Genetic Disorders and a Rant About Patriarchal Bullshit

A few weeks ago, I found out that I have a genetic disorder that puts me at markedly higher risk for reproductive and colon cancers. As a result, 10 years earlier than someone without this disorder, I have to start getting colonoscopies. I also have a hunch that really invasive pap smears are in my future. Instead of once every 5-10 years for colonoscopies, I have to get one every one to two years. Also, I may be a candidate for a hysterectomy. I'll know more when I go to the doctor about it in November, but that's the preview that the genetic counselor I've been seeing gave to me.

Except, probably not. If I'm given the option between keeping my baby box and not, I'd opt not if given the option. Except I probably won't be given the option because I'm still of childbearing age. It is of literally no consequence to me whatsoever whether or not I have a uterus, but if I say that to a doctor, that likely won't matter. Unless I see a childfree-friendly doctor, the decision about this isn't actually going to be mine about when I get to make this decision if I'm ever a candidate for it, which I will be one day.

Do you know the one thing, the one thing that fills me absolutely so full of rage that I am almost blinded by it? That if I want to have any kind of reproductive surgery - salpingectomy, hysterectomy, whatever it is, even if there's a health risk for me to not do it, I have to get my husband's permission, and even then, if the doctor doesn't feel comfortable doing it, then it won't happen.

My risk of uterine cancer is double what it would be if I didn't have this disorder. My risk of ovarian cancer is nearly doubled. My risk of colorectal cancer is more than doubled. But let's make sure that I can have those kids that I've never wanted, and that my husband gives me his permission first before my decision about my body for my own health and safety can be honored, and then only maybe.

This chafes my ass for two reasons: First, it's patriarchal bullshit, through and through. Absolutely. Second, what happened to the Hippocratic oath? First, do no harm? How does it benefit me to keep my baby box, especially if doing so could cause me a marked amount of suffering in the future? And, why does that decision about my body actually rest with my spouse and my doctor? Why isn't that decision mine?

I go back to patriarchal bullshit. I'm trying not to get preemptively mad about it, but I'm finding it difficult. Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe the doctor that I see will be more childfree-friendly. Maybe they won't see it as a huge worry right now and thrusting myself into menopause at 40 won't be the best idea (though it would not be entirely unwelcome, I'll tell you that) for reasons that I haven't thought of, and I'm sure there are several. Who knows. I'll continue to stew about it until mid-November, which is when my first appointment is.

I will say, though, thank goodness for finding this out early before anything happens. I'm surprisingly chill about it, but I think it's more about the fact that I literally can't do anything about it - it's written in my genes - so why panic? I'm sure the panic will set in when I have to have a colonoscopy for the first time (I've heard that it's a colossally unpleasant experience) or any other number of medical procedures that I may have to have as a result of this diagnosis.

You know what I keep thinking about that, though? It won't be chemo. There's certainly something to be said about that.

The Biggest Benefit of Online Yoga and Yelling

Let me tell you, friends. I am SO happy that I have started yoga again. I am also very happy that I'm doing half online and half in person every week, and let me tell you why: The in-person classes are a true exercise in impulse control. I make this more meaningful because in the online classes, my screen is off and I'm muted, so I swear at that teacher like a sailor. I yell at them sometimes and it is SO CATHARTIC I CAN'T EVEN. I can't do that in in-person classes (I'm not one for talking all that much while I'm trying to do yoga - it's hard enough without conversation), and so I have to really be mindful of what comes out of my mouth. I did let an f-word slip a week or so ago in an in-studio class and the instructor laughed pretty hard, but they were making me do a side plank and SIDE PLANK IS THE DEVIL.

This is side plank. I don't actually look anything like this when I'm doing it because I'm still so clumsy.

Today, I took a core yoga class. It's murderously hard, but I never fail to feel better afterward. (It also helps that I wasn't having a massive reaction to red meat this time, so I was actually able to participate without nearly barfing.) I really like the teacher, and unexpectedly, he had us go to side plank from down dog. Terrible. That was when I started swearing. Then, shockingly, I yelled - "YOU CAN'T JUST TELL US TO DO A SIDE PLANK WITH NO WARNING! WHO DOES THAT? WHAT ARE YOU - A F&#CKING SADIST? YOU ARE THE WORST. AND FROM DOWN DOG OF ALL POSITIONS. YOU SUCK."

Luckily I was muted and I didn't have video on. I still have yet to do a successful side plank, but I'm getting there. I was actually able to take my knees off of the floor for a couple of seconds each side, so that ain't nothing.

