And they thought it wasn’t possible

“They” thought it wasn’t possible or at least it was highly unlikely.  I recently got home from my ten-year bone cancer scans and I remain cancer-free!  Okay, no one has ever said that, they say “no evidence of disease,” but I’ll take it.  And although my surgeon told me at the end of the appointment that he would see me in a year (as he has every year recently, before it was much more frequent), his after-visit summary posted online said so much more.  More on that a little later.

My bone cancer was a very rare and very aggressive sarcoma and the prognosis was not favorable.  You can find all the details in earlier blog posts.  So, each year that passed without a recurrence was both wonderful and remarkable.  Every visit to my surgeon for monitoring scans caused so much stress and anxiety and I often wondered how many years follow-up was necessary and responsible.  After about seven years, when I would ask my surgeon at each appointment (I suppose I was hoping the answer might someday change), he would respond that I had good insurance, so why not?  I would think “Why not?  Because each and every time I have to visit with you my PTSD kicks in with full force.”  I discussed this topic many times with my counselor.  He would always say I would know when/if the time was right to stop these appointments.  My intuition would let me know.  My intuition and I are not on as good terms as I would like.  I spent the first many years of my life living completely in my left brain.  There was no room for “feelings” and especially no room for listening to them if I had them.  Heading into each appointment I would pray that if I was to determine I was followed long enough I would be given some sort of confirmation.  Let me clarify something here.  I was not trying to stop monitoring my cancer status one second before I responsibly should, but I also didn’t want to keep putting myself through this solely out of fear.  So, I asked again this visit and his response was “why, do YOU want to stop monitoring this because it IS always your call, but your insurance will cover it?”  That may sound like a benign response, but my surgeon (in my opinion), although brilliant in the operating room, is very passive aggressive in person.  I’ve heard people refer to it (in relation to him) as “a God complex.”  That comment was very much said as if he did not recommend it, but if I wanted to override his recommendation he couldn’t stop me.  I made another appointment for next year on my way out.

This is why I was so surprised and excited when I read his after-visit summary.  He would never say anything the least bit encouraging during an appointment and was even more careful to not put anything remotely encouraging in writing.  But there it was.  Under the heading of “Plan” it said “At this point, it has been 10 years.  Chance of recurrence is very low, but not 0.  Her options are to follow-up as needed or we see the patient back here for routine oncology surveillance follow-up in 12 months with appropriate imaging studies as ordered.”  No doctor can ever tell anyone their chance of cancer is zero, but for him to put in writing that my chance of recurrence is very low and to offer the option of following up as needed going forward felt like exactly what I had been asking both my intuition and God for.  So, I canceled my 11-year follow-up appointment.  I won’t hesitate to schedule an appointment, if there is any question about something, but I really feel that was the confirmation I was requesting.

My Undifferentiated Pleomorphic Sarcoma bone cancer was so aggressive it doubled in size between the initial find and final diagnosis three months later.  Many of my other doctors have expressed their opinion that if any of this cancer was still remaining in my body it would have shown itself by now, but my surgeon never said anything like this even when I would ask him point blank.  So, his note spoke volumes to me.  I am reminded of my initial prognosis all those years ago and the bleak odds even though I did surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation.  There was no one in the medical field that I spoke with who really thought I’d be here ten years later.  But my family and I decided to take it one day at a time and never give up hope.  To my doctors I say thank you, to my family and friends I say thank you, but most importantly to God I say thank you.  I do not have my head in the sand, I am well aware there are no guarantees in life.  I will continue my ongoing scans/appointments for my more recent breast cancer diagnosis, but for now I am going to live each day choosing to believe I am healthy (even on the days my fear creeps back in).  When I reflect on my initial prognosis and if any other health concerns arise in my future, I will try to never forget something I have attempted to remember every step of my journey (some times more successfully than others).  People may count you out in this life, BUT GOD…

 

Counseling Rocks!!!

