Cancer is a wicked mind game.  While you sit with it and roll it around in your brain, it consumes most conscious thought.  During the first month I continually looked at others hoping to find someone else with cancer.  It’s this need to not be so alone.  I began to look at people and make assumptions of who might have had cancer, and what kind.  I wanted to meet them but only if they were going to be all right.  I wanted companionship but only if it lifted my spirits.  I wanted someone else to have it with me yet I couldn’t wish that on someone.  The statement, “misery loves company” becomes real.  I so wanted to share this misery.  The statistics say one out of every eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer.  Well, where were they?  I couldn’t see them.  Unless they were bald, I couldn’t tell who had cancer.  That was also the same with me.  When I was diagnosed I felt great.  I couldn’t feel anything wrong.  I didn’t feel sick.  So how could I really have it?  That is the great irony, isn’t it? 

The surprising part was eventually learning how many people I know have had breast cancer.  Friends of my mom’s let me know they were survivors for over 30 years.  Checkers at the grocery store comforted me with their stories.  People from work shared the news of their survivorship.  So even though I couldn’t see the cancer, I found out that many have been diagnosed before me and have lived long and healthy lives.  And that’s the lesson.  A breast cancer diagnosis is NOT a death sentence.   Change your mind set if that is what you believe.  Read the previous sentence over and over and write it in your journal.  Create an affirmation about living.  Learn to believe that you will survive and thrive long after this diagnosis. 

READING THAT HELPED ME ACCEPT MY LIVING:  The Power of Intention by Wayne Dyer and Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. 

Both of these just showed up in my life at the appropriate time.  I began to learn about synchronicity during this period because everything I seemed to need showed up.  It appeared either through friends or while watching a TV show or seeing an advertisement or through a conversation.  It happened with my doctors, with my choice of treatments, and with my reading choices.  I had to believe in it because it happened too often to chalk it up to coincidence.  

             Aloneness, no one, empty, without, comfortless, alone, alone, alone. . .

            Misery loves company but there is no company after diagnosis.  It doesn’t matter all those before me; it doesn’t matter all those after me.  I am solitary and alone in my body, the body that has betrayed me.  I ask it what I did to hurt us so. What could I have done differently?  It speaks nothing.  It leaves me deaf.  I am Helen Keller without understanding, before the words and signs have meaning.  I have only myself to cling to but it is a vacant hold.

            There are no answers.  There is not enough information, just circling in a holding pattern.  It is almost a relief.  Waiting and not breathing; time standing still yet with each sensation inside my biopsy scar, under the bruise I know nothing is quiet. Now, I wait for the next step.  It will not come soon enough. It will come too soon with answers.

            So, to move forward means to laugh.  Never quit laughing.  Sometimes even laugh at cancer but be wary of the sacrilege – that’s the fear again.  Which is right? Just give me the answers to know how to proceed.  I must do it right?  Can there be a right way?  People live and die doing whatever they do whether it’s right or wrong.  What does cancer want?

The isolation denies any other reality but cancer.  A veil keeps all touch, comfort, and words out of focus.    People are at a distance, even spouses.  No one else has cancer.  You’re it.  You are alone.  Even those who have it, have a different kind, or different stage, or different treatment.  You are alone.  You are swimming for your life but you can’t see a direction toward shore.

First I felt betrayed by my own body.  How could my body have allowed this growth and not told me before it was too late?  Why did this happen?  Then I felt like the betrayer.  What did I do to hurt myself? Maybe if we had had our water tested, maybe if I hadn’t eaten non-organic food, maybe if I didn’t sit in the hot tub so much, maybe if I had quit my job sooner, maybe if I hadn’t quit my job.  Fortunately I had Tom, my surrogate dad while growing up, who said these emotions would appear and that eventually I would realize I couldn’t blame myself.  Somehow I found that I had to forgive myself for being human.  Until then, everything in the house, in the refrigerator, in the air, in the space at work, all looked like poison.  I was so certain that somehow if I just quit doing whatever it was that caused the cancer, it would make it go away or at least stop the disease from spreading.  Thank goodness this obsession passes.  If it didn’t, I would have starved to death before the cancer ever got me. 

            My friends take some of the deafness from my solitary fear.  They love me.  They caress me with their arms, their intuition, their minds, and their hearts.  They allow me to melt down inside many martinis.  They share my fear with me.  They say I’m cute in my drunkenness.  They love me with their actions.  They love me through their hope. 

