Seeing others through the lens of your heart

December 17, 2021 / 2 Comments

Last week I found myself sitting in the waiting room of a breast imaging office. It had been one year since my surprise breast cancer diagnosis and I was back for my annual scans. In the past year I have undergone surgery, radiation, and the necessary follow-ups, but this was the first time they were specifically looking for any new developments. To say I was anxious was an understatement.

As I was waiting to hear my name called by the Radiation Tech I noticed a woman, sitting a few seats away, with tears in her eyes. I recognized the look of fear and uncertainty, as I am sure I have had a similar look many times over the last few years. My heart immediately went out to her and I said “These scans can be really scary, can’t they?” She began to cry and went on to explain she had recently noticed a lump, had a mammogram, and was referred to a breast surgeon. She had seen the surgeon this morning and was now waiting to be called back for her biopsy. As she continued, she expressed fear that it was cancer (as breast cancer ran in her family), she didn’t know if the surgeon she was referred to was a good one, and that this time of year was such an awful time for all this to be happening. I was immediately drawn back to last year when I was experiencing the exact same emotions and concerns.

I asked her who the surgeon was that she had just met and the name she mentioned was my surgeon. He was wonderful! So compassionate, caring, willing to take whatever time you needed, and so knowledgeable and experienced in his field. I immediately told her what great hands she was in and shared my very positive experience with him. I also shared that I knew exactly what she was going through, as I was sitting where she now is just one year ago. She asked me many questions about my diagnosis and subsequent treatments and seemed a little less fearful and alone. I was never so thankful for an appointment running behind before and knew God had placed me in that exact seat, at that exact time, for just this reason. We exchanged names and I told her I would be praying for her in the coming weeks. She began to cry again, but this time from a place of some relief and a feeling of being heard and understood.

Just a few short years ago I don’t think I would have noticed a woman, emotionally distraught, sitting in a waiting room with me. If I had I am not sure I would have engaged, as I wouldn’t have had any idea what I should say. But that day I was there, present and willing to connect with another human being in need. I was willing to see with my heart and not just my eyes.

I was called back just a few minutes later and prayed for her as I changed for my scans. The wonderful news is my scans were clear and the surgeon doesn’t feel I need to be scanned again for another year. I am so thankful, but am also very aware that it doesn’t always go that way. My mammogram friend has been so on my mind and in my heart over the last week. I will continue to pray for her as she awaits her pathology results and makes any necessary decisions over the next few weeks and months. And I continue to be grateful that I was there that day and was able to see someone in pain instead of just being lost in my own fear over the tests of the day.

As this holiday season fast approaches, let’s all look for ways to see others through our hearts and not just with our eyes. There are so many hurting people all around us who need our smile, kind glance, or willing ear. Be on the lookout for opportunities to be for others what we sometimes need others to be for us. Wishing each of you a peace that passes all understanding during this holiday season.

Back in the fight

January 10, 2021 / 6 Comments

It began just like any other day. It was two weeks before Christmas, I had errands to run, and my annual mammogram and ultrasound scheduled. And then it happened, “there is an abnormality on your ultrasound.” “Most likely a glandular mass.” “Recommend a biopsy just to be safe.” Life went into slow motion. What if it’s cancer again? I can’t do this again! I scheduled the biopsy for the following week. The day arrived and the physician agreed with the original radiologist that it looked like a glandular mass (not a concern). I would have the pathology in two days. Those two days moved like molasses in winter. And then the call from my GYN, it was Breast Cancer. Cancer, a word I NEVER wanted to hear again in my life.

I saw the surgeon the week of Christmas and was scheduled for surgery the week between Christmas and New Year. What a holiday season it was. What-ifs weighed heavy on my mind at all times, even though I knew focusing on it every second wouldn’t change anything. The day of surgery arrived. First, I was sent for a sentinel lymph node injection and locating, then on to a needle localization (a wire is inserted into the mass using imaging guidance, that was fun). Finally, it was time for surgery. I was so thankful I was able to do all this as an outpatient, especially given the current Covid situation. Now to start the surgery recovery and await the pathology. The lab was really backed up with two holidays in the previous two weeks and the understaffing because of the pandemic. What should have been two to three days dragged on to nine, long days. When it finally came back this past week the results were favorable (as favorable as a cancer can be). I will see the surgeon for follow-up this coming week and get more information then.

