Years ago, I met a woman that lived on the Eastside, in Bellevue actually that sold beautiful rugs. I asked her if she would be willing to trade massage for one. Quickly, she and I hit it off and we spent the next few years, every week, trading. I have a bazillion rugs now that are housed at various friends homes and are also strewn about my cabin.
She was a young mother of two teenage kids. Michelle was in her early forties. I met her just as she had finished Breast Cancer treatment, her hair was a delightful pixie cut, and she was in the process of getting implants. I learned a lot while I worked on her, all-the-while thinking OF COURSE, I would never be dealing with Cancer. That was about eight years ago now.
I admired that she loved to go out dancing, and rage at various local shows till the wee hours. I watched her fall in love with a man that loved her despite her being without breasts & during the process of getting breasts. I loved her spunk. She was a wonderful mother, her sense of “Napoleon Dynamite” humor with her kids, and… and…SHOOT! I totally thought she had Health in her future!!
Finally, I got my fill of rugs and ended our trades. I got married, and life went along the road of the living. Well…we all know how my story goes and that I entered her side of the Club I didn’t want to belong to.
The past couple of weeks, I have been driving past her neck of the woods for the first time in years and I thought, I should go by her house and say hello. I tossed that idea around for a few weeks, feeling it sink deep into the bottom of my belly. Feeling the undeniable, “I wonder if her cancer came back? I wonder if she is alive? I wonder if she is married to that nice man?” Well, this week I decided to take a left off the road I travel on, and make my way up to her house.
I got a little lost, I couldn’t remember exactly. When I was a little girl, my Mother taught me to get around and remember directions by landmarks…by trees and such. That helped guide me to her house as I saw a familiar Rhododendron and I took that right. As I pulled into her driveway I noticed a “Baby Girl” balloon outside the door. I thought, Jez…did she just have another baby?
I didn’t have to knock because a nice man opened the door and I introduced myself as I asked if Michelle was still here. He said he had bought the house a year and a half ago and that he was (I knew it was coming) sorry to be the one to give me the bad news, but that Michelle had not made it. I looked up into the stairwell and saw that his families photos had replaced Michelle’s families. I thanked him, and as I walked away, I said, “Looks like you have a lot of life to be celebrating in there. Enjoy.” I walked away with a newborns cry and a somber mood.
I drove away and cried, and spoke to her, and remembered her. The past few days I have been thinking about her and realized that I did much of the “coming back to life post treatment” that she had. I rarely missed a night of dancing in the city and had a summer of the most fun I have ever had as an adult. I partied (in a good way) like it was 1999!!! (I’m a Prince fan, what can I say)..
For some reason the length of her hair when I last got to work on her stuck with me. I’ve been mulling and processing in my head how sad I am that I never got to sit and have that cup of tea with her. I never got to shock the heck out of her and tell her I got sick too! I never got to ask her to go dancing with me! Why did she not make it? Where are her kids now? This is my next step is to track them down. The Seattle area is small, and I know enough people that once I start the “did you know”, to my friends I will find her kids or her parents.
Tears are pretty full this past week. If I slow down and just look, they come. This morning, as I was massaging I looked in the mirror and saw that my hair is now the longest its been since I was diagnosed in ’08. Its shoulder length now! Wow! I cocked my head from side to side, and watched it sway back and forth. I still enjoy my new treat of swirling my hair when I am in bad traffic. I never was a twirler before cancer, but it’s a sweet and fun way of connecting in with my ego, my girly side, and celebrating having hair.
I thought today, Wow! At each stage of length bald, fuzz, chemo curls with pixie, at ear length, and now at shoulder length I was healing in drastically different ways. One of the hardest parts of writing this particular book for me is processing all that I went through in one fell swoop. It takes me months to process from a full weeks worth of work and I then start to compile thoughts through that healing, and then go back to paper and write more. Hhhmmmm…Yes, I am still healing. I feel incredibly blessed to have the opportunity to do all this personal growth and am excited to some day share it.
