New blog title

Breathing is something that we rarely think about, unless we can't do it. "Breathe" is a common tag line for people affected by cystic fibrosis. In fact, I have a "breathe" tattoo that I got in honor of my husband last summer. My sister-in-law and a friend also got breathe tattoos at the same time for my husband.

Gessner thought a lot about breathing and I thought a lot about his breath as I would lay there awake watching him breathe in and out as he slept, watching his chest expand and contract, listening to the sound of his lungs taking in oxygen. I routinely listened to the depth of his breaths to gauge how he was feeling and to see if something was wrong. I'd hear him gasp for air when he was sick and needed oxygen. I'd listen for wheezing or shallow breaths and any change to his breathing pattern. At the end, a ventilator breathed for him and I would watch it as is pumped oxygen into his lungs. Every minute he would breathe an extra breath on his own--in my mind a tribute to his fighting nature. And then as the ventilator was removed, I watched as he took his last breaths. Slow and peaceful, to my great relief. I'll never forget those last breaths, the end of the body that held the love of my life. In a lot of ways, the end of my life.

I have a habit of holding my breath when I get anxious or nervous and sometimes even when I am working out. So, I need to be reminded to breathe sometimes. There are also times when I miss Gessner so much that I literally feel like I cannot breathe. He was my oxygen in so many ways, and now that he is gone, I have to find another source. I have been told by a couple of massage therapists that I do not know how to breath properly, referring to not breathing with my diaphragm or expelling all of the breath properly. I'm starting to think that they may be on to something. So, I am setting out to learn how to breath again. I'm sure that I knew how to do it properly at some time, likely before my life was overcome by stress and anxiety. I am learning to breathe without Gessner holding my hand and without a safety net. I am learning to breathe on my own.

It's a scary place to be, but I find that I have no choice. In the midst of a particularly rough night a friend reminded me that I don't really have any other choice but to put one foot in front of the other, day after day. And it's true. I don't have a lot of options, so for now I will breathe in and breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Go through one day at a time, making it through what I can and leaving the rest.

I'm reading Full Catastrophe Living by Jon Kabat-Zinn and will be working with a specialist to integrate the concepts into my life. This book describes the Mindfulness-Based Stressed Reduction Program that started at the University of Massachusetts Medical Center and is now used all over the country to help patients use meditation for healing. My cancer center has an 8-week mindfulness program that I may take in the future, but can't fit it in my crazy cancer treatment schedule right now.

I meet with one of the teachers of the class yesterday for a one-on-one session and we talked about mindfulness and how to be mindful and reduce stress. She hooked me up to a biofeedback machine and it was neat to physically see my muscles relax. I have a few more sessions scheduled with her to work on relaxation and stress relieve. I wish that I had done this earlier, but it's better late than never!