drinking  64-96 ounces of water every day. Then I worked on eating more vegetables. I learned that plants can provide all the nutrients you need while detoxing your body at the same time so I started eating a huge salad at every meal. Some days I just couldn’t stomach raw greens so that led me to Juicing. Juicing was the easiest way to get a ton of greens and other raw vegetables and fruits into my diet. Juicing is what really made the difference because after guzzling a tall 32 ounce jar of cold green juice, the only thing I wanted to eat was plants. Before I knew it, I was eating all plants and no meat, dairy or eggs. Without even realizing it, I didn’t miss any of those things. My new diet satisfied all of my hunger pangs and indulged my cravings, but most of all it made me feel good.

Living this lifestyle feels peaceful. There’s a gentleness about consciously abstaining from violence against animals and the great harm to our environment while raising them. My body needs peace. I need whole, natural foods to scrub each one of cells clean of the chemo. Surprisingly, there hasn’t been a day in the past seven months that I have looked back and craved a food that I no longer eat. I still pee pink every now and then and that is my silent reminder of how I got to where I am today. I don’t know if being a vegan will prevent cancer and I don’t know if will bring me ultra-health. All I know, is that it tastes and feels gooooooooood.

Check out my vegan blog, The Curated Vegan.

Stretchy stretchy stretchy stretch

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Stretchy stretchy stretchy stretch. That’s how Dad woke me up almost every morning. I was always ignoring my alarm clock and usually came dangerously close to missing the school bus. But, somewhere in between this time Dad would gently stretch my arms and legs and try to get me out of bed. Stretchy stretchy stretchy stretch, he would say. I starting doing this routine with Little Man when he was only a few months old. Pretty soon he started to anticipate it and hold his teeny arms up high over his head waiting for a good stretch. Stretchy stretchy stretchy stretch, I would say as I gently pulled on is sleep-warm soft arms and legs.

Now it’s my turn again. Whether it be in yoga or physical therapy, I hear a little voice in my head saying stretchy stretchy stretchy stretch as soon as I start to extend different parts of my body. As I did with Little Man and as I remember my Dad did with me, I find myself gently speaking to my body. Let it go. Open up. Reaching for the sky and then swan diving forward, bending at my hips and reaching for my toes; a one time easy maneuver quickly became painful and almost impossible after treatment. Stretchy stretchy stretchy stretch, reaching for my toes and coaxing my leg muscles to unfurl their iron grip from around my bones and innards. Little by little, I feel a small opening here or there. A spot that was once hard as metal becomes soft to the touch. A crackle or creek, once audible from across the room has finally fallen silent. Well greased joints have replaced those strange clicking noises. It’s going to take a lot to get back to where I was, but I’m doing it. One stretch at a time. Stretchy stretchy stretchy stretch.