CFR~

As I sit here, trying to find the starting part, a flood of images and thoughts rush past my eyes. I guess I'll start with the homework assignment. Each participant is required to draw, or what have you, something on a square cloth that will be made into a quilt of our class. I wrote a poem of coarse and it read:

A common thread
tied into
A common knot

Well, today I learned how to cast my rod in a various of ways. I learned about knot tying. I made a few bugs/flies. Really cool ones that made me scream out, "Its a caterpillar!" I am the youngest one here, by far. That sucks shit. I hate it. It makes me angry, I say with tears streaming down my eyes. There are lots of moms here, there are grandmothers here, there are woman that have lived a life that are here. I have lived a life. But not as long as them. I want to be a mom super badly. And hearing them talk/complain about their hot flashes, they are able to laugh about it. I can laugh about mine. But its not the same when a guy I am dating says to me as I am repeatedly taking on and off a sweatshirt, "what, are you in menopause?" When, the joke is not a joke. And I say yes. I want to cry when that happens. And I do sometimes. Because menopause to me, could possibly mean the end of a life long dream. I never dreamed about my wedding dress. EVER. Even the owner of Cicada, Elizabeth who is a friend and who is the one who made my dress for me realized when I could not figure out what I wanted the darn dress to look like. Because frankly, I just wanted to look hot. I didn't really care, never thought about it. But having kids. Being pregnant. Doing the ritual to ask the spirit to come into me. GIving birth. Breast feeding. Comforting my child when sick. Teaching my child how to ride a bike. Making cupcakes. The whole thing. Every second of every possiblity of being a mom, I HAVE THOUGHT AND YEARNED ABOUT IT, MY WHOLE, LIFE. And I am going to add a Goddamnit at the end of that sentence. So, to hear woman talking about their menopause, here its a bit different for me.
But, it is still a common thread.
The day before I left to come here, I made an appointment with a well known acupuncturist that has good results for woman in bringing back their moon. It is my first very, very brave step in not ignoring the fact that I have not bled in months and months. I miss it. I miss doing ritual with my blood. I miss my blood.
I am loving this retreat. There is something to be said about being around a group of people that have had or are in the midst of a life changing profound nightmare. I am understood. There is grace. There are common words, common feelings, common lessons, common everything. A sense of belonging does not exist, but simply a depth of compassion that is hard pressed to find outside of the commonality. I will say though, that I have been incredibly blessed to have a handful of friends and a sister that does get it. That has understood me. And have held my hand, and my tears and my fears as they have over filled my cup and carried me away down stream to a place I never dreamt or imagined I'd be.
I love each of the woman here. I have had a super fun day learning with them. I have met knew friends and am really enjoying the fact that we all have a common thread.
Tonight there was a circle with the groups counselor. She would pose a question like, How does your family deal with pain? Or how did your family and friends react when you told them? Or, how has sex changed since your diagnosis? All questions that allowed each of us to share, and to bawl.
I am realizing that there are parts of me that are still in shock. I just can hardly believe it. And then again, I can totally believe it.

Casting for Recovery

I'm feeling the old writing bug gooshing through me right now. I'll probably start writing often this weekend. To go back about 9 or 10 months ago....And for those of you that are Golden Girls fans....Picture it, it was 2009 I was in my month 3 or month four of laying in bed straight. Sick as unimaginable, sick as sick gets, watching or trying to pass the time, or trying to feel normal, simply to find things to laugh at by watching The Today show. There was a segment on Casting For Recovery. A fly fishing weekend for woman with or having gone through Breast Cancer. That was my bag. I knew it, I knew I had to go. It quickly became a goal of mine. Once I got well enough, I printed out the application and sent it off. I called every once in a while to find out when they were going to announce the prized winners of the lottery style drawing. For months and months, I simply told anyone and everyone that in October I was going to go to this fly fishing workshop. I did not leave any room for the possiblity that I was not going to get picked. I was. That was it.
I DID!!! I got the letter in the mail and I have been looking forward to this day for months. The Washington state workshop is being held at the coveted Sun Mountain Lodge. I didn't want to carpool with anyone. For a few reasons. One, I wanted to cry if I needed to cry. I wanted to sing loudly to any music I wished. I flucuate between Country and AC/DC at any given whim. I also just wanted to be by myself. This vacation, this trip isn't about anyone else but me. Every other crazed adventure I've been on this summer was about seeing family or best friends. This one, just me. For me. About me. To me. Back to Cancer.
Well, Hello Cancer. There you are, I said to myself as I sat in a room full of courageous beautiful woman this afternoon. After we'd all filed in and put on our name tags. FYI, I never ever ever wear a freakin name tag. I first of all don't like being told to do so, and I hate conforming to mundane things like this. But today, I put that tag on, with a little hesitation. But quickly, let it go. I didn't have to worry about people thinking I was anything other than who I am. I could let my name tag guard down, as I and am surrounded by a bunch of woman that KNOW ME. Without knowing me. They love and I love, without a word.
So far, the experience has been wonderful. I have stayed away from any "cancer groups" as I've heard they are usually full of those that are the "poor me's". I can't stand that.
Casting for Recovery seems to have 14 woman, that are adventurous, fun, loving, deep, super fun woman. That I have to get off this computer and go downstairs and have virgin drinks with. haha...
I am looking forward to this with so much joy. As I drove up today, I saw the sign, CASTING FOR RECOVERY on the outside of the lodge, and I just wept. My Tribe was inside. The knew me. I had the image of a hand, and I was in the middle of the palm; supported with knowing and love. I had a doozy of a summer "pretending" to be "normal" and going back to life. THis is a great opportunity to go back to the Cancer Heather, and do the homework I need to do. LIke be with her. She's full of lots of sadness, and joy , yes! I have wallowed in the joy this summer. Anything and everything, I mean everything that was a possiblity, I did it. Seriously. The fun was had. Now its fall. Now its fly fishing ( a sport that is relaxing and one that I can do with just one person) and its time to be still. Its a great intro to begin writing again. Of coarse I couldn't start writing my book until after the adolescent puberty like explosion of a summer, and now fishing...fall winter..
I'm Home. Home is where the heart is. Aaawwww...Heath..there you are.