People want to know when I will be done with the book? These folks are not writers, as the published writers in my life, all laugh when I talk to them about how I REALLY feel like answering this question. I have no idea when it will be done. It’s not just a fun book to write, you know. It’s a beautiful piece of artwork that is in the process of healing my heart as I birth it. It will take some time.
Well…Michelle, I am so sorry you didn’t make it babe. You were amazing. I am so very sorry and bummed I didn’t get to drink tea with you. Ugh. Belly cries and sadness.
Showing posts with label facing death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label facing death. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Battle Wounds
September was a whirlwind and October is already half way over. Each day is filled with times of reclaiming Heather. Reclaiming her and integrating Heather. The new and old.
Like today, I took a five mile walk, as yesterday I went for a run and lifted weights so I was trying to be gentle on my knees. Strangely, my knees had a hard time for the first time ever, in my whole life. I realized that running everyday is not good and that I need to be slow with the running again. So, I'm trying to do every other day. On my walk, I noticed the fall leaves and the spiders living in their new spun homes. As I walked my brain had a flashback of last Autumn. How the very bald head seemed to find every unseen spider web and how happy I was this year to be blissfully in lala hair zone and not know about all the spider webs getting caught in my SUPER curly hair. The longer it gets the curls just get curlier. The phrase "chemo curls" seems to have been coined due to my hair! I am absolutely loving having hair. Each day, I bound into the shower to wet it, no need for shampoo yet, and rinse out the day befores product, and then put more on it. I love the smell and the ritual. My eyelashes are not fully in and that is starting to drive me nuts.
The other thing that I realized today as my friend felt my port stitches (the stitches we removed the other day), is that its a little rough. She mentioned that there is vitamin E, and whatever else stuff. I intterupted her and told her that I don't want to use anything. The hippie girl in me knows about all that stuff. I told her, that with all this cancer stuff I just don't want to use anything alternative. Not that Vitamin E is alternative. But I just DON'T want to use anything. The scar is what it is. Its rough. Its my battle wound. It helps as I run my fingers across it, to remind me that yes, indeed what I have gone through is and was real. It was rough. It will heal. It will move on. It will be whole again. Forever changed. Forever different. But it will be smooth again. And I don't want to pretend or take away anything from it. That is where my medicine went into my heart and healed me. I want it to be a reminder. For that delicious day that I am full of health and living the life that I get to live. That. One. Day. In. The. Future.
I had a dinner party at my house tonight. I made soup, Made a plum cobbler. I am eating sugar. Some would say, The Devil. I am not going to go without everything just out of fear. If eating plum cobbler, or drinking wine, or having a cookie makes cancer come back and kill me Some Day...then...it does. Who knows. We all are going to have to die. Some Day. Some. Day.
Life is full of those thoughts lately. That someday. There is a ton of sadness. I am full of sadness. Less tears. More just integrating right now. I am not as manic. I am sleeping. I am loving, EVERYONE deeply around me. Its interesting seeing who can take it in. Who cannot. How those that can't make me want to give more or to totally remove myself. Knowing full well, that in the end, it and none of really matters. Because of that some day. Those that are in my life now, will be..until they are not. Pretty simple.
I need to start writing my book. I am hoping for a respite soon. Loving deeply. Feeling deeply. Heart wide open. Loving myself a TON. Loving feeling alive. And loving those spider webs.
Like today, I took a five mile walk, as yesterday I went for a run and lifted weights so I was trying to be gentle on my knees. Strangely, my knees had a hard time for the first time ever, in my whole life. I realized that running everyday is not good and that I need to be slow with the running again. So, I'm trying to do every other day. On my walk, I noticed the fall leaves and the spiders living in their new spun homes. As I walked my brain had a flashback of last Autumn. How the very bald head seemed to find every unseen spider web and how happy I was this year to be blissfully in lala hair zone and not know about all the spider webs getting caught in my SUPER curly hair. The longer it gets the curls just get curlier. The phrase "chemo curls" seems to have been coined due to my hair! I am absolutely loving having hair. Each day, I bound into the shower to wet it, no need for shampoo yet, and rinse out the day befores product, and then put more on it. I love the smell and the ritual. My eyelashes are not fully in and that is starting to drive me nuts.
