Beta fish drop and so much more...

July 7, 2013, quietly come and went, marking the two-year anniversary of my cancer diagnosis. Today, I am doing well, feeling great on most days, and glance in my rear-view mirror less frequently. As I reflect over the past six months, I am reminded of several challenges and giggle slightly – let me explain.

Several months ago, I was experiencing frequent and painful headaches along with being increasingly focus challenged. I was terrified that I was developing brain cancer – statistically, this is the next stopping place for triple negative breast cancer (TNBC). I was not sleeping; my mind was carrying my thoughts to a lonely, fearful, and irrational place. Filled with fear and concern, I made an appointment with my oncology nurse practitioner. Walking through the doors of clinic, I was resigned to the idea that I would need a brain scan to locate the brain tumors, despite my concrete objection to scans. I sat nervously in the exam room waiting for Christy Lee, NP to make her entrance; she bounced cheerfully through the open door greeting me with “how are you doing?” I must have paused a little too long… she sat down, pulled out a pen, and a paper towel to write on while remarking, “I know you are not a fan of seeing us, what’s up?” I proceeded to frantically rattle off all of my concerning symptoms – forgetting to breathe and feeling faint as I was sweating uncontrollably. To say that I was a hot mess is a gross understatement! Christy Lee tried to rein me in as we processed one symptom at a time. In-between my symptom exploration, I had a light-bulb moment. I took a deep breath and said, “I know what is going on and it has nothing to do with cancer”. The symptoms all pointed to my ADD, which left untreated, rapidly elevates anxiety. Christy Lee continued to reassure me there was no evidence of brain cancer however; she would complete a series of interactive movement tests to confirm. Nearing the end of the testing, I was to track her moving finger with my eyes, reach out, and touch my finger to hers when the movement stopped. After a couple finger touches, I reached out and missed her finger, she gasped! I laughed and said, “I am just kidding!” We both laughed; we needed a moment of levity. SO, there is no suspicion of a brain tumor. 

Then there is Auntie Flow whom is overstaying her welcome – 18, 21, and 32 days at a time. Ironically, September – December 2011, while in the throes of a chemo-induced menopause, riddled with hot flashes and ridiculous night sweats, I longed to have Auntie back in my life to signal my body was coming back into balance. Now, I just want her to leave me alone! Crazy, frequent, chunky, and lengthy, is an accurate description of my experience during Auntie’s multiple visits. I was thinking, what the hell …. Really?!?! It looked and felt like I was delivering multiple beta fish every time I stood up. During these visits, I welcomed varying sizes of maxi-pads back into my life, my boys forced to do emergency maxi-pad store runs, along with an impromptu grocery isle celebration when I discovered the BIGGEST night night pads – whoop whoop! My Ayurvedic Practitioner, Sharon Kapp adjusted my daily herbal regiment. My Acupuncturist, Mandi Schwendiman provided TCM treatments to address Auntie’s extended stay. My GYN sent me for blood work and an invasive internal ultrasound. I did my research on how to get Auntie to vacate and ordered two essential oils from Young Living, Geranium and EndoFlex. Today, all signs point toward Aunties departure and/or reduction in length of stays. 

I love the way the universe/higher-power/God provides opportunities of support and enrichment when we need it the most. During my challenges, I experienced support and encouragement from not only my treatment team but also my family and chance encounters. My sister-in-law Athena was supportive and offered words of encouragement including urging me to embrace Auntie’s visits. I found myself sitting upon my throne, talking to Auntie Flow and asking her questions – such as what are you trying to tell me? Why will you not leave? What am I missing? While waiting for my ultrasound, a frail and soft-spoken woman, using a walker, made her way into the waiting room. The young woman walking with her excused herself to grab a cup of coffee. I let the young woman know that if her mother needed anything, I would help her out. The young woman remarked that her mom was stubborn and would not ask for help. After the daughter left, I struck up a conversation with the frail woman. I told her that I too was stubborn. We exchanged our reasons for our visits. She has been battling cancer for a while and now suffers with spine and neck pain due to the cancer metastasizing in her spine and limiting motion in her neck. She told me that she had exhausted her treatment options and accepted her life may be ending, “it is no longer in my control.” I shared my diagnosis and alternative treatment philosophy along with Auntie’s prolonged visit. The woman told me not to worry about Auntie; it was simply my body’s way of cleansing itself. I agreed. 

I recently participated in an unfamiliar alternative modality with a new practitioner. The experience was interesting and revealing, not from the modality perspective, but rather my interactions with the practitioner. It was clear that the practitioner required empirical and scientific validation that her treatments were effective. Among other things, she asked when I was getting my next scan. I asked why. She wanted a way to scientifically prove she was an effective provider. I explained to her that I do not believe in scans however, I do monitor my blood work every three months. I went on to let her know that I am doing well and that I did not need anyone to tell me that I am okay…I know that I am okay. I did not need scientific proof, she did. That is it … I KNOW I AM OKAY! 

July 2011 – When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I was completing my undergraduate degree, had been accepted into the University of Houston: Graduate School of Social Work, and was working on an exciting project with Arrow, a Foster Care agency in Houston, Texas. 

July 2013 – I am entering year two of working with The Children’s Farm Home as a skills trainer with the Intensive Community Treatment Services program, accepted into George Fox University: Clinical Mental Health Counseling program that begins in September 2013, and am in the process of developing a program that will provide support to underserved youth. I feel like I am back on track, more grounded, and better prepared to continue my work serving children and families. 

I am excited about my future! I am eternally blessed to have my husband Curtis supporting, loving, and encouraging me each day. I am watching my boys grow into responsible young men. I am beyond thrilled to be starting graduate school in September. I am hopeful and dreaming big as I continue to develop my program to support underserved youth. Life is good.

Today, I am hopeful~

Please no more, not again...

One year and seven months since diagnosis…longing to write I made it to the five-year mark and beat the odds. The year 2016 will be a triumphant one for sure!  I am in route to Houston to consult with my Ayurvedic practitioner and to undergo an ultrasound mammogram.  Prior to my departure, my tumor makers and Vitamin D levels were checked.  While there was a slight increase in one tumor marker test the others remain fixed or slightly lower since testing three months ago.  I was ecstatic to learn my Vitamin D levels registered at 65; this is the highest level yet!  Almost to my goal range of 70-100. To increase Vitamin D levels, I take 15,000IU-20,000IU of liquid drops daily.  Appropriate Vitamin D levels signal the body’s immune system is intact and working well.  When levels are low, our bodies are susceptible to disease. 