The tender blossom

Again, I can't believe almost a week has gone by. My intentions are to write, but my priority right now is work. For all those months of laying around, I knew that this day would come, and because of that I am joyful for having a mind, a body, and a heart that innately likes to hum like a hummingbird. I have for the moment, allowed myself to work 10-13 hour days right now. My massage biz is slammed, and my real estate business is the busiest it has ever been. I can't complain about sales being made, with all the doom and gloom of the market around.
May was insane. I finished treatment, I've started coming to life, I've started to see my check bones again, my energy is starting to come back, i'm still on some meds~but we'll cross our fingers that my body is healing as it should, the list goes on and on. My heart is still wide open, and I cry a lot, but at appropriate times now : )
But come June, I have a few weekends off. That I am not compromising for anything. My survivor party/ritual will be the first weekend in June. I am really excited to stand in a circle of all the crucial people that have gotten me through this. It has taken a village to help me, to support me, and I want to look into all of my loved ones eyes and thank them. I am hoping for a lot of tears here. Which is perfect because its going to take place right on a beach, so their tears and mine, and all this icky stuff I've been through can flow to the ocean!
I'm excited to have 3 days off in a row, and hang out and play games with my family. No one knows it yet, and I dont have to worry about it, because my Dad doesn't read this~he can't handle it, and the few that do~shhhh don't say anything, Okay, I'm not going to say. But, I have some tricks and games up my sleeve, and its going to be fun.
So June is going to be more relaxing. I am hoping that this last taper off the steroids is healing to my body. I feel nervous to start running again, so I am going to listen to that nervousness and wait. My goal is June 1st. I've already started doing yoga and lifting some weights around the house, doing lunges, but nothing too much.
My mind is okay.
I learned some interesting cancer knowledge from my Aunt Barbara and my friend Shirley~both breast cancer survivors. They said that that tumor marker test, doc's don't worry about anything unless the number goes above 38. Now this is after treatment, the way they monitor if the doc's should look into doing scans, ect. It is not 100% accurate, and so its just one of the few tools they have.
Okay, so 38 and above sends off the red alert. But remember my number at diagnosis? It was 28. Now 8.8. So what my question to my Onc is going to be when I see him next on June 10, is if I was only a 28, that means that my cancer was really caught pretty damn early? And yes, I will add the word damn. Like hot damn! Like I can't freakin' believe it. This knowledge, if he reassures me that yes, it was caught very early, has and will until he answers my question, and then will continue to ride with me, will flick off my shoulder any demons that would like to harass me on a regular basis of the survivor question, "will I get it back."
The answer in the past without this info, would be a hope not, because I am a realist. I see the potential. But if this is true, then the answer will be hell no. The chances of a nothing cancer, living after the hell I just put my body through, is impossible in my mind.
On a happier note, I've always wanted to learn how to fly fish. And I am going to hear soon, if I got accepted into a Survivor Fly Fishing retreat at the Sun Mountain lodge soon. So lets all cross our fingers right this second for me, okay! Done! I'm sure I'll get in. I can't wait to wear the big hip boots, and be in the middle of the river, hopefully not falling down, learning to act like a fly.