The other thing that I realized today as my friend felt my port stitches (the stitches we removed the other day), is that its a little rough. She mentioned that there is vitamin E, and whatever else stuff. I intterupted her and told her that I don't want to use anything. The hippie girl in me knows about all that stuff. I told her, that with all this cancer stuff I just don't want to use anything alternative. Not that Vitamin E is alternative. But I just DON'T want to use anything. The scar is what it is. Its rough. Its my battle wound. It helps as I run my fingers across it, to remind me that yes, indeed what I have gone through is and was real. It was rough. It will heal. It will move on. It will be whole again. Forever changed. Forever different. But it will be smooth again. And I don't want to pretend or take away anything from it. That is where my medicine went into my heart and healed me. I want it to be a reminder. For that delicious day that I am full of health and living the life that I get to live. That. One. Day. In. The. Future.
I had a dinner party at my house tonight. I made soup, Made a plum cobbler. I am eating sugar. Some would say, The Devil. I am not going to go without everything just out of fear. If eating plum cobbler, or drinking wine, or having a cookie makes cancer come back and kill me Some Day...then...it does. Who knows. We all are going to have to die. Some Day. Some. Day.
Life is full of those thoughts lately. That someday. There is a ton of sadness. I am full of sadness. Less tears. More just integrating right now. I am not as manic. I am sleeping. I am loving, EVERYONE deeply around me. Its interesting seeing who can take it in. Who cannot. How those that can't make me want to give more or to totally remove myself. Knowing full well, that in the end, it and none of really matters. Because of that some day. Those that are in my life now, will be..until they are not. Pretty simple.
I need to start writing my book. I am hoping for a respite soon. Loving deeply. Feeling deeply. Heart wide open. Loving myself a TON. Loving feeling alive. And loving those spider webs.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Another one bites the dust..
Yesterday, is now behind me. Chemotherapy number 11. I have actually done eleven chemotherapies. To get through this I just have had to keep my head down and go. Move. Don't think to much, little one. Just do it. Just get your port put in. Don't think, feel a bit, and move forward. Yesterday, I let myself think about the monstrosity of chemo and what I have actually gone through. All the stuff. The IVF stuff, all the injections I had to give myself, all the emotions of coming to grips with possibly not getting to have my own kids someday, all the tests, the hair cuts, the hair falling out, the sleepless nights, the not feeling good, the losing and tearing away of the veils of my former life, on and on the list goes. I let myself think about my these feets yesterday. I have actually allowed myself to receive eleven chemo's so far. Incredilbe. There are tears running down my face right now.
Yep, I have only five more and I can't wait. I am a little scared of all the tears that will start percolating in early March, when I am all done, and am safe to REALLY start processing. You know, when you go traveling to a third world place and you are suddenly able to live and do things that you in your first world mentalities would never allow yourself to come in contact with, and you can fully function and love life in this new way. I've always wondered how I was able to live with the people in West Africa for as long as I did. And I loved every moment of it. Having cancer is sortof like this. I for some reason, am able to transcend my old way of being, (although its just in reach, whenever I am ready to go back to it) and do and go through things that I once didn't know I could go through. We are all like this. We are so much more than we ever really know.
I had relatives this past winter tell me and D that they didn't think I could handle being on Survivor. It was such a funny statement to me when they said this. First of all, it was clear they didn't know who I was very well, and secondly to think that a human spirit isn't able to transcend was such a foreign concept to me. This is what WE do. This IS life. And WE all do it, daily. Maybe not Cancer level, or Survivor level, or Africa level, but we do it. Its how we survive what we call life. Its our opportunity to grow spiritually.
So, here I am unable to sleep and thinking about what I've done so far. I told my Onc yesterday that if there are any microscopic cancer cells that have not been killed, and rear their heads on a MRI in a couple years (it takes sometimes, a few years to grow large enough to be detected) that i wasn't sure if I'd go through this again. He said, that right about now this is how everyone feels. I have been, not out of morbidity, but out of the very real fact that it could happen, thinking about my action plan if it does come back. I told my Onc that I was thinking a nice beach in Costa Rica would be a good way to go, instead of poisoning myself in my last days in hopes that something works.