Then, I’m off to the oncologist. I am hoping the next steps won’t include chemotherapy! There’s that work, Hope. It seems to appear more in my life in the last few years than ever before. Hope is so important, but sometimes so elusive. There have been so many times in my cancer battles that hope felt all but lost. Yet here I am! I am left wondering what the purpose is in all these diagnoses, but I choose to believe there is one.

So, I am firmly back in the fight again. A place I never wanted to be once, no less twice. Questioning why my immune system seems to not be able to contain rogue cancer cells before they become something more. I have changed my eating choices to the most inhospitable for cancer growth (whole food, plant based), am at a healthy weight (most of the time), work on my stress management (not always too successfully, if I am being totally honest), but here I am. So I ask you, my Hopeful Survivor friends, to send well wishes and/or prayers my way during these next few months. I think community is so important and I consider each of you mine. And never forget, as you face your own road you never wanted to travel, that there is always hope! It is not only my blog byline, but a constant theme in my life. Wishing you all a healthy and peaceful new year and sending so much love your way!

I Am Here

February 28, 2019 / Leave a comment

You may be asking yourself, has Hopeful Survivor fallen off the face of the earth? Is something wrong? Did she decide to stop blogging and never tell anyone? The answer to all these questions is “No.” I am painfully aware that I have been MIA lately. I haven’t blogged in a while for two main reasons. One is that I have had one health issue after another. None are life threatening (thank God) and after a cancer diagnosis I feel like non-life-threatening ills shouldn’t count. But they do. They still make you feel lousy, sap your energy, and lead to discouragement. It all began with a UTI in September, followed by the lead up to my regularly scheduled cancer scans (which always cause worry and anxiety). Before I even learned my results (yay, they were clear!), I started with the symptoms of what I now call “The Plague.” I am not trying to be melodramatic, but after two doctor visits (in which I was told it is not the flu, but will last and feel like it), and 7 weeks flat on my back, I didn’t know what else to call it. A cold just didn’t seem to adequately describe it. Thanksgiving this year was spent in bed, as my wonderful husband made our Thanksgiving dinner, complete with turkey, for just the two of us. That took me into December and yet another UTI. And let’s not forget the ever-present peripheral neuropathy. So, blogging wasn’t exactly in the forefront of my mind.

The second and bigger reason was that I didn’t feel like I had anything to say. I truly feel that this blog is a calling for me. If I am being honest, I would prefer not to do it, as I am normally a very private person. But I know that I know that I know that I lived through my cancer battle for a reason. I never forget that my prayer during that time was if I had to go through all this, that it not be wasted. I also know that, when diagnosed, I searched for one person who had lived with my very rare form of cancer (Undifferentiated Pleomorphic Sarcoma of the pelvis) and couldn’t find anyone. I thought that if one other person had survived, then I could too. So now I offer myself as that person for those of you who feel hopeless and despondent. That is my message, so I actually do have something to say. If you are feeling that life isn’t fair, you are correct. If you are feeling like you can’t take one more thing added to the long list of things you are currently dealing with, I am right there with you. But if you feel like you can’t go on, you are wrong. You can go on and life can get better! Maybe not in a linear fashion, getting a little better every day, but it can get better. Hope plays a huge part in that. There is always hope that tomorrow may be better than today, or at least next year may be better than this year. If we give up hope, there really is no reason to continue fighting the fight or take the next step on our journey (whatever that journey may be). I am still here for a reason and I believe it is to help spread hope to the hopeless. If you are feeling hopeless in one or many areas of your life right now, I am here. I understand and I care. Sometimes listening, encouraging, and refusing to give up on each other is why we are here. I AM HERE!!

Do you want to live?

