I tried a free dosha quiz this morning.
Full disclosure, I had no idea what a dosha was, but it was a welcome distraction from life.
I had decided to ride my bike. I needed to make up a few kilometres in the Lakes to London challenge, and a quick ride would cover more distance than my feeble run/walks. But Zwift is about the only thing in the this world that doesn’t know I’ve got cancer.
Despite “hello, I’m Jo and I’ve had a run in with cancer. How can I help?” tripping off my tongue in any conversation, Zwift doesn’t tend to listen.
So Zwift might potentially have expectations. And those expectations might be that I’d actually work up a sweat.
So I was frantically trying to get lost in Procrastination Central. And the dosha quiz waltzed into view. BINGO!
So, a dosha is a mind/body type associated with Ayurveda. (I do remember there being an Ayurveda skincare brand back in the day, and there were 3 types, but I thought it was all about body type – and mine was obviously the 4th type: inadequate. Which is probably why it didn’t have a range that cleared up my zits).
I digress. Understanding your dosha reveals how to keep yourself in balance to stay happy, healthy and disease free.
Oh, I want to stay disease free. (And I’ll have a side of healthy and happy, too. Yes please).
So I tippety clicked my way through the very short quiz and ta daaaa.
I’m nothing and everything.
According to the Chopra website, I am a little bit of everything. A tri-doshic. (Here was me thinking I was just a tri-social. But I guess I like to do things in 3s. Birthed 3 kids, pampered 3 fur babies, dabbled in triathlon. Someone had better explain to the hubstacle that he needn’t get excited about getting a pass any time soon. He might be husband number 2, but he’s the 3rd significant relationship).
Of the 3 doshas, I’m slightly more pitta. But I’ve always loved carbs, so that explains the extra bread…
You may be wondering where I’m going with this. And I’m standing right next to you, scratching my head.
Only kidding.
The point is, I got to the RAH today for treatment number 1 and despite adding some “Calm” essential oil to the inside of my mask, I climbed off the train in Adelaide Station with my boxing gloves tied on and ready to fight.
I had busied myself post-ride (I eventually pedalled for 30 minutes and was smugly chuffed with myself, as I realised last time I used Zwift, I figured I could drop the intensity right down. In anticipation of SIDE EFFECTS INCOMING, I had adjusted the settings so that the resistance would be suitable for CANCER PATIENT RIDING BIKE mode. Therefore, my 30 minutes in the saddle were a pleasant surprise, and very welcome seeing as I have no side effects whatsoever, having not had any treatment…).
Then I threw myself into working behind the scenes, conjuring role descriptions as studiously as Hermione Granger memorising spells.
So by the time I set off to the train station to attend my “electrification” appointment – renamed by my son, I was suitably distracted and ready to face the day. I thought.
The ride into the city is 7 minutes.
And 7 minutes is all it took for me to have wound myself up into an angry red welt of dissatisfaction.
The outrage at starting treatment on a Tuesday had washed over me and I was annoyed at everyone in the Radiation Oncology department. Literally everyone.
I think if Arlo the Cancer Service Dog had put in an appearance, I’d have been grumpy with him. (Which I apologise for even thinking, Arlo, because I am desperate to meet you for a pat).
My irritability was further heightened by everyone calling me Joanne.
I’m sure I filled something out that had a section for “preferred name” and I can assure you, it did not say Joanne.
Do you reckon it was karma?
After enduring this rant, you might be wondering why the big deal about starting on a Tuesday.
Well, the thing about radiation treatment in South Australia is that it’s only available in Adelaide. And Adelaide is 443km from home. Or a 4hr 48 minute commute (oneway) according to Google Maps. Treatment is delivered on a consecutive days (excepting weekends) and is usually a minimum of 15 daily doses. (I get 20 because I’m special).
So, us country kids have to relocate to the city to receive treatment. Only, with this escape to the city there is no dishy host offering you 3 sumptuous options and a mystery house.
I’m one of the lucky ones. I have family living in the city and can stay there.
If you don’t have family or friends you can stay with, there are lodges available. I don’t know what they charge, but I believe you get reimbursed $30/day. Which is probably about 1/3 of the outlay, I would guess, as hotel rooms cost about $100 – $200/night.
My luck is even greater because I have a job that I can do remotely, and work is being very accommodating as they’re letting me be “ultra remote” by working offline. It’s one of the perks of my line of work – I’m surrounded by people who know stuff about this sort of thing. So have nudged me to take this all a bit more seriously than I had intended.
But still. I do not want to start treatment on a Tuesday, because it means I will finish on a Monday.
I am away from my husband, my fur babies, my own bed, my garden, my fave fitness studio that is a big part of both my mental and physical wellbeing.
All the things that sustain me.
I don’t want to be away a moment longer than necessary.
And then there’s the concern that if the side effects kick in, and I’m very fatigued, 443km is a long old drive. Whilst I’m still going to have to transport my car back home, if I could travel over the weekend, I could drive in convoy with the hubstacle, or one of the kids could accompany me, and we could fly them back.
But that becomes trickier when the exodus is midweek. It’s one thing to disrupt my life, my work schedule, but it has a much bigger impact when it flows into the working lives of my nearest and dearest.
And so I was cranky that this isn’t a consideration when planning treatment for country folk. Especially as there’s plenty of us. And this isn’t a new phenomenon.
(I even started working out how teams might be organised and what needed to go into job descriptions and how that impacted role classifications by the time I got home… And wondering who I needed to talk to about fixing this up).
Maybe I should drive in to treatment tomorrow. Two x 7 minutes commuting by train appears to be way too much downtime for my brain.
Besides I am now the proud owner of a blue parking permit. Not the sort that gets you next to the doors at Woolworths. But the next best thing. (And I really wanted a blue badge!!!)
Once I was home, had thrown myself into some more work tasks and been to a soothing yin yoga session this evening, I finally wondered WHY I was so antagonised.
And there, staring back at me was a message from Chopra.
Your stress response: irritable.
Me, stressed? Pass me another pitta!