I'm getting stronger every time I do a class, and I'm finding that the more accepting of myself and present that I am in these classes, the more accepting I am of myself in general, which feels really nice. I desperately needed some time to just...put everything away, and now three to five times a week for an hour or so, I do just that. I'm more productive, I feel more effective, and I just...feel better.

I'm also more tolerant of my asshole dogs who decide, without fail, that while I'm in yoga is the perfect time to wrestle. I've learned to tune it out, so that's also nice. Also, I'm taking the good with the bad, because they've started cuddling and it's basically the cutest thing ever.

Also, Miles loves yoga mats and Ruby loves peeing on yoga mats, so I've found myself being more careful about things. She also loves chewing yoga blocks and does the best up dog I've ever seen in my whole life. I'm jealous of her form.

He's ready for yoga class to start now, please. He also uses certain positions when he takes the opportunity to unabashedly lick my face or the bottoms of my feet because he's super helpful and hilarious.

 

Another funny thing that has happened is that I changed my profile picture on Zoom to my bitmoji, and I forgot that I did that and now it's my picture for yoga class. I went to sign up for the 20% off deal that they have once the one-month membership is up, and the person that I emailed with about it was like "Your Zoom picture makes me smile every time!"

So, self-care is going great, currently. I've got some things coming down the pike that may make the wheels fall off the wagon, but I'm already seeing how temporary it is because the semester ends in four weeks, so I'll have every Thursday off starting in early December through the end of January, and no, I'm absolutely not filling that time, even in the short-term. I am STOKED.

Meeting Myself Where I Am

It's hard to meet yourself where you are, and it's a pretty consistent struggle for me. I always have this impulse (not instinct - I thought it was for a long time, but it's not) to just push through no matter what I'm feeling. Yes, it's hard, but this too shall pass, so I might as well just buckle down and do it now.

This may be a great strategy for some, but it turns out that it's a TERRIBLE strategy for me. I'm finding that more adaptive ways are creeping in, and it's feeling REALLY empowering. For instance, I don't wait more than 15 minutes for a client to come on to a Zoom call. That was where it started, actually. I found myself sitting here and waiting and how long do I wait and should I wait the whole hour? I had a REALLY resounding "no" happening and I paid full attention to it from minute one. I've had a few people push back, but what I say is that this is regular therapy, even if it's a different medium, and so the same rules apply as they would if we were meeting in-person, which either includes being on time for session or letting me know if you're going to be late.

It has also started to happen with yoga class. There were a few times the first week where I was just...not mentally there. So I didn't push it. I was going along great, and then today (right this minute, actually) happened.

I tried a new teacher today, and I was hopeful - all of the other teachers that I've taken classes with have been GREAT. They're gentle but they also push and it's just the balance I need. I signed on this morning fully expecting to take a class with one of those teachers, and someone else came in as a sub unexpectedly. "Ok," I told myself; "I'll have an open mind about this. This won't be bad."

Oh, friends. Today is where I learned the lesson that not every yoga teacher is a good fit. She talked for the first fifteen minutes of class. Ridiculous. I don't need to hear your internal narrative about life, lady. I do that for my day job, and I didn't come to yoga class to hear it all over again. NO THANKS. But then we started to get into the poses and SHE DIDN'T STOP TALKING. I have the video muted because I don't want to be totally rude and just sign off of the Zoom call, but I guarantee that if I unmuted it, she'd still be gabbing away.

What I'm also positive about, along with the fact that she's not a good fit for me, is that it's also partly me. I have to acknowledge that because I see 10 clients on Tuesdays, Wednesdays are probably not the best day for me to do yoga. I've tried the past two Wednesdays and struggled to the point of not being able to get through a class each time. There's a pattern here, and I have to acknowledge that where I am in my head is a large part of that.

But still. There's a time for talking and a time for not, Lady. 

Joyous Exertion

 Friends, starting yoga again was potentially the best thing I've done for myself in years.

The first week was hard. Like, really hard. I couldn't concentrate because of the dogs, and the in-person classes that I went to were really hard. I also found every possible reason to fail and blamed those things for my failure rather than trying my hardest and sticking it out. The dogs were playing too loud and I couldn't concentrate. Ruby had to constantly pee. Then she would whine when I put her in her pen with 15 different toys and a jar of peanut butter (not really, but that's what it felt like). Then the room was too cold. Then Ruby peed on my yoga mat and that was all I could smell even after I cleaned it thoroughly. Then the room was too hot. Then I had no clean yoga pants. Then the room was too cold again. The floor was too hard. My feet kept slipping when I got sweaty and now I have this thing going on with my big toes because I depend on them too much in the more common poses. Then Miles insisted on licking my face for the entirety of shavasana that one time. Then Rob didn't stop the dogs from playing and have a VERY energetic 9-year-old dog and a 5-month old puppy sit still for 90 minutes and that's a totally reasonable expectation so WHY CAN'T HE DO IT. 