He told me, that he's giving me the most powerful chemo drugs he can this time, in hopes that that doens't happen. The brite side, is if it does come back, he'd give me lessor powerful drugs to see if that would do the trick. And in a couple years, the medicine will have new innovative treatments. He told me its common to go through this. Which leads me to thinking about how vulnerable I will feel when this is all done.
As it is right now, each day I have to stop myself from doing breast exams. I keep thinking I feel lumps, and panicking. D, reminds me that my Onc, "the best guy in the state to do a breast exam, Heather" just did one last week and you are OKAY. Right. I am okay. Sure. Sure. Its so unsettling. I already know that I am going to NEED a few support groups and I can't wait to start turning this blog, into a book. This process is really going to help my process.re
Yep, I have only five more and I can't wait. I am a little scared of all the tears that will start percolating in early March, when I am all done, and am safe to REALLY start processing. You know, when you go traveling to a third world place and you are suddenly able to live and do things that you in your first world mentalities would never allow yourself to come in contact with, and you can fully function and love life in this new way. I've always wondered how I was able to live with the people in West Africa for as long as I did. And I loved every moment of it. Having cancer is sortof like this. I for some reason, am able to transcend my old way of being, (although its just in reach, whenever I am ready to go back to it) and do and go through things that I once didn't know I could go through. We are all like this. We are so much more than we ever really know.
I had relatives this past winter tell me and D that they didn't think I could handle being on Survivor. It was such a funny statement to me when they said this. First of all, it was clear they didn't know who I was very well, and secondly to think that a human spirit isn't able to transcend was such a foreign concept to me. This is what WE do. This IS life. And WE all do it, daily. Maybe not Cancer level, or Survivor level, or Africa level, but we do it. Its how we survive what we call life. Its our opportunity to grow spiritually.
So, here I am unable to sleep and thinking about what I've done so far. I told my Onc yesterday that if there are any microscopic cancer cells that have not been killed, and rear their heads on a MRI in a couple years (it takes sometimes, a few years to grow large enough to be detected) that i wasn't sure if I'd go through this again. He said, that right about now this is how everyone feels. I have been, not out of morbidity, but out of the very real fact that it could happen, thinking about my action plan if it does come back. I told my Onc that I was thinking a nice beach in Costa Rica would be a good way to go, instead of poisoning myself in my last days in hopes that something works.
He told me, that he's giving me the most powerful chemo drugs he can this time, in hopes that that doens't happen. The brite side, is if it does come back, he'd give me lessor powerful drugs to see if that would do the trick. And in a couple years, the medicine will have new innovative treatments. He told me its common to go through this. Which leads me to thinking about how vulnerable I will feel when this is all done.
As it is right now, each day I have to stop myself from doing breast exams. I keep thinking I feel lumps, and panicking. D, reminds me that my Onc, "the best guy in the state to do a breast exam, Heather" just did one last week and you are OKAY. Right. I am okay. Sure. Sure. Its so unsettling. I already know that I am going to NEED a few support groups and I can't wait to start turning this blog, into a book. This process is really going to help my process.re
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Bag Lady
Okay, sorry I took a few days off. I admittedly have been slammed with real estate and absolutely loving it. Yeah know, when I got diagnosed my life fell apart. It had to. I had to spend weeks on the coach in shock, unable to move. I had to spend time reading everything I could get my hands on about breast cancer and I needed to do this. It empowered me. The pain of family members calling and not understanding and feeling free to judge and ask me why, I wasn't happier, ect...still is painful. I felt so misunderstood in a time that I needed to just be held. The compassionate person in me can and does understand that they are just people, trying to connect the best they can. But my heart has a ways to go with understanding their questions.
I remember when I was afraid of everything in the beginning. Even questioning and being met with no real answers from my doctors about the simplest life things. After my surgery will I be able to carry heavy grocery bags? Will this cause lymphadema? Yesterday, as I left the grocery store I decided to test this for the first time. The once unconscious act of carrying multiple bags in my right and left arms. Well, yesterday I carried two heavy bags with that right arm. I thought to myself, "wow, I am doing it. It doesn't cause any discomfort. I think its safe." That is how my life feels again. I think its safe to be Heather again.