Earlier this week I was finally able to flat iron my curls away, and I felt like myself as I gazed into the mirror.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my sista’ girl curls but my appearance has changed greatly over the past year and seven months that it was comforting to look in the mirror and see a familiar face.  I was so inspired that I headed to the salon for my first real post chemo styling haircut.  I love it! It looks amazing; when I look in the mirror it is like seeing a long lost friend … It was emotional.  At the time, cutting my long hair off prior to chemotherapy and subsequently losing all my hair was not that big of a deal, I embraced my baldness.  Rediscovering me is without question helping me find footing and perpetuating my sense of peace. 

I am allowing myself to have authentic emotional moments; the reality of this diagnosis weighs heavy on me as more time passes.  Again, longing to make it to the five-year mark.  I am more determined than ever to live life as I create my legacy.  The work I do with families and children struggling with mental health issues is enormously rewarding; I look forward to going to work each day even when I am feeling a bit drained.  My husband, children, family, friends, and clients give me purpose.  I am one lucky woman for sure!  I am fortunate to be attending my children’s sporting events in full-force this year.  Watching my boys compete and celebrate sporting victories gives me joy.  I have the most incredible, supportive, loving, and adoring husband by my side; he is amazing.  Curtis emulates awesomeness!  How privileged I am.

I wrote the beginning of this blog entry as I was on the airplane traveling to Houston for a six-month check-up with my Ayurvedic practitioner and ultrasound mammogram appointment.  The morning after landing in Houston, I traveled to TOPS Breast clinic and patiently waited for over 60 minutes for the radiologist to grace me with his presence.  I was thrilled when in walked Dr. Rose.  When scheduling my appointment, I was told Dr. Rose would not be working this day. I quickly said, “You know Dr. Rose, if you were my date, I would have left a long time ago!”  We shared a giggle and the ultrasound proceeded.  He noted that everything was looking good…so far.  My eyes fixed on the imaging screen; I noticed things were quickly changing.  I watched as I saw what appeared to be the presentation of two new tumors.  The doctor switched the view to investigate if there was an increase in blood flow to the two apparent tumors. There was.  Tears welled in my eyes.  I had not even prepared myself for this unfortunate news.  I mean, my tumor marker testing seemed to be on track prior to traveling to Houston.  The doctor turned to me and said, “I am going to have to biopsy these tumors. “  I quickly fired back, “you mean to say that you are recommending a biopsy!”  With a giggle, he exclaimed, “oh, I forgot who I was talking too!”  The gentle exchanged added a bit of levity to the topic of record.  After considering the doctor’s recommendation along with the doctor reviewing my previous ultrasounds, I chose to heed his recommendation.  It was set; in the afternoon hours, I would undergo a biopsy.

As I drove to my next appointment with Sharon Kapp, my Ayurvedic practitioner, I was clearly in a state of shock.  I called my husband Curtis first.  I do not recall what I said or even his response.  What I do recall is our mutual feeling of … this does not sound good.  I called several people, during my 45-minute drive.  It was a frenzy of calls notifying people, desperate to hear words of encouragements.  I struggled to hear some of the questions and respond in a compassionate manner.  The questions included are you going to do chemotherapy now and will you finally get a mastectomy.  To answer the first question, hell no and answering the second question, why would I do that?  I believe the first question needs no further explanation, if you truly know me.  To expand upon the second question: removing ones breast does not prevent the reoccurrence of cancer.  I wish it were that simple, if it were so, then of course I would have removed them a long time ago.  If I remove my breasts and the cancer returns, it will not have the breast tissue to feast upon and therefore the cancer will take up residency in my chest wall.  Tumors in your chest wall are typically inoperable.  My theory, leave the breast tissue there, in the event the cancer returns….give it something to gobble on, the cancer can always be surgically removed.   After a semi-tearful journey to my destination, I arrived to a loving embrace from Sharon.  I whispered in her ear “I got some not so good news”. 

Still in shock, I joined Sharon for my appointment.  I was experiencing a mix of emotions, one moment fairly rational then shifting to moments of disconnect, shock, anger, impatience, frustration.  My original intention with Sharon was to get back on track and fine-tune my regiment.  I was not seeking a complete overhaul … this is what I received.  Bottom line, we have a plan to get me back on track and work on this new development.  I am still hopeful this is just a scare, a wake-up call of sort.  The pathology report will arrive early next week.  I speak into the universe, please let the tumors be benign.  I am determined to use the next 35 days to begin to bring my body into balance, committed to my new regiment, and striving to not be angry.  I am angry, but it is deeper than this one word.  I seek to find peace and grounding quickly.  I feel a bit lost.  Actually, a lot lost. 

My visit was full of unexpected situations.  The next day following my procedure, I awoke to a glorious sunrise after tossing and turning a fair amount during the night.  I traveled to see Sharon for another treatment followed by a cooking class and henna festival.  Karuna taught the class.  During the cooking class, I met Julie; we partnered up and made a delicious date and tamarind chutney and a cake.  After all the teams finished cooking, we enjoyed our meal together.  The food was outstanding.  After the meal, I started talking to a woman named Terri, who attended the cooking class.  We chatted a bit about our lives then I left to pick-up my former mentee Maria.  Maria and I came back to the wellness center for the Henna Festival.  When we arrived, a couple women arms were adorned with their henna tattoos.  The patterns were mystical.  I chose to have a lotus flower and Sharon encouraged me to have the words victory written in symbol language.  Terri and I picked up where we left off and begin to laugh … and sweat like freaks!  I was telling her about my Ayurvedic treatments that were changing including two herbal powders that I would snort.  I pulled out the baggy of my “Ayurvedic Blow” … I was uncertain if I could really sniff a pinch of this powder up my nose.  Terri and I giggle as I tried to recruit her to try it with me.  I felt a little naughty carrying around my baggy of powdered herb.  Embarrassed, we retreated to a separate room and sniffed it up!  We were giggling the whole time.  Walking back into the main area, all eyes were on us.  It was really good stuff!  It is meant to calm your mind and give you clarity.  It worked.  Terri and I had so much fun together; it is so awesome when you meet someone and connect just like old friends.  We surely knew one another in a previous lifetime, for sure! We both may be over 40 but on this day, we were laughing and carrying on like teenage schoolgirls. 