This was the beginning of accepting my cancer.  I think maybe at some point I knew I had to embrace the disease.  I had to face cancer’s portrait and not hide. This didn’t happen over night, but this was how my journey began.  Two of my dear friends, Kathy and Jo Ann, spent the evening with me talking and drinking.  I didn’t give up martinis until the next day! We cried together, we laughed together, and we drank together, unfortunately that night we didn’t eat enough together.  They had to call my husband to come pick me up, literally, off the floor.  There’s nothing like a good drunk in the midst of desolate fear.  I am happy to report that I recovered from that evening and as time passed, I pretty much gave up alcohol.  These two friends traveled this difficult road with me.  At every turn they were there listening, holding, loving and believing in me.  Through them, I became less alone; I became well.

Revelation time.  I just had that aha moment while reading chapter six of The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz.  He talks about fighting against the parasite of the mind, that we need to be warriors on our own behalf.  I understand the concept but I’m not in that warrior space anymore.  I believe I have to see life through love.  Hokey, I know but it has been working for me.  

In chapter six, Ruiz speaks about forgiving and its importance.  So much of what I’ve read and discovered has to do with forgiveness because we ultimately have to forgive ourselves.  It sounds simple, just say I’m sorry.  Well yes, that’s a first step but you have to believe you need to forgive and then you have to forgive.  Not so easy.  

I just read the segment that says you must forgive and there is a whole list of who and what to forgive ending with God.  Forgive God?  That’s blasphemy.  If I was blaming God or angry at God there would be only hell to pay – litereally in Catholicism.  I’d be damned to that space with no way out, and how does that work when we’re told that God forgives everyone and everything.  There are truly some mixed messages in religious doctrine.  So here’s the revelation, I do need to forgive God.  I have to work this through but what I know is that I have hidden my anger at things I believe God is responsible for which is basically everything since God is the omnipotent and is in control.  Well, I never really expected to uncover those unspeakable feelings.  

I now realize I probably really need consider this idea and in forgiving God, I will ultimately forgive myself which means I’ll let go of guilt, pain and sorrow, and voila . . . I’ll be fixed.  Well, alright not quite that easy but it’s a step that will help me I’m sure.  I really do believe forgiveness is a key to health and happiness. 

CHAPTER 1                       

Week 1 / Day 1 – August 20, 2007

The call came; the words didn’t need to be spoken as I held the phone.  I knew the diagnosis.  I didn’t know the extent but at the first mention of cancer came the balloon of fear.  With each escape of air another uncertainty appears.  Maybe if I hold my breath I can save myself from the prognosis.  Hold time still. Don’t move.

Day one of diagnosis came on a Monday.  Those first moments after the call etched a corrosive fear inside my head and throughout my entire being.   I received the call from the imaging center doctor who had performed the biopsy.  Fortunately I was sitting down when she said I tested positive for breast cancer because feeling vanished from my body.  All the cliché’s became real.  My legs turned to rubber, my breath shallowed, my heart raced, and numbness swallowed me. I asked what I could ask but the questions were limited: how big, how bad, what kind, what do I do? 

I’m not sure I heard anything specific other than she said I had cancer.  She eased some of my anxiety by telling me she thought she removed almost the entire lump.  What I know now is that really means very little because I’d eventually have my entire breast removed, but at that moment I felt some relief.  For a brief period I had the perception that if cancer was removed and it measured small then voila everything is fine.  She may have told me the specific diagnosis but I heard nothing but cancer.  When I asked what we do next she said I’d need to speak with my primary care physician and then find an oncologist.  I was shocked to find out that I would not be working any more with her or this clinic.  They are a diagnostic center only.  I had never considered what that meant if they ever diagnosed cancer. I was on my own. That brings with it both good and bad. The bad is the all-consuming fear that squeezed my thoughts to distraction until I finally could contact my primary care physician.  I wanted someone to fix it and take care of me just like when I was a child.  Parents could fix anything. I wanted that.  The good comes from realizing I had to take care of myself.   I couldn’t just sit back and wait for someone to kiss it and make it better.  I had to help myself.  I needed “brain surgery.” The first of that came when she told me the one thing I desperately needed to hear before we hung up. She said she believed my cancer would be just an inconvenience for a year and then life would return to normal.  It wasn’t until we saw the oncologist that I received an involved diagnosis. 

My primary care physician recommended a breast surgeon in Denver. We saw the surgeon within the week.  She talked about the diagnosis but I was more focused on the options she presented: lumpectomy, single mastectomy or double mastectomy and what that meant from her perspective.  Not one of the choices left me without disfigurement.  However, she recommended an oncologist for us to see to learn more about my diagnosis so I could make a better decision about surgery. 