A friend Anna from Vashon made a collague for me. Its a beautiful yellow flower that has shattered glass swirled in a beautiful pattern around its budding flower. This is how my life has and still feels. I was that beautiful radiant flower that gleamed all that I am. And then, cancer came into my life. It shattered the mirror of my life into a million pieces and it was up to me to get them into a beautiful pattern. As I was not going to let cancer make an ugly pattern of my life. So for the past few months I alone, have taken each piece of my shattered life and begun putting it into a beautiful mosaic again. I cannot put the mirror back the way it was. That is impossible, and I don't want to. I want to see all the ways that life isn't perfect and see the beauty in it.
In fact, I am starting to feel empowered again. So, to the people that thought I was being destructive, or that I should be working faster than I was able to, or that I was not "doing" to their unknown (because they have never had cancer, nor had to face their mortality, at a young age) standards, I AM BACK. THE WAY YOU WANTED ME. BUT ON MY TERMS. AND ON MY CLOCK. I am so proud of the way I have gone through this and frankly, I made it. I feel good. Cancer isn't just about facing treatment and making it. Its about facing my life, and facing mortality and being brave to know that noone can tell me if I am going to make it 100% and thats the real truth, not to mention what I had to go through with the whole fertility thing.
So, Heather is trickling back into my blood. I am back tentatively attacking real estate again. I actually am enjoying it tremendously. My office rocks. I love going there and have such support from my family there. From the beginning. Support that hasn't gone away with time.
I still have about five months to go. But I am starting to learn to live with my cancer treatment and all the unknowns. I don't get to know if my cancer counts are going down during this, I just get to have faith that they are. I will get to wait until January to know if I am in fact in remission and that I am living cancer free. So for today, I get to go forward with a beautiful sunny day and I get four more good days until my last AC. I am not looking forward to feeling sick again, and having my soul sucked from my veins. I get to just hope that Taxol is easier and that it gives me a few good days in between the treatments. I am scared that I won't. Changing to weekly chemo treatments brings a bit of anxiety to me. But at least I am now carrying grocery bags and going for bike rides.
I remember when I was afraid of everything in the beginning. Even questioning and being met with no real answers from my doctors about the simplest life things. After my surgery will I be able to carry heavy grocery bags? Will this cause lymphadema? Yesterday, as I left the grocery store I decided to test this for the first time. The once unconscious act of carrying multiple bags in my right and left arms. Well, yesterday I carried two heavy bags with that right arm. I thought to myself, "wow, I am doing it. It doesn't cause any discomfort. I think its safe." That is how my life feels again. I think its safe to be Heather again.
A friend Anna from Vashon made a collague for me. Its a beautiful yellow flower that has shattered glass swirled in a beautiful pattern around its budding flower. This is how my life has and still feels. I was that beautiful radiant flower that gleamed all that I am. And then, cancer came into my life. It shattered the mirror of my life into a million pieces and it was up to me to get them into a beautiful pattern. As I was not going to let cancer make an ugly pattern of my life. So for the past few months I alone, have taken each piece of my shattered life and begun putting it into a beautiful mosaic again. I cannot put the mirror back the way it was. That is impossible, and I don't want to. I want to see all the ways that life isn't perfect and see the beauty in it.
In fact, I am starting to feel empowered again. So, to the people that thought I was being destructive, or that I should be working faster than I was able to, or that I was not "doing" to their unknown (because they have never had cancer, nor had to face their mortality, at a young age) standards, I AM BACK. THE WAY YOU WANTED ME. BUT ON MY TERMS. AND ON MY CLOCK. I am so proud of the way I have gone through this and frankly, I made it. I feel good. Cancer isn't just about facing treatment and making it. Its about facing my life, and facing mortality and being brave to know that noone can tell me if I am going to make it 100% and thats the real truth, not to mention what I had to go through with the whole fertility thing.
So, Heather is trickling back into my blood. I am back tentatively attacking real estate again. I actually am enjoying it tremendously. My office rocks. I love going there and have such support from my family there. From the beginning. Support that hasn't gone away with time.
