It was an interesting day in yoga. Normally, it is the same small group of men and women. A quick hello and we all retreat to our mats. Yesterday, people kept arriving. New people. Experienced people. The studio was not packed but at least three times the normal number of students were present. I was in one corner facing one direction and there was a very young red-haired man in front of me facing the wall to my left. I faced the side of him the entire class.
Now, one is not supposed to notice anything in the class but should focus on oneself. Well, the guy intrigued me. Clearly, he had done this once or twice before. He even did a headstand, with some advice from the teacher, but he just couldn't move. He was stiff. There was no movement through the hips. Is it a male thing? I began to peak at the other men. Nope, their hips moved. Then, I quickly refocused on myself when the thought of how I might be, right at that moment, being accessed by others in the room!
Directly from yoga, Julie covered my grey roots then I picked up for the housekeepers this morning, made Cincinnati Chili for our dinner, took an hour nap then left for orchestra rehearsal. My goal is to get through the pulmonary rehab class today and I plan to fall into bed early tonight.
As I looked forward to my actual birthday this weekend, I was reflecting back to my other birthdays after I was diagnosed. They were difficult. When given just a few years to live, every tick off of another year was a step closer to the dreaded number. When I began to live past the number of years it was suggested that I would probably live without transplants or death, I became even more nervous. Would it happen any minute? I was past due.
Hitting the milestones of 10 years with the disease, celebrating our 40th Anniversary in September and turning 60-years old this weekend, I am celebrating. I feel like I have run through the tape at the end of a long race. I know the next 10 years will bring transplants, if I qualify. Or death, if I don't. Another race begins. I told Michael that with surprise and confidence, I have set the goal of celebrating our 50th together. That was totally inconceivable when I was diagnosed but now, maybe, just maybe, I can finish another race.
Pulmonary rehab today. That is how I am going to fight to be alive for our 50th Anniversary. Working hard everyday.
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