It hit me the moment I was standing in front of what I once only saw as a photograph
The days I recovered from chemotherapy I knew I wasn’t as physically active, and it would affect me when I would get back into exercise or sports like activities. I was home-bound 90% of the time and essentially a couch potato. However, I thought a few months at the gym would bring me back to at least an average level of active. I mean, I had time to do so.
Pre Diagnosis and Post-Diagnosis
I had been starting to plan for a very high-level of activities sort of trip with a group of friends. I’ve been active in the Boy Scouts of America through the co-ed program known as Venturing. Venturing is a high adventure program for older scouts, male and female, aged 14 through 20. This trip, was going to be our first hands-on experience with High Adventure. We decided on one of the BSA’s High Adventure Base’s, known as Florida Sea Base. Our trek, was a wilderness survival aspect in the middle of the Florida Keys, on an island called "Big Munson Island", where we would canoe out to the island owned by the base, and while camping there, we would kayak, snorkel, fish and participate in other similar water based activities.
This trip was a team trip, we prepared for it together, planned it together, and would be living together on this island for 5 days. My mindset changed during the preparation period. Cancer can knock the wind out of you, no matter what your condition was before hand, how healthy you were or how well you handled treatment. The amount of mixed emotions going into it began to grow. Saving money, buying equipment, and basic traveling information, that was the easy part (at least in the youth perspective), but going on a trip with such extremities as a fairly recent cancer survivor? I don’t even know where to begin explaining.
Sharing stories can be difficult, as I find so lately. I’m never an attention seeker, I enjoy recognition, but never to prove anything or with any selfish intention. People will always find their own opinions no matter what you do. That adds to the emotional baggage in survivorship. With recovery, come’s finding ways to let go pieces of that emotional weight.
Each one of us on this trip have a different perspective of what the trip was like. With that, there is a lot of things that can happen in just seven days. This perspective is a cancer survivor, who’s trip, became closure.
Pre- Sea Base
In the early months of 2015 we decided on our destination, where I was just a few months shy of completing treatment. It worked out, that I would be clear well over a year to fully go through with it. The trip was to be August 1-8, 2016. So, I went to the gym, worked at summer camp, and started to get myself back to normal. The trip in my mind was all focused on having fun with my friends. Then my post-chemo side effects became more prominent, and started to make the process more difficult. I started to worry about if I would be physically prepared. I found myself struggling to swim, worrying about anything that would happen, and all sort of anxieties that I couldn’t find control over.
Then I found Inspiration to help. While browsing through an REI store I came across a book called "WILD: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail", by Cheryl Strayed. I was familiar with her, and somewhat of her story. The few weeks that I was in college before my diagnosis, my English class was covering personal essays where one her essays was one we looked at. The movie version was also coming out, where the book became popularized. At first I was attracted to her story because it involved the outdoors, then I felt her story as I went through my own experience, and why she did what she did. After hitting a breaking point in her life, she hiked the pacific crest trail to get herself back to the way she once was. That clicked in my head, I realized how to make this trip meaningful for myself.
“That my complicated life could be made so simple was astounding.”
― Cheryl Strayed, "From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail".
In a way, I felt that I could start over through the experience. All of the anxieties and fears would become proven wrong, and would give me an opportunity to leave it behind. My anxieties would follow me up until the morning of the trip.
Day 1
We met up at 3 am, so, a few hours previously I purchased energy shot drinks and several shots of espresso. I had no idea how I would handle the flight, and sleeping would throw me off balance. Biggest Mistake. I was sick, and surviving on cheerios and pretzels throughout the flight. I tried reading, writing notes in a journal, and sight-seeing while the time passed.
Once we landed, several things happened. The stomach pains went away, my mood changed, and a smile rested on my face. We spent a little while waiting for the shuttle to the bus terminal, but in front of me, was a palm tree. I was astounded, and amazed by it, and that I was seeing one in person. I don’t get to travel much, nor have as a child, so I find wonder in the small things.
Everyone was on their phones on this trip, whereas I left it home. (For all I knew, we were going to a SEA base, why would I waste time worrying about a piece of electronics?) As the bus traveled down the freeway, the view outside the window was worth more to me, than being able to catch a Pokemon from a new area. My doctors office had photos of fish and beaches all around the building, and here I was about to be surrounded by it all in person. How could I just ignore that?