I don’t know about you, but I wasn’t raised in a family that encouraged counseling.  We were taught to be strong and self-sufficient.  Fear and failure were signs of weakness.  And most of all, we should take our struggles to God, not man. Now taking your struggles to God is a wonderful idea, but people sometimes also need trained counselors to deal with their issues (at least I do).  It took many years to arrive at this realization, but I am so glad arrive I did. The last three years have been a wonderful, painful, emotionally bare, learning time that I am so grateful for.  But all good things must come to an end.  My perfect counselor (perfect for me) retired at the end of April.  I didn’t see that coming.  I think I needed counseling to deal with the loss of my counselor, but alas, my counselor was retiring.  Now what do I do?

After many tears with both my counselor and husband, my husband uttered these wonderful words…

This chapter is ending, but the next chapter is only a page away.  You only have to turn the page.

So, turn the page I will.  Part of that page turning involves looking back on the many lessons I have learned during those years.  One of those lessons was the importance of listening to that still, small, God-given voice deep down inside.  My upbringing valued left brain, logical, fact-based decision making.  My career in finance and project management reinforced those values.  But when life deals you those unexpected, “never thought it would happen to me” cards, cards that can’t be reasoned or “logic’d” out, you have to open yourself to something more.  Without that possibility, life feels unmanageable.  So, I try to listen more.  I try to “feel” more.  I try to step out of that “only left brained” mentality and consider other possibilities. I try to live in the moment, instead of the past and future (this is still a major work in progress).  All of this is new to me, but I believe it is critically important for my well-being.

Another important lesson has to do with loving my inner child.  We all have past hurts that impact our decisions and reactions to this day. Hurts that may cause us to treat ourselves and others in a way that is less than ideal.  Hurts that have led us to some unhealthy coping mechanisms that have carried into our adult lives.  Our adult self needs to love that small child, thank them for all they did to get us to this point, and assure them that you can take it from here.  We are much better equipped to handle the situations we find ourselves in than that young, wounded child anyway.  Identifying this is the first step in healing that inner child in all of us.

I was recently reading the “Best Self Newsletter” and I came across this statement by Kristen Noel which says it better than I could…

Your Inner Child may have learned coping mechanisms that saved your life as a child, but those coping behaviors don’t have to rule your life as an adult.  Grace is found in moments of silence when you take the hand of your fearful inner child and you whisper, ‘Thank you. You’ve done an awesome job getting me here. I honor the bumps in the road that you have endured, but I’ve got this now. You needn’t be fearful anymore.’

Those are only two lessons I take away from the last three years of counseling.  There are far too many to count, but I can tell you that I am forever changed. So, if you need someone to talk to, go find a counselor that is your perfect fit.  Interview a bunch, if you need to (I kissed a few frogs before I found my Prince Charming).  Don’t settle for just anyone.  This relationship may be one of the most important relationships you will ever have.  You didn’t marry the first guy you ever dated, did you (maybe you did and you’re blissfully happy, but you get where I’m coming from)?  And I leave you with one more quote.  This time from my all-time favorite musical, “Wicked.”  It is for you, Mark, if you are reading this…

I’ve heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn.  And we are led to those who help us most to grow, if we let them.  And we help them in return.  Well, I don’t know if I believe that’s true, but I know I’m who I am today because I knew you.  I do believe I have been changed for the better.  Because I knew you… because I knew you… I have been changed for good.

 

Health is a balancing act

I used to think of health as how my body felt physically.  If I didn’t have the sniffles, a headache, joint pain, or (God forbid) a chronic disease, I was healthy.  These last few years have taught me that health is so much more than that.  True health is comprised of many different factors.  The other day I was listening to a TED talk by Dr. Lissa Rankin, where she was discussing something called “The Whole Health Cairn Model.”  She explained that to be truly healthy numerous areas of your life must be in balance and that your physical health was like the top rock in a rock cairn.  If those other areas are not shored up, your health could not rest securely in its place.

So, what are those areas?  It begins with your inner pilot light.  That still, small voice in the deepest part of your being.  Some call it your gut or intuition.  If you aren’t taking the time to be still and listen to what your intuition knows better than your thinking brain ever could, you are missing the foundation of true health.  In a world of constant noise, rushing, and data overload it is tough to find that time to be still, but if you don’t make that time you will miss out on all that your life can be.  Then there are the many other areas that make up your life: relationships, work/life purpose, spirituality, creativity, sexuality, environment, money, and mental health.  All of those areas contribute to the state of your physical health.  If any of them are out of balance (and who doesn’t have one or more of them out of balance at any given time?), your physical health is at risk. That really got me thinking about my ongoing quest for what I think of as good health.  I spend so much effort on what I eat, the supplements I take, the positive affirmations I state, the alternative treatments I pursue, but do I put that same level of effort into my creativity or life purpose?