Later in the day, I traveled to see my brother and his family.  It was good times!  From an impromptu cheese party to misreading the pancake recipe with my niece.  In misreading the recipe, we blended 4 cups of sugar into the batter …. Cleary it should have been 4 tablespoons!  It was quite hysterical.  The entire time I kept thinking, this just does not seem right.  Good times for sure.

Arriving home, I was not in a good space at all.  I presented as depressed and awaited the call from pathology.  Tuesday morning, the news came by telephone.  It was good news!  The tumors were benign.  What a relief!  The following seven days after returning from Houston, I was dedicated to following an Ayurvedic punchakarma.  My intention was to follow punchakarma for 35 days.  This did not last beyond the seven days.  Where am I at today?  I am a bit disgruntled and have a fairly poor attitude of I just do not care … forget about it. 

Therefore, I am not in the best emotional space currently.  I am disgruntled for sure.  I mean pre-diagnosis; I was a pescotarian (seafood vegetarian), did not drink soda or alcohol, did not eat greasy foods or fast food, exercised nearly every day, was thin, in shape, and was on the cusp of achieving many lifelong goals/dreams.  Yes, I was under a great deal of stress but overall, I seemed healthy!  After seven devoted days of punchakarma, I decided…screw it!  I will eat whatever the hell I want to eat and drink whatever I want to drink.  The past 10 days I have been sluggish and frustrate easily.  My body aches, I am nauseous, and have headaches.  Clearly, this “forget about it” attitude is not serving me well. This whole cancer thing is growing old.  This waiting and wondering if the cancer will come back again is emotionally debilitating at times.  I know what I could be doing to get myself back on track yet I am choosing not to do everything possible.  The question that is looming is why?  At this moment, I do not have an answer. 

Tomorrow is another day and I am looking forward to an Ayurvedic massage followed by an energy clearing.  Perhaps this will allow me to find clarity. 

Today, I am hopeful.

My dear Shawna...you are missed...

It is the day after Thanksgiving 2012. I learned my friend Shawna passed away today after battling colon cancer over the past year and a half. She was a shining example of how to walk this journey through cancer with grace and selflessness. I knew her time was short when hospice entered her life; yet was caught off guard by how quickly she passed. It was only a few days ago that she was hanging onto life and enjoying each moment with her husband and children. My heart aches. Shawna’s smile was intoxicating; I think she made everyone feel like they were special to her. I am relieved that Shawna is now free of cancer and no longer suffering.

Why then is my sorrow cutting deeply? The answer to my question is quite selfish. Shawna’s passing due to cancer, although cliché’, simply hits to close to home. This disease we call cancer is a cruel beast. I too am reminded of my dear friend Peggy Williams that passed from cancer when I was in my early 20’s; remembering it like it was yesterday. I watched cancer take her away … slowly…she fought and was devoted to endure whatever western medicine had to offer, despite the crushing blows to her physical body. Shawna too battled this beast and has departed this lifetime. I too am reminded of Carrie Deane’s battle with TNBC and her life being cut way to short. Shawna, Peggy, and Carrie’s, passing’s remind me of my diagnosis and the odds I too am facing. It is a reality check. There are many things I could be doing better – nutrition, positivity, and at a soul level. Secondly, my husband has a budding friendship with Shawna’s husband. I now have the opportunity to see how ones passing impacts their spouse and family, the pain, heartache, confusion, sadness, and loneliness. Followed by hope, life, peace, acceptance, and joy. 

As I sit in the corner of the hotel room and gaze at my family and their activities. My husband and two boys joyful play cards while my other son relaxes on the sofa listening to music while surfing the web. I wonder if the scene would look the same if I were no longer here. I catch myself thinking; do not put that into the universe. Yet I wonder. I remind myself of the words I shared with Shawna prior to her passing: your husband and kids will be okay my dear; it is okay to say enough is enough. It is true; my family will be okay in the event of my untimely absence. I turn my thoughts to thankfulness. I am blessed with an amazing husband and children that love me deeply. No one knows when their time on this earth may end. I believe I have been given a gift of a diagnosis that is allowing me to refocus, learn valuable lessons, and grow as a person. By the way, I am going to beat the odds of this diagnosis … you just watch! Yes, I am doing this journey my way, that is understood. 

When I find myself in low spot, I speak my mantra repeatedly. When I am fearful, I repeat my mantra. Countless times, I have fallen asleep as I speak my mantra into the universe.

My mind is strong.

My mind is telling my body to heal itself.

My body is healing itself.

My mind is strong.

My body is healthy.

My soul is at peace.

I am quite sure I will enter slumber repeating these words tonight as I weep. 

Thank you my soul sista’ Shawna, for entering my life and making a difference. I love you my dear. I see your smile when I think of you.

We all have the opportunity to love big, live life, and make a difference. I encourage everyone to reach out to those you love and let them know. Have a generous heart. Be compassionate. Live life without judgment. Live each day as though it were your last.  

Today, I am hopeful~

July 7, 2012: One Year Anniversary

Yesterday marks the one-year anniversary of my Triple Negative Breast Cancer diagnosis. This past year has slipped by quickly, my life changed in unforeseen ways. July 2011: I was finishing my undergraduate schooling, caring for six teenagers- four of them foster youth, living in the Houston, Texas area, had been accepted to the University of Houston’s Graduate School of Social Work, was working on a foster youth pilot program with an offer to take the helm as director… things were final coming together, or so I thought. 

One year ago, my life took an unexpected turn when I received the news that I had breast cancer; this was only the beginning of what was to come. Although devastate, I thought to myself, no problem … I have this cancer, it does not have me. A week later, I received the results of my biopsy and learned the true magnitude of my condition. Triple Negative Breast Cancer (TNBC). My first thought was, awesome … negative surely poses a positive meaning. Um, not so much. I immediately went into research mode; I wanted to learn all that I could about TNBC. Reality settled in; western medicine fails to successfully treat TNBC and to that end, most women lose their lives within 5-years of diagnosis. 

Much of this last year is a blur. I underwent surgery, two rounds of chemotherapy, and quickly called it quits. There was simply no way I was going to continue to poison my entire body when the outcome was less than favorable. I turned to alternative treatments, mainly Ayurveda. I have yet to reflect and reread my blog postings over this past year; following this post, I plan to have the entire blog printed into book form. My mind still does not work the way it used to and many memories seem to be a blur. It is strange actually, but in a good way. For example, I have reconnected with several childhood friends. Many of us have picked-up where we left off, or so it feels as such. Several other childhood acquaintances have reentered my life in pleasantly unexpected ways. It has been an amazing experience, on many differing levels. 