This day was mostly tourism. Hotel, Beach, Browsing, all the basic enjoyment you would find on trip. Then the next day we’d be on our way.
Day 2
This is where the trip started to hit me. We woke up to polar swim in the ocean at 6 am. I’m not a beach person (yet here I was), and never swam in the ocean. I’m a New Yorker, I’ve got a mix of everything near me, but I prefer not to have sand in my toes. This was where all of that would be put aside, and I'd push myself to experience everything. Everyone jumped and ran into the water upon walking onto the beach. I hesitated. I’ve only ever stepped in up to my knees, and as I got closer, the current was strong and I receded. I was afraid. It happened out of instinct almost,but I stayed in the water.
When we got to base, it was check-in, tours, swim test, etc etc. It was a beautiful spot, our dorms were nice, and they treated us great. Our tour guides were the best. They showed us our gear, answered our questions, and instructed us on our next tasks. Two of the things I was nervous most about were next. I went second to last on our swim test, not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t want to be the first. Our snorkel lesson gave me butterflies that I tried keeping in a jar. I wasn’t cleared to Scuba Dive, but I could snorkel. I put it on, and started crying after a few minutes. I tried so hard not to think of it, but it happened. I couldn’t breathe, I wasn’t comfortable, I took it off a few minutes and just played with the goggles. I was disappointed, but not surprised, and reassured myself to tough it out.
Days 3-8
The next morning, we had our bags checked and bagged, cleaned up the gear, loaded gear, and spent what felt like forever in a Polynesian war canoe. My patience was severely tested, but I was determined to “go with the flow”. The second mistake a made at this point of the trip, was changing my shorts. I had cargo like shorts on, and went with the decision to wear swim shorts. All I had, were girl’s swim shorts you wear as a cover up for a one piece. They are NOTHING but fashionable, as the tan line from the painful sunburn can show, and pair of shorts that I wore the rest of the week have indent from trying to avoid more pain.
We got to snorkel a bit then started to settle or camp on island, where we trudged in and out of the water (and would do so everyday). While bringing everything in, a Sea Turtle swam past us, which, I can’t even begin to describe other than beautiful.Then afterwards, the staff held an opening ceremony for us, and later we watched the stars together before we went to bed.
The first night, I had a spot right at the end of the trail to my hammock, where I sat, felt the sand (that was more like dirt to me) at my fingers, and took in the moment to be able to feel it. I watched the sky, listened to the waves, and finally realized that I was no longer looking at something that was once an image, but now was real.
The rest of the week, we’d explore the island, kayak through Mangroves, Fish for Sharks and other types of tropical fish, and spend an afternoon Snorkeling in the Coral Reefs. The second day we were able to night snorkel, and I got to watch a sunset that I can’t find anywhere else, and that was enough for me. Everyone had the opportunity to do an activity for a Snorkeling Award, and I didn’t want to do it. They had to dive down and bring a flashlight back up, and I couldn’t. I hung by the boats the last few minutes and would do nothing else. The day we were snorkeling in the Coral Reefs, I couldn’t let my fears get the best of me, it would completely defeat my purpose, and the purpose of the trip. So I did the activity then, with a snorkel mask. Then went back to swimming around and later sitting on the boat just admiring the water.
“I knew that if I allowed fear to overtake me, my journey was doomed. Fear, to a great extent, is born of a story we tell ourselves, and so I chose to tell myself a different story from the one women are told. I decided I was safe. I was strong. I was brave. Nothing could vanquish me.” -Cheryl Strayed, "WILD: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail"
The last thing I (somewhat) conquered, was food. I grew up a picky eater, then cancer limited me even further. Fish, was a big item on both lists. I had to eat it, which I didn’t suffer through really, but I was concerned in the beginning. The end result was an amazing meal of Spanish mackerel. However, I was still picky about everything else, which I need to work on still.
