Fresh starts and progress...

Permission given by April Soetarman to use her photo

I gave up New Year's resolutions many years ago, but like most people, I enjoy fresh starts.  New years, new months, Monday mornings...  the start of anything new comes with hope and a promise of opportunity.  A clean slate.  Or so we like to imagine.

This January is no different.  While some unexplained recent bouts of random racing heartbeats have gotten me an appointment for an echo stress test, and being set up with a heart monitor I'll wear for a couple of weeks (starting late next week), and blood tests and the doctor's scale this week providing the undeniable evidence of little discipline over the holidays, I'm not letting those things discourage me too much.  Rather, I'm choosing to embrace the hope that a new year brings. 

Another truth, though, is, while you can't see the evidence on the outside, it is undeniable that I have gained back most of my strength from all that 2023 held for me.  So, in that light, I count 2024 as an overall success - even if the random racing pulse is a puzzle at the moment. 

Also, I feel pretty good about my Dexa scan last month.  It showed I'm holding steady, with a .1 increase in bone density in the spine.  

I, and others, consider holding steady as progress, since the natural progression of bone density is always to diminish if left untreated - either with medicines and/or lifestyle.  Mainly, the lifestyle changes I made to date are specific vitamin and mineral supplementation, and to change my anti-cancer drug from one that is known to diminish bone density to one that might actually benefit my bones.  

Of course, I couldn't just switch my medicine on my own.  After doing research and approaching my oncologist about this a year ago, he was agreeable to making the switch.  The new-to-me (though older) medicine doesn't come without risks, but life has become a series of weighing one risk against another and making choices I'm comfortable with.  And at this point, it's oddly helpful to recognize and accept that cancer is a bit of a crapshoot.

The internet makes research easy - which can be a good and bad thing, I realize. I suspect my doctors would prefer me to not do as much research as I do, but when I express my concerns about potential long-term side effects of certain medicines, they don't discount my worries.  Sometimes, they reword the risks, thinking they can make it more palatable, I suspect, when all they've really done is confirm what I just said I was concerned about.  I like to think they know that I'm not outright eschewing their advice or their medicines (necessarily), but I'm trying my best to actually make informed decisions, and decisions I can live at peace with.  Or, quite frankly (and possibly too morbidly for most people's tastes) decisions I can die at peace with.  When that thought settles in, it's game changing and kind of empowering.

Not that that headspace is where I live my daily life.  But there is great peace over making informed choices that take into consideration what is important to me.  It actually frees me from some fears.  I wrote briefly a couple of posts ago how knowledge about osteoporosis and what I might be able to do about it, turned fear into hope.

  

I remain open with my doctors about what I'm doing, and, in turn, they seem to respect me.  When I visited my GP last summer, after reviewing my annual blood work, I told her I didn't want to go on a medicine that has potential nasty side effects, when simple lifestyle changes might fix a perceived problem - "perceived" being key here).  This was not about OP, and I'm being intentionally vague here, so just go with it.  I also said, "I trust you'll tell me, nicely, if you think I'm being an idiot."  To which she chuckled softly and said, "You're not."

In a little over a week I will see my endocrinologist again.  Encouraged that my bone density has held steady for a year, and I am physically stronger than when I last saw her, I'm pretty sure I'm going to pass for now on the OP drug I know she wants me to take.  What I hope is that by making that choice, I don't lose a doctor I like.  She seems to listen, and not discount my concerns. But I'm not sure she had room in her files to keep a patient who isn't interested in the only treatment she can actually provide.  I mean, she'd go out of business if all of her patients wanted to try lifestyle changes first, or simply take the risk that a fracture might not happen, right?  If I do end up with a fracture at some point, I'd like to know I could see her again.  Risk/benefit scales aren't static.  They are constantly changing, depending on what's going on in one's life, and I suppose the scales might even be recalibrated when new treatments, or diagnostic tests are available.

This January I've already started working on some habits that may continue to improve things.  To be clear, I didn't start the year with great gusto and impressive resolutions only to burn out by now already.  But rather, I'm continuing to approach the building of habits in the way James Clear writes about in Atomic Habits.  Small changes accumulated regularly over time result in big improvements, or as Clear puts it:

"Habits are like the atoms of our lives.  Each one is a fundamental unit that contributes to your overall improvement.  At first, these tiny routines seem insignificant, but soon they build on each other and fuel bigger wins that multiply to a degree that far outweighs the cost of their initial investment.  They are both small and mighty. This is the meaning of the phrase atomic habits - a regular practice or routine that is not only small and easy to do, but also the source of incredible power; a component of the system of compound growth."

And spiritually, which ultimately is far more important that the physical, I'm working on private habits to take in and meditate more on scripture.  I've also signed up for a Bible study starting soon where adult women and older teen girls will study and share insights together.  And overall, I'm seeking what God wants me to do in this season of life.  What ministry opportunities I should be involved in.  Do I keep doing or increase doing what I've done in this regard in recent years, or should I do new things?  I have a feeling it will unfold slowly, and perhaps not obviously, and hopefully I'll look back and marvel again at what God has done in me, and for me - as He always has.

This is where I am in January of 2025.  A little bit all over the map, but feeling thankful and hopeful, recognizing and accepting that I have been a work in progress all my life.  And trusting that my Creator and Savior will continue to mold me and shape me as Paul writes to the believers in Philippi:

"For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work among you will complete it by the day of Christ Jesus."  - Philippians 1:6  NASB