Tell Me Something Good

So here I am teaching a yoga class on Saturday morning, the place I LOVE to be, in that shadowy room with friendly people of similar heartfelt intentions, and as I started the class I found that tears were running down my face; I could barely speak and my voice was really quavery (partially because I won't be with them for a few weeks in September and I know how much I'll miss it--and partially because after five months of just stoically taking myself to be poisoned every week, and partially because I HAVEN'T shared any of this with them and have been like a secret agent in my wig; cancer incognito...)

And at a certain point after being completely unable to cease the flow of tears I thought, "They're going to think I'm having a nervous breakdown; I'd better SAY something," because I'm usually very upbeat in yoga class... THIS came blurting out:

"I've just completed five months of chemo, and I'm about to have my boobs cut off in two weeks, and I'm sick of this f&%*ing wig!"

I ripped it off and threw it on the floor-- and they all broke out in clapping and cheers! And most came up to hug me, saying what a great role model I am, how strong, etc. Extremely supportive. One never knows where one is going to be safe, but the yoga class is one of those places for me. - Patrice Dickey, Your Guide to the Life You Love., Atlanta, GA