She went on to discuss the importance of including some type of love, activities that bring you pleasure, acts of service to others, and gratitude for all you have already been given into your life to support your whole health cairn. This all seems like a lot to juggle, but I took away from her talk that whole health is so much more than what I thought of as health.  That life is made up of so many different areas and they all contribute to or take away from our whole health.  And then she said something that made me stop and back up her talk to hear it again.

When life falls apart you either grow or you grow a tumor.

What!?!? I don’t know about you, but that caught me up short.  All of the periods in my life where areas in my health cairn were falling apart, I had a choice.  I could resist, hunker down, and try desperately to hang onto to how things were, or I could surrender to something greater than myself and grow.  Given the fact that I grew a tumor, I think you know which one I usually chose.  So now that I know better I will try to do better.  In those “falling apart” times I will now try to choose surrender and growth. How is your whole health cairn doing? Is it strong and balanced or is it leaning or in a pile?  Pay some attention to what areas are weakest and shore them up.  Grow from the hardest things you are facing today.  Learn from my mistakes.  Whole health is precious and definitely worth the work!

 

Be Still and Know

That’s a tough one for me.  You might wonder which part and my answer is “both.”  Let’s start with “Be Still.”  In this world, how is it possible to be still?  With the constant bombardment of 24/7 news, the ability to be connected anytime and anywhere, cell phones, emails, texts, Facebook, 100s of tv channels to choose from, the internet, and seemingly endless to-do lists, how can we possibly be still?  And then add in being raised in a household where accomplishments and “doing” were valued much more than simply “being,” coupled with my type A, driven personality type and it is a recipe for anything but stillness.  What if someone saw me being still and thought I was lazy?  What value would I bring to this world if I wasn’t accomplishing something?  Who am I if I am not defined by what I do?

Then there is the “and Know.”  Where do I begin with that one?  How do we ever really know?  We can evaluate as many pieces of data as we can gather and try to assemble some level of knowing, but can we ever truly know?  Growing up I remember being told to not be ruled by my emotions.  Decisions were to be made using my logical brain and were to be based on facts.  Gut instincts were devalued or ignored completely.  I learned at an early age that what you thought out was much more accurate than what you felt.  So back to my original question, how do you know?

The last 5 years have been a master’s level course in the importance of being still and knowing.  When you are faced with life and death situations, chronic pain, fear, and uncertainties you are forced to face the importance of finding some time and space to just be still.  Turn off the electronics, phone, tv, anything that keeps you frantically busy and just be still. I find it much easier when I remove myself from my day to day environment.  It seems that there are always too many things to keep my mind racing when I’m at home.  Sometimes that’s taking a drive, going for a walk (not that easy anymore with the neuropathy), or taking a much-needed vacation.  Whatever allows my mind to disengage.  I think that’s what’s really important.  When you can get out of your head, you can begin to be.  Intuition, a concept I never believed in until recently, can begin to surface.  That’s where true knowing comes in.  I am only beginning to experience intuition and it is thrilling each and every time I actually feel/sense it. People see intuition as coming from many different sources; God, the universe, our gut.  I don’t think it really matters what you call its source, I think it’s more important that you learn to feel/sense it.  When you feel your intuition deep inside there is a level of knowing that facts and figures can never provide.  So, my recommendation is to find a place where you can truly be still and go inside yourself.  Ask what you are to know today, and just listen.  Sometimes the answer is a feeling, an image, or a sense, but often there will be some sort of answer, if we are still.  I am just beginning this knowing journey, but it is so much more real and certain than any of my left brain, fact-based journey to this point. Give it a try.  Take a walk on a beach, sit by a mountain stream, visit a park and practice just being.  You may be pleasantly surprised by what you find.