The thing about it was that I was scared. Of what? I don't know. Having more mobility? having more physical ability? An opportunity to not just sit my ass in a chair all day every day? Having to buy cute workout pants? That nothing will change in spite of my efforts (which is patently untrue, even two weeks later as I'm typing this)? The most unfortunate part of this was I spent a week being mad at my dogs and my husband in ways that they certainly did not deserve. 

Then I did another week and it got a little easier. I found out the hard way that red meat is on the no no list for me and then in the middle of all of that and tried to do a Core yoga class while having a pretty bad reaction to it, which turned out to not be the most helpful decision ever.

Then Friday happened. I changed my scenery a little bit by doing yoga in my living room instead of my office, and I think that was one small change that made it instantly easier. I pushed myself to do all of the poses and move through the vinyasas, and it just felt...easier.

Then came my class that I went to in-person Saturday. I told myself that I was going to push myself this time. I wasn't going to automatically revert to child's pose if I thought I couldn't do it - I was going to do basically the yoga equivalent of a "no thank you" bite. You know what happened? I DID IT. ALL OF IT. It wasn't easy, and I sweat a lot and swore to myself a lot and I almost fell a couple of times, but I did it. To say I felt amazing was an understatement. I'd moved my body in ways it hasn't seen in years, and I felt so accomplished and amazing.

Then came yesterday. I was doing my class online and it was the same type of class as the in-person one from Saturday, a Flow class. I love flow classes! It was with a different teacher and I was doing it at home and I felt a little nervous because I'd never taken a class with this teacher before, but I was going to tough it out. This teacher was basically satan (not really, but I sure swore at her a lot.). My legs hurt so bad today, and I left that class mad that it was so hard. But I did it. Every bit of it. Even Lizard Pose, which is basically the worst pose in the history of yoga poses. Also, you can't see it in this picture, but that front leg comes down and away from the body. HOW DOES ONE EVEN CONTORT THEIR BODY THIS WAY AND HAVE IT STILL FEEL GOOD? I suspect I will never know the answer to this question. BONKERS. AND THEN THERE'S THE FLYING LIZARD POSE IN WHICH YOU COME UP ON YOUR ARMS. YOUR ARMS, PEOPLE! 

What I've discovered is that I totally have a mental block about exercise of any kind, even if it's fun and I like it, and yoga fits very much into this category. I start off with the assumption that I can't do it, so I shouldn't even try, and then the wheels fall off the wagon from there. What I love about yoga is that you can meet yourself exactly where you are - no assumptions, no judgment. If you're in a mental place to push yourself a little further, great! But it's not a requirement. There's no pressure whatsoever to do something you can't/shouldn't or be someone you're not. 

What I've realized is that my block around exercise is totally, totally mental. I used to think that the problem was that I had this mentality of "what does it matter?" and while that thinking is problematic in and of itself, the actual root of that problem weed was that I start with the assumption that I can't do it. I can't do it and I'm going to give it up in frustration at some point anyway, so what does it matter? I was quitting before I even started! And then, if it got hard, my assumption that I couldn't do it was confirmed - see? I can't do it! I have been trapped in total black-and-white thinking about my ability to exercise for probably my entire life. Hello, gray area, very nice to meet you in this area of my life finally. I see you like the word "yet" at the end of my problematic thought here and that's uncomfortable for me, but it's getting easier. I appreciate your arrival and hope that you stay.

The moment you realize you're trapped in a problematic cycle of thinking is the moment you become freer from it, to a point. The first step in solving any problem is recognizing there is one, is what I'm saying. The thing is, I've known for years that I was trapped in this cycle, but I couldn't dig into the "yeah, but what's really happening here" underneath the "what does it matter" thought. I knew there was something there underneath it, but for some reason, I wasn't able to access it. Yoga helped me access that assumption that I can't do it and start to challenge it.

I'm not to the generalizing part of it yet, and I'm hoping I'll get there. I want to start running again and I want to mentally be able to tolerate hiking (what I've discovered is that it's about the pressure of summiting that I hate about it, so that's a step, even if I don't know what I want to do with that information yet), but I'm not there for either of those things yet. It's a process, as all things are.