September 13, 2018 / 2 Comments

No one actually asked me that and yet it is critically important to know the answer. I think most of us would instinctually respond with a yes, but do you really want to live? Life is hard. Marriages are tough or fail. Jobs are stressful or are lost. Kids can be heart breaking. Depression is real. Treatment is sometimes more than a person can bear. Given all that, do you really want to live?

Why? It is just as important to answer that question. Do you have a reason or reasons to live? Not just because it is expected of you, but do you have a purpose or goal? Are you clear on it? Do you visualize yourself at your child’s graduation? Can you see your daughter walking down the aisle? Can you feel your grandson in your arms? Do you see your life on the other side of your diagnosis? If not, I repeat, do you want to live? It is critically important that you be crystal clear on your “Why.”

When I was diagnosed I had just finalized a contentious 3+ year divorce. During that time, I was not working (I had stopped while still married), it was during the 2007/2008 high unemployment period and I wasn’t finding any opportunities no matter how hard I tried, money concerns were ever present, I moved 3 times in 6 months, my father got pneumonia and died, and my responsibilities for my ailing mother greatly increased. Prior to my divorce I was in a 14 year abusive marriage. Add all that up and you can see why my immune system was unable to stay on top of any rogue cancer cell formations. So, did I really want to live?

My answer was a resounding YES! As I have previously shared, my first love and I had just recently reconnected. We were so thankful to have found each other again after 35 years apart. We were making plans and dreaming dreams. Life and love were finally real parts of our lives. More than ever before, I wanted to live. Do I think that had much of an impact on my survival? Absolutely! That and God. It was not a coincidence that we had found each other again after all that time. That didn’t mean it was easy, it was not. Many people thought I wouldn’t survive the cancer, no less the treatment, but I did. And I’m still here.

I encourage each and every one of you to get crystal clear on your “Why.” Whether you are facing a health crisis or any other type of crisis, knowing your “Why” could save your life. So, when life gets hard, and it will get hard, ask yourself if you want to live and then get clear on your “Whys.” Those answers could make all the difference.

Health is a balancing act

August 28, 2018 / Leave a comment

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!

Miraculous find

August 14, 2018 / 5 Comments

I often get the question, “How did they find your cancer?” That simple question does not have a simple answer. You see, there were no symptoms. I thought I had a bladder infection and called my primary care physician for an antibiotic. She was on vacation and the doctor filling in for her thought it would be a good idea for me to see a Urologist. I didn’t understand why because I was not prone to bladder infections, but the idea of just going to Urgent Care for the prescription never crossed my mind (and that is something that would have always crossed my mind). Begrudgingly I scheduled an appointment with the recommended Urologist because I needed an antibiotic. He put me through the torture chamber of testing that only Urologists do, said he thought I was right and probably had a bladder infection (I know, right?), but wanted me to go for a CT of my kidneys to rule out kidney stones. Now if you know me at all you know I drink more water than anyone you have ever met, so the odds I had kidney stones were slim to none. I wasn’t experiencing any pain, but this is what he wanted done before he would give me an antibiotic. Again, why didn’t I just go to Urgent Care?

The next day I went in for my pelvic CT. I was so glad they had a cancelation because I really needed that antibiotic. As I was driving home from the scan, my cell phone rang. It was my Urologist’s office asking me to stop by on my way home. Yay, I was finally going to get my prescription! When I arrived, the receptionist looked anxious and immediately took me back to the doctor’s office. She assured me he would be right in, she just needed to pull him out of the examination room. I thought it was odd that he was that willing to personally hand me my much-needed prescription, but as long as I was getting it I didn’t care. When he entered the room, he looked concerned. He told me he had good news and he had bad news. The good news was I didn’t have kidney stones and he handed me my antibiotic prescription. The bad news was I had a hole in my pelvic bone and needed to see my Oncologist right away! My first thought was “what Oncologist?” He proceeded to tell me it appeared my cancer had returned and metastasized to my pelvic bone. My head was spinning. I had never had cancer. I didn’t have an Oncologist. What is he talking about? When I explained all this to him he immediately called my primary care physician (who was back from vacation), spoke to her, and then called over to the local hospital’s Oncology practice to schedule me ASAP.