I still have about five months to go. But I am starting to learn to live with my cancer treatment and all the unknowns. I don't get to know if my cancer counts are going down during this, I just get to have faith that they are. I will get to wait until January to know if I am in fact in remission and that I am living cancer free. So for today, I get to go forward with a beautiful sunny day and I get four more good days until my last AC. I am not looking forward to feeling sick again, and having my soul sucked from my veins. I get to just hope that Taxol is easier and that it gives me a few good days in between the treatments. I am scared that I won't. Changing to weekly chemo treatments brings a bit of anxiety to me. But at least I am now carrying grocery bags and going for bike rides.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Ode to the Popsicle
I just bought my last fruit sweetened popsicle box. Strawberry, with yummy little chunks of berries in it. Innately I know that I need to cut out all sweets. I know that cancer feeds on sugar. End of story. I have for the past month, forced myself to stop going to the bakery. I went once and got a quiche. That sucks compared to a twice baked almond croissant from my favorite bakery in West Seattle, Bakery Nouveau. This is a bakery-a-holics nightmare distance of just four blocks east from my home.
I keep teasing and testing myself since I found out I have breast cancer. This is how it goes in my head, "If I don't get cancer back, then I will never know if changing my diet mattered. If I do get it back, then I will either have something to take out, if I don't take it out now. How much do I want to risk, or how much do I want to eliminate all the things I can blame if it does come back." But today, in Susan Loves Breast Book I read this golden tidbit, " It just illustrates that we have only odds, no certainty; to some extent, it's a crap shoot. You have to just search your heart and make your own choice." I can and do have the same philosophy with my journy with every freaking aspect. This WHOLE DAMN THING IS A CRAPSHOOT! Crapshoot, crapshoot, crapshoot. No certainty. No, noone knows if everything is going to be okay. And that is the thrill of life. Don't you see.
We all seek and desire these limits. Our limits. I am just on a journey with limits I didn't want to explore. But I get to explore them. I get to see how my body will fight its good fight against breast cancer. And it is my responsibility to do everything I can to put the right fuel in my machine. Would I before a big run drink a milkshake and eat a popsicle. No. So, I get to juice lots of greens, and carrots, and ginger, and, and, and....
Today, I felt awesome. Until we got outside. We walked up to the west seattle farmer's market. I got up there and ran into my friend Marni. In the middle of our conversation I started feeling dizzy and really weak and I had to leave. We got home, and watched another documentary on the Golden Gate Bridge. Then I thought I was okay to go the grocery store. I get tired, really tired within about ten minutes of being away from the house. I think its running into "normal" people and telling them about my experience and knowing that they just don't get it. The feel for me, but no one knows unless you've gone through it. If I wasn't such a people person I could see how someone could indulge in this separateness. It could be lonely. If any of you survivors are feeling lonely, I always find just talking to other survivors to be very empowering. They remind me that its totally normal how I am feeling, and that always helps.
My fear disappeared for a few days. But I am scared again. Although its not in my nodes, it still comes down to the, its a crapshoot thing. It sure will be interesting to see my destiny. This may sound grim, but its just life. The bug that flew into your windshield didn't mean to, it just was on its merry little way, and bam. Dead. We all joke that we could die on the way to work in a car crash, or whatever, but its true. I am a tenacious fighter, and I can totally hippie out and focus on those cells in meditation and I will start that this week. This week, I have to start back on the hippie train. Hard core. But it is a crapshoot.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Singing in my sleep
I keep forgetting to write about this. If I ever questioned the power of music, last week (D reminded me of this the next morning) I sang Graham Nash's song from the album "Songs for Beginners", and the song, "Simple Man". The line I sang and changed it in my sleep was, "just want to hold you, don't want to let you go." And Graham's version is, " I just want to hold you, and I don't want to let you down." I was facing my fears of death in my sleep, my fear of not being able to hold my husband anymore, of dying. Luckily we were sleeping, as I am completely tone deaf!!
I know I am not going to die, but one cannot control what the subconscious needs to process.
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