In the weeks leading up to the anniversary of my diagnosis, I have felt a bit out of sorts. Today, I look healthy and I am working part-time. The people around me respond markedly different from a year ago or even five months ago. When I looked sick, society in general treated me with gentleness and kindness. I was the recipient of endless encouraging letters, voicemails, emails, texts, and postings. It felt so comforting to be surrounded by many as I felt the love of nearly all those around me, friends, and foes alike. Today, things are much different. The notes, emails, texts, voicemails, and postings trickle in. Society does not go out of their way to say hello, offer to assist, or open a door.  It is different. I miss being the recipient of unfettered kindness. I used to joke with my friends that it is difficult to be mean to a “cancer person”! 

I believe that we are exposed to situations while on this earth because there are lessons that we must learn. The lesson that presents first upon reflection is be careful what you wish for! Often I have remarked that I wish I had curly hair, it would be fantastic. Well, I am here to warn, be careful what you wish for. I do have curly hair now … after being diagnosed with an aggressive cancer and undergoing two rounds of chemotherapy!  What a way for a wish to come true … ugh. Lessons to be learned, I have learned many lessons since my diagnosis and have grown, as a person far beyond what I thought was possible. Although I may still stumble a bit as I fail to live up to the person I want to be, I am aware of these missteps and am willing to make adjustments. 

Remaining my authentic self despite the environment that surrounds me, this is paramount for my self-development. I am keen on the truth, understanding that the truth of one may not necessarily be the truth for all. We each experience life through amazingly different filters; it therefor makes sense that ones’ sense of reality may differ greatly from one’s counterpart. I am reminded of this often, especially in the arena I work within. I recently shared my ideology with a concerned parent. It is imperative that we listen to the words being spoken by others. It is not necessarily a matter of what is true or not true, what is important is to understand how an individual sees and experiences the world around them, how a particular situation made them feel. It is wise to understand how others experience life. It is at this juncture that we may begin to offer empathy and get at the causation of the thought patterns of others. In other words, meet people where they are at and begin walking alongside them; this is where understanding and compassion begins. 

Truth has always been big on my list. I would rather hear the truth than for someone to tell me what he or she believes I want to hear. This notion took my physicians by surprise following my diagnosis. I really did want to hear the truth, as grim as it was it was important for me to know what I was working with. The same is true in my life. I do not much fancy dishonesty but do understand differing perspectives and filters. I choose to surround myself with people that are honest and trustworthy. At times, truth may be challenging to reveal, nonetheless, it usually will reveal itself whether you want it to come out or not.  Truth; the truth about my diagnosis is that most women die within five years of diagnosis whether they undergo western medical interventions or do nothing. Well, this is not good news at all. I had the opportunity to meet a courageous young woman, Carrie D., who was diagnosed with TNBC one week after I was. Carrie D. followed the treatment recommendations of her physicians and after nine months of battling TNBC, she lost her life. This was a tragic loss. Truth, her death unsettled me as it was another woman who will be added to the statistic of lives lost within five years of diagnosis. I do not want to be a part of this statistic; it is hard to fathom not being here on earth in the next four years. Very humbling for sure. 

Reflections: My memories are not in tact; for example, I do not clearly remember driving from Texas to Oregon in October and I was driving! I sometimes do not remember when I last talked with my friends. When I do have a memory, it seems to be a random one that catches me off guard. I do a great deal of living in the moment, for sometimes that is all I have. I live authentically which allows me to connect with those around me and offer guidance when asked or required. I become frustrated at times, because I do not remember … this is my dirty little secret that now everyone will know. I love when I hear or read about the fond memories people have of me, especially childhood memories. I am often brought to joyful tears. Although I may not recall the particulars, I can say … Yep, that sounds like something I would have done or said. 

Life today is much different and chronically unknown from a year ago.  A year ago, I felt as though I was on the cusp of great things and there has been a loss for sure. What I have today is an even grander understanding of myself, which is allowing me to be a better servant to those around me. I have walked and am walking an unknown journey; I believe I am doing this with authenticity. My accumulative life experiences are allowing me to make a difference in the lives of the populations I serve and those around me. This comes full-circle and reflects back onto me, this is where I feel love and support. Do I fear the future, sometimes. However, more often, I look forward to the beauty that surrounds me; I have more work to do.

My mind is strong.

My mind is telling my body to heal itself.

My body is healing itself.

My mind is strong.

My body is healthy.

My soul is at peace.

Today I am hopeful~

Reality Check ...

After a month long break from my Ayurvedic Guggulu’s I am pleased to be back on my regiment.  After returning from Texas with an outstanding health report, I discontinued several of my supplements for a 30-day period to let my body system rest and gain some footing.  I must admit that I felt a bit out of sorts … well, a lot out of sorts!  I have been eating everything that I should not be eating – I know that food is my medicine and that I am either feeding the cancer or fighting it.  Admittedly, I have been feeding it.  Tomorrow is a new day and I am committed to getting my eating where it needs to be.  The good news is that I have enjoyed every bite of food being put into my body: the good and bad alike.  I have now been back on my treatment regiment for two weeks and I am beginning to feel increasingly balanced.  I will most likely get my blood work done this week to check my tumor markers and a whole host of other counts that I monitor.  On another front: Auntie Flow invited herself for an extended stay this month, 14 days to be exact!  Way to long and entirely too intense.  After some much-needed guidance from my Ayurvedic practitioner and treatment from my Acupuncturist, I do believe my houseguest has departed until next month.

Several nights ago, I learned that a friend of a friend carries the same breast cancer diagnosis as I do and was diagnosed around the same time I was – July 2011.  As my friend shared this information with me, she revealed that this woman is now stricken with a secondary cancer, brain cancer.  When I heard these words, my heart sank.  Nodding my head up and down, I said, yep – this is typically cancers next stopping place for those diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer, TNBC.  I left my friends home and as I made the short drive to my house, I began to weep.  I exclaimed aloud, God please do not let this happen to me..

Most women lose their lives within five years of being diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer.  If the cancer migrates and takes up residency somewhere else, as I like to say, it is typically in the brain. The reality of the seriousness of my diagnosis flooded my senses and lingered in my thoughts.  A couple nights later, after awaking around 2:00 am, I lay in bed thinking about the woman that has TNBC and now brain cancer.  I began weeping, not only for her, but for me as well.  I was scared; I do not want this to be my outcome.  I scooted my pillows closer to Curtis in bed and reached for his hand to hold; this always quiets my thoughts and brings me peace.  As I wept, I felt his arm gently wrap around me to comfort my worries.  This all happened the evening prior to my Shoot’n for Christina benefit event.  Needless to say, it was a restless night.  Crying person status … on. 