A few days later I found myself in an Oncologist’s office. When she entered she introduced herself and then said “I have reviewed your scan and think you have stage 4 multiple myeloma and probably won’t see Christmas.” What is it with these doctors?!? Did I mention I was alone in her office when she delivered this news? All I could think to say is “Do I look like someone who has stage 4 multiple myeloma?” She said no, but she couldn’t imagine what else it could be. She scheduled me for a multitude of tests.

Each test came back normal. When I would heave a sigh of relief and say “that’s great!” she would respond “no, no it’s not.” She wanted to know what caused the hole and I was just glad all the tests came back normal. This cat and mouse game continued for 2 months. There were bone scans, CTs, blood tests, all coming back normal. Next was the CT guided needle biopsy into my pelvic bone. Not fun this time either. The biopsy came back as healthy tissue. I thought this nightmare was behind me. Then she told me I had to have an open incision biopsy at a hospital 1 ½ – 2 hours away. I was done. I had completed every test and scan she recommended. It was about this time that I told her that when you’re a carpenter and the only tool you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. But God had other plans. He wasn’t going to let me come this far and not cross the finish line. She then offered to take my case to “The Tumor Board.” I didn’t even know there was such a thing, but I thought they would think she had done enough and maybe I was just born with a misshaped pelvic bone. After all, I had never had a CT of my pelvic bone before. I agreed. They unanimously agreed with her. The appointment with the Orthopedic Oncological Surgeon (who just “happened” to be ranked #1 in the country at the time) was scheduled.

When I met with him he also thought it was not cancer. He ordered an MRI with contrast just to make sure. That was about the only test they hadn’t done yet. When the results came back they were inconclusive, so he called the Oncologist to recommend watching it. She would not agree. She really felt it was cancer. He talked with me and said he did not think it was cancer, but had to pursue it further, if she would not sign off on his recommendation. To say I was not happy with that Oncologist was an understatement. It wasn’t that I was in denial, it was that I thought I had had enough tests to determine there was no cancer. We decided to go through with the open incision biopsy to put this to rest once and for all. And as I wrote about in an earlier blog, it did end up being a really aggressive, really rare form of bone cancer (Undifferentiated Pleomorphic Sarcoma).

When I reflect over all the details of this miraculous find I can’t help but be amazed at how God orchestrated all this. First of all, He allowed it to be found before there were symptoms (and it would be too late). For some reason it never occurred to me that I should just go to Urgent Care and get an antibiotic prescription (which would normally be my first thought in this situation). I also didn’t mention that the bladder infection that drove me to the doctor in the first place ended up testing negative for infection after all and the symptoms stopped as soon as the CT found the hole in my pelvic bone. Then there was the Oncologist who I not so affectionately dubbed “Dr. Pitbull.” She continued to dig, even when all the signs were that this was nothing. She even stood up to a much more experienced physician, whose specialty was bone cancer, when he recommended taking a step back and just watching it. Another thing that happened, after the biopsy determined it was cancer, was that I knew I couldn’t go through all this alone in Pennsylvania, where I was living. It “just so happens” the #2 Orthopedic Oncological Surgeon was in New York, where my fiancé lived, and the first surgeon was friends with him and got me in within a week of the biopsy results. And God had brought my fiancé and I back together just months before all this started. There is no doubt that I wouldn’t have lived through the treatment without the dedicated and loving 24/7 care he provided. Was any of this a coincidence? I don’t think so. Did any of this surprise God? No, but it sure did surprise me. When the times came that didn’t seem anything but hopeless over the next year+, I reflected on all the details associated with my miraculous find and knew God was with me. I still think back on all that transpired when I find myself becoming fearful of the future and choose to believe God allowed me to survive for some greater purpose. I am still here and so are you. We all have a purpose and until my purpose is completed I will continue to share my story of hope with those I cross paths. It’s not that I feel hopeful each and every day, but I do know God is with me. He has shown that time and time again throughout this journey. There is great hope in that!