We left her office and walked to the cancer clinic in the hospital across the street.  The oncologist offered to meet with us after his last scheduled appointment.  In the meantime we walked to another building to set up time with a recommended plastic surgeon to talk about reconstruction.  She saw us within the hour and spoke of cancer from her perspective as a doctor and as a breast cancer survivor.  In many ways I was overloaded with too much information for one day but we did it because of sense of urgency and the fact we live four hours away. We decided to try to work our way in and see all of the doctors during this same day. 

We went back to the oncologist to wait for our turn.  He’s the one that really interpreted the diagnosis.  Jim wrote his words down as we listened.  I really avoided hearing too much for fear that I might jinx myself with my own fear. There are posters of the different stages of breast cancer in each office.  I didn’t want my cancer to be the worst so I chose not to focus on stage and size.  I heard I was sort of in the middle.  I’ve always preferred the middle.  It’s safer.  I’m protected on each side like when you’re called alphabetically to do something.  I wasn’t first and I wasn’t last.  I didn’t realize till just now how heavily that belief plays out in my life. I know I had what is called in-situ and I also invasive breast cancer.  I have chosen to ignore the invasive because it sounds worse.  I had a Her-2 element as well as the cancer being estrogen positive.  The oncologist spent an hour and a half with us repeating answers to questions and building us up into a belief in my survivorship.  He tossed out statistics to confirm how each different treatment from lumpectomy to bilateral mastectomy to varying kinds of chemo concoctions would affect the percentage of cure.  We listened and then asked again when we couldn’t quite understand.  He never once made me feel like we were taking up his time and he managed to make us feel like we were in control of helping me.  He was amazing.  He is the factor that didn’t turn up in his statistics. His ability to know my psychological needs even above my physical needs made the difference.

Okay, it’s time.  I had two friends talk to me on consecutive days last week about my memoir.  I’ve set it aside for about six months.  My excuse was summer but I think that’s not it now.  It’s funny how excusing yourself for something makes you believe your own denial.  

I have been writing this memoir for a couple of years now.  It chronicles my breast cancer journey.  I actually finished the first draft and had it edited by a good friend, Laurie Wagner Buyer an excellent editor, not to mention an amazing author.  She’s been one mentor who has offered me her guidance and energy to tackle writing from the creative angle rather than the teaching perspective.  I am slow to accept my writing but these nudges from others puts some pressure on me to get going again.

So here is what I’ve done this week.  I have researched again (did this 6 months ago) the kind of books out there on breast cancer to be able to convince an agent that my book is unique in its presentation.  I have then begun to revise my query letter for finding an agent. I have also researched agents that I plan to send my letter to.  I am giving myself until next Thursday, Jan 19 to finish and mail out queries to agents.  The other plan is to post on this website excerpts from the memoir as well as some tips on living through cancer.  

I am telling you this as a way to enroll you into helping keep me on target with my goal to have this memoir published before next year, 2013.  Even though we all understand the need to have our feet held to the fire, I really decided to try this since I have been working with Marcia Weider found of Dream University.  I found her through a webcast interview I listened to.  Her Next Step course sounded practical and achievable. I have listened to her program as well as other webcasts she is producing about making dreams come true.  One of her steps tells us to enroll others into believing in your dream.  Clearly my friends above already believe.  It’s now me who needs to.  

So stay tuned, I’ll let you know how it goes.  My feet are burning already!

I am so happy to say I enjoyed New Year’s Eve quietly watching a movie, which I fell asleep to and woke in the morning without a headache or a wish for more sleep.  I just read another blog, The Accidental Comic who also wrote about his experience in celebrating the new year.  He brought up a very good point.  We morning people need to rise up against the night owls and enjoy our parties in the afternoon when we need a little sugar rush and can continue coherent conversations without yawning.

I have never been crazy about staying up until 12:00 to usher in a new year.  First of all I feel like the date is all wrong.  I am ready for the new year to begin in September.  That’s when summer ends and school begins.  It just seems like the time to say farewell and hello.  January 1st is too close to the Christmas celebration and it’s bringing with it mostly cold to those of us in the multi-climates.  It seems more like a half-hearted gesture to find a reason to look forward to the next couple of months of dark, cold and snow.  

So this year like many others, I watched a movie.  Well I didn’t even get that done very well.  I had to finish it in the morning.  It was a cute movie too, Midnight in Paris.  Jim and I hauled ourselves to the bed at about 10:00, okay I’m embarrassed to say it was 9:30.  At about 12:05 I woke up and thought it was very weird to see lightning on December 31.  I then heard the pops and cracks and realized some neighbors were shooting off fireworks. They clearly stayed awake and celebrated.  With that, Jim and I kissed in the new year, turned over and disappeared into our dreams again.  

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year !