It is not often that my mind goes to place of fear, but it does happen.  I believe it would be strange if my thoughts did not carry me there at times.  I do however, choose to not park in this zone for an extended amount of time as I choose to remain hopeful and optimistic. 

Today, I am hopeful~

Shoot'n for Christina Benefit Event

 Please join my benefit event, Shoot’n for Christina, Saturday, March 17, 2012.  The event is being held at Corvallis High School and begins at 10:00 am.  A sincere thank you to Jenny Smith for her tireless efforts and commitment to insuring this event is a successful one!

We will see you at the event; registration is available at the door

Event Sponsors:

Albany Acupuncture Clinic

Mandi Schwendiman

http://albanyacupunctureclinic.com/ 

Healing Scapes 

Yoga, Ayurveda, and Plant Medicine

Kate Hirst

http://www.healingscapes.net/ 

Willamette-Valley Massage Works

Jennifer Christy

http://www.wvmassage.biz/ 

Event Donors:

CHS Basketball Program

Human Bean, Paula Reab

LB Designs, Leslie Brittell

Midnight Oil Farm, Colette Kemper

Pampered Chef, Lee Anne Krause

Papa's Pizza Corvallis

Springhill Country Club

Many thanks in advance for supporting our benefit event!  

Today, I am hopeful~

  

The Corvallis Advocate

I met a friend for coffee at Market of Choice today; as I waited I noticed a stack of The Corvallis Advocate nestled on the hearth next to the grand fireplace.  I flipped through the publication and there it was ... my article!  Please click on the provided link to read the article and leave public comments as well.  Enjoy~

The Corvallis Advocate
Houston; We Had a Problem

The Results are in...

“I’m home,” I exclaimed as I leapt through the door of the Houston Yoga & Ayurvedic Wellness Center in Cypress, Texas. I was then met with a loving embrace from Sharon Kapp, my Ayurvedic practitioner. My check-up went well confirming my alternative treatments continue to be highly effective, my body is coming into balance and healing itself. The daily rituals I undertake are many with an emphasis on nutrition and supplements coupled with proper self-care. Each day my energy increases and mental clarity is returning.  Prior to departing for Texas, I underwent a battery of blood tests to check tumor markers, vitamin levels, white and red cell counts, and more.  I was most interested to learn my vitamin D levels. Ideally, they will measure 70-90; in Texas, they measured 22, and after my return to Oregon, they plummeted further to only 17. However, my latest tests revealed at measurement of 58! This is a HUGE success; 20 more points and I will be sitting pretty. Research indicates that individuals with low Vitamin D levels become highly susceptible to cancers; this is particularly true with triple negative breast cancer, TNBC. The second blood panel results I monitor are multiple tumor makers: CEA, 15.3, CA125, CA27.29. Fantastic news, all tumor markers remain within normal range. In short, the cancer cells are under control and contained. I am beating the odds, despite the less than favorable five-year prognosis this diagnosis carries. I am thrilled! My daily regiment is involved, yet it has become a welcome routine.

Choosing to forgo continued participation in society’s conditioned response to cancer, poison, cut, burn, at times is challenging.  The most marked shift is the response of those around me. When I looked ill, I was met with far-reaching compassion, understanding, caring attitudes, and responses from those around me. Now that I no longer look ill, many assume that everything is status quo. The truth is that yes, I am doing quite well right now however; I must continue to be vigilant with my treatment. If I become complacent, I may decline rapidly; my diagnosis is significant and serious. I appreciate friends and family who understand that in order to continue to beat the odds and remain healthy, I need their support, love, and understanding. I too understand that the casual observer witnesses a healthy, vibrant young woman, when interacting with me.  As a society, if an individual fails to present with an obvious ailment, we tend to make rash judgments; my hope is that our level of understanding will broaden while judgment diminishes.  

While in Texas, I was able to connect with my former chemo-buddy Angela; she has completed chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation. She is doing fantastic, building her strength, and looks healthy.  We share a bond and an understanding; it is comforting to engage in conversation about tumor marker counts, physical changes, and our mental clarity progress. Equally, we spoke of our hair growing back, which is good and bad! Hair on your head, good. Hair everywhere else, not so good. Holy hair a sprout’n! Gift ideas for your post chemotherapy friends … gift certificate for hair coloring and in first place, body waxing! Enough said.

My sons are growing up~ I connected with three of my sons and met my new grandbaby Harmony. She is a doll-baby! Although my son is a teenage father, I was impressed by the way; he interacted and attended to his daughter; incredibly proud of him. My older son successfully transferred to Sam Houston University and is doing well. My other son is attending community college and struggling a bit. It was priceless listening to his two brothers directing him on what he needs to do to come correct. It was a beautiful moment! 

I final was able to celebrate graduating from college with my Bachelor of Science in Human Services from Springfield College in Springfield, MA; with a 3.88GPA - noted in frosting on the cake!  I actually graduated from the program in August 2011 and was to begin my graduate studies in Social Work at the University of Houston, when I was diagnosed with TNBC.  The celebration was fantastical and long overdue!

Recently, Jenny Smith and I have been working feverishly to organize and plan the benefit event, Shoot’n for Christina. We are excited to kick-off the event. It is a 3-Point Contest held at Corvallis High School on March 17, 2012 @ 10:00am. Proceeds will benefit the Corvallis High School basketball program and Christina’s Real Talk – breast cancer fund. We are hopeful attendance and participation will be good! Please join us.  Christina’s Real Talk T-Shirts have arrived; they look great! They are available for purchase online by clicking the link on my website.

 

Today, I am hopeful~

Check-up time and a new oncologist...

It is time to travel back to Texas to meet with my Ayurvedic practitioner, Sharon Kapp at www.houston-yoga-ayurveda.com.  It has been 90 days since relocating from Texas, back to Oregon; travel arrangements are nearly finalized for a quick trip to Houston.  I am filled with excitement to visit with Sharon, learn how I am progressing, and consider treatment adjustments.  While in Texas, I hope to connect with sons, I miss them terribly! 