Every aspect of this trip, I loved, even when I was afraid. This was an opportunity I could possibly never have again, and had a slight chance of not even getting to. That’s the part that made this trip emotional. It’s hard sometimes for people to see that. No matter your odds, you never know when something could be your last. Every night I walked to that spot on the beach and smiled, and cried and thanked God for being where I was. My friends helped make it worth it onto of it all. We were together through it all, despite being in separate groups, and the few occasions we went different ways. Some were even there at my emotional pinpoint of the week.
Every Night, we’d sit together on our site and talk about the day, in a debrief. We’d watch the stars and say what we liked and didn’t like, and what we looked forward to. The last night the staff did a closing, like they had done an opening ceremony for us. Then, we had our last mini-campfire. Before the trip, I had thought of something perfect and significant for myself to do, to be the final piece inclosure I needed. I had medical bracelets that I had found, from my first surgery, and one of my treatments. I wanted to burn them in a fire and collect the ashes. That night however, it happened to be the windiest night out of all of them, and several people wanted to go to bed. Our last round of debrief, I have no pure recollection of what I had said, but I know I started to choke up. I mentioned the bracelets and a few people jumped to help at the end. After wasting quite a few matches, and moving to the propane stove, I had my moment. I watched the pieces of plastic turn to ash, and nothing but a memory that I could now move on from. It was symbolic, imagery to put into my own mind to find significance enough to close a chapter in my life and start a new one. That last night I sat along the beach one more time and fell to my knees with sand still in my hands. I felt the breeze and the smell of the ocean through my veins, and wished I had more time, but still felt different from the first day I had arrived. Change takes time, and doesn’t always happen overnight, but I could feel weight lifted off of my shoulders.
The last day, we packed up, unloaded and began another canoe back to base. We stayed in our dorms one last night, and enjoyed some more Sea Base meals, before packing up, buying our souvenirs, and heading home. Traveling home took awhile between the drive to the airport, the delays, and the flight itself, but it also felt sad to be leaving.
My final thoughts are this, the trip started as another trip with the Venture Crew, or Troop, with more adventure, then became that with deeper meaning. We went beyond our comfort zones and did something different than any of us had done before and/or expected. We lived a story to be shared and encouraged. Then, we each lived it in our own way. Me personally, I carried my baggage, my inspiration and my team spirit with me. I made sure to find a way to let go of my past, I had “WILD” in my bag on the island, and I have my experiences with my friends. I also came home with a different perspective, and goals to work on. I carry the ashes from those vases in a vial to remind me of what we did, and what I was able to do. It may seem selfish at times, but there are times we need to focus on a few details for ourselves. There’s nothing wrong in that. In order to heal our wounds, sometimes we need to clean them, and bring them to the surface. The patches, and the photographs may show one thing, but the stories each of us have to share, are another. Take advantage of the opportunities you have, you never know when you'll have them. When you do have them, enjoy them, because they're worth more than what we may realize. Stepping outside of your comfort zone is sometimes for the best. It allows to to learn of your fears and face them.
Post Sea Base
Change takes time, and in steps. I came home and felt that pieces of my life were no longer a priority or concern. I still struggle with some adjustments, but it's life. We can't expect to fix or change everything at once. My mindset has shifted to stay positive and enjoy life's little things. Life is too short to waste on petty things. I never intend to do anything selfishly, which going into the trip I had been worried about. What I can say about that, is we all need a moment for ourselves. We all carry weights on our chests, and whose to say we can't do something to lift that burden? No need to brag, but also no need to hide. Enjoy yourselves ladies and gentlemen. If you let anyone else affect your happiness in such a large way, whose life are you really living? Live that life of yours to the fullest. Every happy moment and sad one, is worth it. We can't always be brave and strong and tough things out. We hit points where we break, and I, along with the other, were warned that it was just as much of a mental trip as a physical one. That I learned the lesson from after everything I went through before and went through then. It wasn't a difficult trip, but challenging enough to say it was an adventure. It gave me something to take away, and a place to leave something behind.
"To know that seeing the fish beneath the surface of the water was enough. That it was everything. It was my life - like all lives, mysterious and irrevocable and sacred. So very close, so very present, so very belonging to me.
How wild it was, to let it be.”-Cheryl Strayed, "From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail".