I spend a lot of time reading.  It used to be that I read only fiction.  My degree is in literature and I spent 26 years teaching high school English.  Fiction brought me escapism and encouraged my dreams.  Now I spend most of my time reading non-fiction.  Funny how our tastes change.  I read about self help and spiritual growth, about health and well being.  Somehow it seems pretty important now to become and grow into the person I was meant to be.  Maybe that’s over thinking the measure of life but that’s where I reside now.

With that said, I am reading You Can Heal Your Life by Louise L. Hay.  She’s been around a long time helping people recover from patterns that make them ill emotionally and physically.  As usual I don’t find the ideas startling or even new but what I find helpful in her work is she gives you the “how to” in making the philosophical become actual.  

For years we’ve all made the comment, “get over it; let it go.”  That makes perfect sense.  We all have stuff we should unload.  Sometimes it’s angst about something we have no control over or anger about  events that happened long ago, or fear involving old patterns that may no longer exist  It’s an unending list that most of us have.  Louis Hay actually gives examples and prescriptions for how to let go and remove those old patterns.  

Chapter 7 in the book focuses on letting go.  In one exercise, Hay asks the reader to sit quietly, take a deep breath and as you exhale let tension leave your body. Release the tension in each area of your body, face, arms, back, legs, etc.  I have done that for years so this was no surprise.  However what she asks us to do after several rounds of this is to say to yourself, “I am willing to let go.  I let go.  I release all tension,  I release all fear.  I release all anger.  I release all guilt.  I release all sadness.  I let go of all limitations.  I let go, and I am at peace.  I am at peace with myself.  I am at peace with the process of life.  I am safe.”  

Hay suggests to the reader to do this several times a day and every day until it becomes second nature. She then has another exercise to clean up our past.  She suggests to the reader to make a list of things we are willing to let go of.  As we write them down notice our reactions.  Then use the above exercise to release these emotional attachments to the past.  

Here’s what I liked.  I wrote my list then.  Another day I added to it.  I surprised myself with some of the junk that appeared. I always believed I had let go of the past as long as I pushed it from my mind and didn’t think about it.  Not true.  Many of these items I have ignored but have not released.  This exercise let me recognize each incident, notice my emotional attachment to it and then physically allow myself to let it go.  What it made me realize is that I have to make the physical attempt to let go.  Just telling myself to get over it only makes me stuff it inside.  So this process has the ability to allow me to actually, physically release whatever it was which then transfers to the emotional release.  

So now when I am tempted to tell myself to “get over it” I have the tools to actually do that.  Yahoo!

I am saddened at the news of a friend’s death. I feel such sorrow for his wife who will spend time missing her partner, and the family who lost their dad.

What cheers me up is thinking about his new adventure. I believe he’s left this body but his spirit is out dancing in a new space. I even believe he’s reconnected with others he loved. Whether or not this new realm works similarly to what we know in this world doesn’t matter. I believe he is wrapping his family within his love. I know they feel it.

And Jack . . . say hi to Mom and Dad for me!

I’m reading the book The Third Jesus by Deepak Chopra.  You have to understand that I’ve never read the bible. I’m Catholic.  Other Catholic’s will understand this but non-C’s may think I am blasphemous for this indiscretion.  However, as a Catholic we were told about what was in the bible somewhere during mass.  It’s been a long time so I really don’t remember the entire process.  At any rate this is not about Catholicism but more about me finally hearing a message at the right time with the appropriate explanation.  The closest thing to the bible for me is someone else’s interpretation so I am finding Chopra’s book interesting.  

We can heal ourselves with a grain of faith. Jesus, in frustration said to this to his disciples when they asked why they couldn’t help a child with epilepsy.  He also responded to the child’s father who asked for Jesus to heal his son,  “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you?” (Matthew 17:40 – 20).  Faith, that’s what he’s talking about, not the etherial faith I understood from Catechism but bold faith in knowing we are all one.  What we think is our reality.  We often speak of mind over matter.  We explain the importance of understanding how our thoughts can form our life.  We can choose to see life with the glass half empty or with it half full.  There are many cliches connected to this. The essence is that we must not depend on someone outside of ourselves to find faith.  We must be faith.  

I have been searching for several years to discover how to help myself. I’ve been looking for meaning in life and death. I’ve been searching for what it is that I do believe.  I have been seeking out teachers for self-help, for spiritual practices, and for health.  What I heard in that statement by Jesus is that it’s time to believe in me and God.  By that I mean, it’s me that needs to accept what I believe not anyone else.  And although I can still seek out teachers to help me understand, I ultimately have to accept that I already know what I’m searching for inside.  Jesus or any other guide is not here with us permanently.  I must know that I am God and he is me  We are one.  If I want to be healed, then I am healed.  It’s me that must believe.