Updates:

At the urging of my PA (physician assistant) Jodee Rundall, I agreed to meet with a new oncologist, though I continued to question why in the world I agreed to walk into yet another doctor’s office.  Nevertheless, I thought I would have a couple months to get used to the idea until I received a call from Dr. Kenyon’s (oncologist) office to schedule my appointment less than a week later!  I was so resistant to seeing an oncologist, especially one that resides in the same office as Dr. McGregor, the oncologist that spoke to me in an incredible distasteful and mocking tone during a telephone call in December.  Nonetheless, I reminded myself that nothing happens by accident and there is a reason I am meeting with this doctor, I simply did not have clarity as to why.  Armed with a positive attitude, I met my new oncologist.  The appointment was outstanding!  The doctor and his nurse practitioner were very respectful of my choices, agreed to monitor my blood work, schedule ultrasound mammograms, along with providing guidance as needed.  Additionally, Dr. Kenyon has added an additional tumor marker test that will assist in monitoring the success of my treatment.  I plan to repeat my blood work next week and am hopeful my tumor markers will remain within normal range.

On Thursday I began another six-day liver/gallbladder cleanse.  Staying close to the bathroom was necessary in the beginning however, things seem to have stabilized.  I am bracing myself for day six, and then the real movement fun begins!  In the not too distant future, I plan to outline in detail my treatment strategies, how they work, and why I have chosen each treatment.

The peaks and valleys of this journey remain plentiful.  At moments it is challenging to stay in the positive zone; not allowing my mind to wonder into the “what if” zone.  Living in the present and not overthinking or worrying about the future brings me peace.  Admittedly, the reality of my health status, at times, causes me to stumble; it is unsettling.  For now, I seek to live while I am alive.  

Live big.  

Love freely.  

Laugh often.

Today, I am hopeful~

Knock, knock; guess who?

.

On Monday, I was leaving an appointment with Jennifer Christy, my massage angel, driving home when I began experiencing a bathroom emergency.  I thought to myself, why did I fail to ask Jennifer if I could use her bathroom, I mean I had already downed two large cups of tea.  It is not as though I was in a rush as I was busy cleaning the seat of my pants after noticing it was adorned with spots of brown around my body’s evacuation site.  I apparently sat in something of the brown persuasion. Good grief!  Back to the story, as I refocus … I barely made it to a public bathroom before urinating all over myself.  Relief at last, followed by the discovery of a long forgotten visitor … Auntie Flow!  Holy wow, I know.  This is simply too good to be true!  I did it; I reversed menopause and am back on track; my body is finding balance and normalcy. No more menopause, no more night sweats no more hot flashes!  This is welcome news and comes on the heels of retiring my church-lady fan from my purse a couple short weeks ago.  Awe, the little things culminate into something glorious and life altering!  Nice to see you again Auntie Flow~   

Earlier in the week, I had the opportunity to connect with a new friend, Shawna Troncale; she too seeks to find balance.  In May of 2011, she was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer; she is 35 years of age and has three children under the age of 11.  Shawna keeps a blog as well www.lovingonshawna.com.  Being so young and facing a serious diagnosis, as we both are, leaves you feeling alone sometimes.  How refreshing it is, to connect with another woman who is traveling the same journey as I.  She understands firsthand the range of emotions I feel and is living similar experiences.  I expressed to her that we are in this together!  Shawna is a strong and inspirational individual; please send good thoughts and prayers her direction as she seeks to find peace with her diagnosis and treatment options that will serve her best.  

One of the most beautiful gifts you can give an individual facing a serious health diagnosis is to support them in every decision they make to save their life, without judgment or commentary.  No one wants to live more than the directly impacted person does!  Daily, I make an effort to not take on the identity of my diagnosis.  My diagnosis is not who I am as a person; it does not define me.  I will not make cancer the center of my identity; it is simply a life experience.  Nor do I fancy the term “cancer survivor”; to me it puts cancer at the center of one’s life; it is as though a microphone and spotlight blanket the cancer diagnosis.  It is critical for me to live by my belief especially when there is uncertainty brewing in my mind.  

Last week, I awoke in the early morning hours and was not feeling well, I felt as though I was having a panic attack of sorts and my stomach was not well.  I believe this to be a physical manifestation of what was going on in my head.  What I quickly realized is that I need to remind myself that I am safe, I am loved, and I am at peace. This has become my daily mantra I repeat multiple times throughout the day, especially as I am drifting into sweet slumber.  Living in the present is huge and keeps me grounded.  Trust – I must trust that I am making the right choices and decisions for my body, mind, and soul.  Love – I must love myself just as I am.  This is all a part of embracing and holding close to – Strength, Hope, Courage.

Today, I am hopeful~

I figured it out and it begins with…

Tis time "for giving" back the pain to the circumstances where it was created, reframe, let the wounds heal and "for getting" back your power to express your authentic, love-created self. BE YOU...you are the only one who may. What a wonderful you, you are! (Borrowed FB posting)

After reading the above words in a Face Book posting, I put pen to paper and began processing residual childhood hurt weighing heavy on my heart for far too many years.  As I authored a letter to my parents, I quickly realized this was not a letter for them it was for me.  Clarity swiftly and unexpectedly arrived as I wrote the following words.

…I too felt that in these moments you considered what life would be like if Amy was living or if the two of us could change places.  I felt, as though I was less than and there was nothing I could do that would ever be good enough.  For the first time in my life, at this very moment, I realize that I have been living in the shadows of a sister I never knew who lived on this earth for only a short moment in time.  The idea of her life; how it [life] may have manifested itself if she were living.  I felt, as though I was a constant reminder of the baby girl that was lost and for this reason, I was now an outsider.

I felt as though:

1. I was a reminder of a child that was lost

2. I was resented

3. I was an outsider

4. I was not liked or loved

5. I was less than

6. I was never going to be good enough

7. I was not worthy

“Amy was so special that God called her back home to be with him” (parents stated). I thought, if this was the case, where did this leave me, was I not special.  I was surely being punished!  

This was one of the biggest reflective realizations of my life; it may have taken many years but at last, I understood.  I was very young when my sister passed away; I believe I was around six or seven years of age.  The words my parents used to explain her passing were meant to comfort however; my filter received the message much different, especially because I was the only living girl in the family.  For all these years, I never really understood why I never felt good enough and my self-confidence lacked sorely.  How could I possibly believe I was a special girl if special girls go to live with God?  Understanding what cultivated my pain has allowed me to release the hurt and let go of these wounds after many years.  Last evening I felt lighter and free.

