Reflections on My Year of Healing

Today, May 15, is Clay's 7th birthday. It is, in a sense, a birthday for me, as well. One year ago today is when I first heard the words that would change my life forever.... "You have breast cancer." Actually, Dr. D didn't use those exact words. I can see her now, standing by the ultrasound screen, pointing at a large spot on the image of my right breast saying something to the effect of, "This is definitely cancer that we are dealing with." She was so certain in her delivery of this news that I never doubted for a second while we awaited the biopsy results that she was correct in her diagnosis. And she was.

Wow. It's hard to believe it has been a year when I can remember the details of that day as if it were yesterday. So much has happened. So much has changed. I have changed. Sure, I have two fewer breasts than I did at this time last year and about 1/100th of the hair. (I also have hot flashes I never had before, as I was just reminded. Woo! I also have chemo brain big time!) The biggest changes, however, are not the ones you can see with your eyes (or that cause the flushing or forgetfulness.) The real transformation occurred not within my body but within my spirit. That day symbolizes a rebirth for me, an awakening to life. That day marked the beginning of my year of healing.

Last year when I created the name of the blog, I think I was referring solely to the physical aspects of healing I was about to undergo, as I knew the treatments would be nearly a year in duration. What I didn't know and couldn't really even begin to comprehend was all of the other forms of healing that would occur. I also now understand that my year of healing was just the beginning of a lifelong journey of healing, an opportunity for continued growth and awareness. I deliberately picked pink as the background color for the blog. "How appropriate," I thought, never knowing how sick of pink I would become!

My beloved yoga instructor, Joy, interviewed me for a newsletter several months after my diagnosis, and I remember her asking something along the lines of, "One year from now when this is all behind you, what do you want your life to be like?" I remember my response being something like, "I don't want to forget the lessons learned from this experience and the overwhelming sense of gratitude for just being alive."

Early on, my brother, John, asked a similar question . "When this is all over, do you think that you will just consider it to be a part of your past that you dealt with and that you will resume your normal life, or do you think that you will be forever changed by it and live your life differently moving forward?" At the time, I answered that while some people probably couldn't wait to get their old lives back, I didn't want life to ever go back to "normal." I was already beginning to experience the gifts that come from staring death in the face and telling it to go take a hike.

I have asked myself the question, "If someone could wave a magic wand and make it so I never had cancer, but at the same time, the lessons learned from the experience would also disappear, would I want the wand waved?" That's a tough question, but in all honesty, I think I would have to say "no, thank you" to that offer. I could, however, put the wand to good use for some other purposes... and I wouldn't ask for much... a villa in Tuscany, a live in massage therapist (actually one in Tuscany and one in Toano), and hair. Otherwise, life is good, and I am so satisfied!

At the time I began the blog, I couldn't even begin to imagine where I would be one year later, but I do remember having total faith that I would not only survive, but that I would be entirely healed of the disease. And I have been. Just by virtue of its name, I don't think I intended to maintain the blog beyond one year. I have been giving serious thought to discontinuing my ramblings as my first year of healing draws to an end this evening. Afterall, I am now only updating it every couple of weeks. Nonetheless, I believe there is still value for me certainly, and perhaps for others, in continuing it. As I embark upon my new mission to save lives by educating women about breast cancer, I may be able to use the blog as a tool in that endeavor. Besides, the fact of the matter is, I still have a lot left to say! I have to tell you about all of the lessons I learned. I would say more tonight, but it is late, and one of the lessons I learned is to take care of your body and it will take care of you!

A Morning Song

It’s early in Scottsdale, but the birds have been singing their chorus of morning greetings since before the sky began to lighten. My internal clock is still on East Coast time, so I have been using the stillness of these moments as the day gently awakens to reflect.

I am here for the annual conference for my business, the Entrepreneur’s Source. Last year at this time, I was at my first conference with the Entrepreneur’s Source, and I was completely unaware of the journey upon which I was soon about to embark. I almost just wrote “blissfully unaware”, but there was nothing blissful about the way I was living my life. Not only was I unaware of the cancer that was growing in my body, in many ways I was just plain unaware. I was living, and it was an active, busy, full life, but it was also a life of unawareness.

I found the lump right before I left for conference last year. It felt different from anything I had felt before. I had my share of lumpy breast tissue, but this lump, it was noticeable within the rest of the lumpiness of my right breast. Nonetheless, I was getting ready to go out of town, and I was busy, and I dismissed it. After all, I had just had a mammogram a month earlier, and that was fine. Sure, I have a strong family history of breast cancer in my family, but that didn’t mean I was going to get it. Besides, I didn’t have time for this. And so, I left for the conference and didn’t give it another thought... then.

But I did give it another thought later. Last year’s conference was in Palm Springs. My friend, Charity and I would begin every morning with a hike on a nearby mountain. It was beautiful, and I relished these walks and our talks. The days were filled with conference activities, and the evenings were filled with dinners with colleagues and hanging out at the bar or poolside. I was distracted from the lump, but now that I was aware of its presence, this knowledge would intrude into my thoughts at random moments. I remember telling Charity about it, and in her sweet, optimistic way, she assured me that it was probably nothing more than a swollen lymph node as this had happened to her in the past. Uh huh. Yea, I am sure that’s all it is… But in the deepest recesses of my consciousness, I knew. It’s just that the more accessible part of my consciousness wasn’t ready to absorb the truth yet.

It still wasn’t ready when I returned home from the conference, but ready or not, I wasn’t going to be allowed to dismiss it for much longer. The week I got back from the conference, Bo felt it. “What’s that?” he asked. (Deep sigh.) I scheduled an appointment that same week with my ob/gyn. I guess you could say that the rest is history.

So here I am, almost a year later. Yes, here I am. I AM HERE! I am.

Those birds are singing a song of celebration this morning, every morning, and I am listening now. Each day is a celebration. I know there are really crappy days, and I would be lying if I told you that every single moment of my life is now blissful. What I can tell you is that every day presents us with so many things worth celebrating… a call from a friend, a decadent piece of chocolate cake, a gentle breeze on your face, the scent of a flower, apples, a smile from a stranger, the sound of laughter, a ladybug, a pretty picture, a sweet caress from your partner, a song, tears, a beautiful sunset, tickling, a white puffy cloud in a blue sky, thunder, a cup of coffee (or organic green tea for me), a good book, a long soak in a tub, hair (!), a butterfly kiss....

Many of the things worth celebrating are forever there and are always available to us despite the good or the bad that is happening in our lives. Some days we can't just can't see them due to the clutter that can consume our day to day existence, but it's not because those wonderful, celebratory things aren't there... It’s all about being aware.