Many years ago, I acknowledged that my parenting ideology differs from theirs [parents].  There is always a reason behind ones’ behavior – people do well if they can – it was a challenging time for my parents in the early days.  I have long taken issue with, what I see as my parents overuse and misguided use of corporal punishment; it makes me physically ill, to this day, to hear a child being spanked.  I firmly believe that if they had to do it all over again, they would make different choices however; spanking would remain present yet more appropriate.  Equally, I do not much fancy avoidance; acting as though there is not an issue when clearly there is an issue needing attention.  This works for some individuals, not for me.  It is what it is.  The end.  

Today, after many years of estrangement, I visited my parents.  We had a lovely exchange of pleasantries; I did not feel as though I was less then or not worthy.  I was confident and secure.  I had to chuckle, prior to my departure,  my mother hastened my boys over to her Christmas tree to point out a photo ornament that I do not much fancy of me as a child.   With a giggle, I turned to my father and remarked that it is good to know that some things never change; at least she [mother] is consistent. I then thought to myself that each relationship is unique and different and this is okay.

  

Living in the present, is a beautiful gift I have given to myself.  It allows me to see today, in large part unfettered by the past or the future.  It is time to resolve, dissolve, and let go of childhood hurt.  January 1, 2012 was the day that this happened for me.  Since my cancer diagnosis, July 7, 2011, I embarked on a journey of self-discovery and have made peace and found clarity in abundance.  I feel lighter now.  My breath flows easier.  I am at peace.  

                                                    Grandma LeGall

As a child, my closest relationship was with my Grandma and Grandpa LeGall; they understood me and loved me where I was at, no matter what.  I visited my Grandma LeGall today; she resides in an Alzheimer’s assisted living facility.  I am thankful that she remembers me, even with my post chemotherapy hair, or lack thereof.  I am thankful that she is always in a delightful mood when I see her; her smile is magical.  When I am close to her, I feel her love and somehow feel the love of my grandfather, whom has passed, when in her presence.  She was excited to learn that I have relocated back to Oregon and we will be able to spend time together on a regular basis.  She gently asked me why my hair was so short and I told her that I have breast cancer and lost my hair after going through chemotherapy.  She looked into my eyes and smiled deeply at me.  In that moment, her eyes did the talking and I received her message.  We embraced as I departed; I whispered in her ear “I love you”, she whispered back “I love you”.  Her embrace comforted me; there is nothing better than a hug from grandma! 

Today, I am hopeful~  

Oh Holy Night Sweats …

Night sweats vs. hot flashes … and the winner is … night sweats!  Many thanks to the two sessions of chemotherapy as it has thrust me into early onset of menopause.  Delightful, chemotherapy is the gift that keeps on giving.  Previously I set the intention that I would “bring my cycle back on-line” and this would signal my body is coming back into balance; the added benefit, no more hot flashes or night sweats.  I have reevaluated this intention and have dismissed it as a foolish benchmark of balance.  Besides, do I really want to begin the process of menopause over a second time?  I think not!  For now, I dress in layers, carry a fan in my purse, and proudly announce when a hot flash is making its way on scene.  I will embrace each hot flash happily with the understanding that I must love my body, just as it is. 

I am still processing a conversation that took place during a women’s Christmas brunch.  The brunch was delightful and laughter filled.  During the gift exchange, the women began to speaking of a dear friend that recently passed-away from cancer, I did not know her.  The stories of her touched me deeply; she was a young woman in her 30’s with three children under nine years of age.  The stories recounted included the deep love shared between husband and wife, the joy felt each time the mother looked into her children’s eyes, and the meaningful imprint made in the lives of those around her.  The shared stories of this young mother were touching and inspiring; as these women spoke, tears filled my eyes.  Although I desired to share in their stories, the urge to get-up and run into another room, fall to my knees, and weep was marked.  Questions, thoughts, and feelings overwhelmed my soul.  I questioned, when it is my time to leave this earth, how will people speak of me? Have I made a positive imprint on the lives of those around me so much so that they will recount touching and loving memories of their time with me?  This experience was deeply touching and thought provoking; the seriousness of my reality flooded my mind.  Did these women forget that I am living with a serious cancer diagnosis?  I paused to remind myself that the collective conscious is that I am healthy and this is an outstanding phenomenon.  As the conversation progressed, I could feel myself settling in as though I was watching from afar as a virtual observer.  This conversation was the beginning of an emotionally charged and trying couple of days.

After meeting with my local Ayurvedic practitioner, I felt uneasy and I began to explore why I felt this way; this feeling set-in for two days.  It seemed as though I was walking a tightrope and I knew it would not take much to knock me off balance.  I lost my balance after receiving a return telephone call from my local oncologist.  It has been approximately seven weeks since my last blood work panel and I contacted her office inquiring if they would order the blood panel, as we previously discussed.  I was not pleased to learn that she [oncologist] was refusing to order blood work earlier than every 12 weeks.  What I was not prepared for was the distasteful tone as the telephone call progressed.  I expressed to the doctor that if I were currently receiving chemotherapy then I would have a complete blood panel conducted every three weeks.  Although I am not receiving chemotherapy, I am in the middle of working to bring my body back into balance in an effort to eradicate cancer from my body.  The doctor smugly expressed many thoughts including if your alternative person wants your blood work so bad then they can order it and the standard of care when monitoring cancer is to order blood work every three months.  I gently reminded her that my Ayurvedic practitioner does not have the ability to order blood work and it was not for them, it was for me; noting it would be irresponsible of me not to monitor my blood work.  I next remarked that there is no established standard of care when a patient chooses alternative instead of western medicine.  The more she spoke the more I realized that this doctor was not only mocking me but had become a bully.  Is that what western medical healthcare professionals do when a patient chooses to be in the driver’s seat of their own health care?  In the nearly five months since my diagnosis, I have never encountered such a hostile, uncompassionate, aggressive, and distasteful individual until now.  Distressed and taken back by her behavior and attitude; I simply ended the telephone call.  I was completely blindsided by this bump in the road; I became emotional and tried to grasp why another person would treat someone as she did.  Did she even realize or care that I had become unsettled?  Does she not understand that I am somewhat alone in my quest to find balance?  I was not in a good space emotionally.  I was not questioning my treatment choices that one is an easy choice– do I want to continue to poison my body or balance it? Balance!  I was however, feeling alone, fragile, and deceived.

When the oncologist and I first met, we discussed the totality of my alternative treatments and the timeline for my blood work; she agreed and never voiced an objection.  Perhaps her practice had a policy change or her professional ideology shifted; this remains a mystery.  I certainly would have understood if she was unable to order blood work on the time-line I requested, if it was outside the scope of that which she is permitted.  I would have been disappointed; nevertheless, there was undoubtedly a better way for her to conduct her interaction.   I thought the oncologist was on my team; she respected my choices, and was willing to assist where she could.  I do not much fancy being deceived, just be honest from the beginning.   Perhaps the oncologist could have offered some suggestions as opposed to engaging in mocking expressions and bullying. When I ended the telephone call I was confused, angered, and in distress.  Maybe she was having a challenging day.  I plan to send her a note to express how her words and tone affected me and potentially sparing the next patient, deciding to take the road less traveled, her wrath.

I firmly believe that where the mind goes, the body follows.  My mind was lost, weak, and fragile; my body joined my mind later that evening.  I awoke weeping, at 2:00AM; I whispered to Curtis that I did not feel well.  As I wept, I remarked that this is messed up; I just need my blood work so that I can make sure that I remain on track.  I added that no one really understands how alone I feel, at times, in this journey through breast cancer.  My darling Curtis knew exactly the words to comfort my mind and bring me peace.  In short, he noted that my whole life I have been an advocate for those in need or the underdog.  I have been preparing for this journey through breast cancer my whole life.  He expressed, that I know how to advocate, how to stand alone with confidence and conviction in the most challenging circumstances.  True, it may be lonely at times but this is what I do and I do it well.  Poignant words that I must remind myself of more often these days.  Sharon Kapp too reminded me that I must trust myself.  I am grateful for her generosity, kindness, and what I call – the “Zen Factor” of who she is

After an emotional couple of days, I am back on track and no longer feel as though I am walking a tightrope.  My feet find themselves firmly planted on the ground and I feel at peace.  I am fortunate that I am surrounded by individuals who love me, respect my choices, and support my family.  The generosity of others is vast and unending.  Things have a way of working themselves out~ 

Today, I am hopeful.

Peace, Clarity, Answers ...

My mind has been filled with many thoughts over the past several weeks; organizing them remains a challenge.  As I write I am plagued with considerable menopausal hot flashes, oh how enchanting at 40 years of age … lucky girl.  The after effects of chemotherapy – the gift that keeps on giving.  It is hard to believe it has only been four short months since being diagnosed with TNBC.  I would like to find peace, clarity, and answers to questions and situations that weigh heavy on my mind as of late.  Last evening, I stared off into a grand black and white scenic print of the Eiffel Tower hanging on my bedroom wall.  My husband noticed tears falling from my eyes; he gently began stroking my head that resembles a blossoming chia pet.  Sensing that I was somewhat lost, he offered comforting words as I expressed my fears, hurt, deep sadness, and doubt.  Is all this worth it?  Is it even working?  Do you realize this will always be looming in the shadows?  I am only 40 years old and facing the idea of death; I have written about this many times prior, yet it still looms from time to time.  It is strange; the feeling unsettling. 

I must seek answers to my own questions – Is this worth it?  When I say this, I am referring to treatment of TNBC whether it is western or alternative modalities.  Clearly for me, chemotherapy was not worth it.  Chemotherapy was slowly killing not only cancer cells but healthy cells while depleting my senses and entire body system.  Fact, chemotherapy prematurely thrust me into menopause at 40 years of age.  I am hopeful this will conclude the collateral damage.  Fact, yes this is worth it, I am alive!

Is this even working?  Fact, yes what I am doing is working and I have the empirical evidence to support this finding.  Since moving back to Oregon my heart rate has dropped from a whopping 97 – 103 (bpm) to 62 – 79 (bpm) and my blood pressure dropped from 138 to 103.  For the most part, my blood work looks good.  Tumor markers remain in normal range and white cell, red cell, and platelets counts are nearing normal range.  This is all positive news.  There continues to be areas of concern that I am working on, for example my liver function tests were elevated and my hormone levels indicative of menopause that is here to stay.  The SmartPort removal was a relief and psychologically supports my decision to stop chemotherapy treatments.  I was able to decline anti-nausea and pain medication following the port removal surgery.  This is a good sign that what I am doing is working.  My body is becoming healthy. 

Do you realize this [cancer] will always be looming in the shadows?  I do not have the answer for this one as of yet.  Why?  The answer is quite simplistic.  I do not want TNBC to be looming in the shadows of my life therefore I do not want to give it undo attention and focus.  I make every effort to live in the present; not the past nor the future.  I want to enjoy today.  I do not choose to worry about what if scenarios – this would surely reduce my life span significantly.  I am aware of the statistical data and the endless array of what if scenarios; I am not in denial of my diagnosis.  Triple negative breast cancer is not who I am nor does it define me; I am most certainly not going to place TNBC at the center of my world.  Why would I choose to give this enormous power to cancer … no way!  

There are many questions from friends about my current treatment modalities, most notably, Ayurveda.  Recently, a dear friend, tears welling in her eyes, said that she wished science supported Ayurveda as a treatment for cancer.  My response – I am not looking for cure to cancer, I am seeking to balance my body.  If my body has the ability to heal itself, it will.  In order to create the most conducive healing environment, I must build my immune system and bring my body into balance.  Another question is, are you still doing all your alternative stuff?  It seems that since I no longer am undergoing chemotherapy that many people think that everything is great with my health, I can go get a job, and resume living my life as though nothing happened.  I giggle a bit, inside myself, when I hear this one.  The answer is heck yes I continue with my alternative modalities!  My body did not get out of balance overnight and it surely will not self-correct overnight either.  This is a lengthy process, not a quick fix.  Sadly I am unable to participate in all the modalities I need on a regular basis as we cannot afford them – insurance does not cover any of these practices with the exception of acupuncture.  As far as seeking employment, I would LOVE to work!  However, my full-time job right now is to get healthy.  Therefore, work must wait.

Finally, there is the idea of collective consciousness.  I have numerous individuals who believe that I will conquer this diagnosis and will live to grow old.  I have several individuals who believe I have already beaten the odds.  Then there is my sweet teenage girl that I mentored in Texas who has professed not once but twice on FaceBook that I am cured!  You know, I am going with her declaration because it sounds perfect to me.  When the collective conscious is that I am healthy and cancer free, it has the ability to make this a reality.  Living in the present.  Believing and imagining healing and good health. 

Today, I am hopeful~