Reconstructing and Running..

Just a little update to let you know that my blog is going to be undergoing a few changes. I'm adding lables so that you all if wanting to read posts on Triple Negative, for example, or posts for Hope, can just click on that word and it'll bring you to my posts on that subject. Please bare with me while I slump them together.Life is full of LIFE right now. I am back in school, working towards my goal of committing my life to young people with cancer, and to help support their families/friends as well. I'm working on my book still. There is much resistance to throwing myself at it full bore. Mainly, the nightmares that come with it, are real. The book is one of Hope and inspiration and I've decided to leave all the gory details here and if folks reading the book want to, they may visit the blog and read all the truth. This is a lot of sharing, and for those that need and desire information or someone to relate to you can now check out posts that are particular to what you seek. Most everyone will not have such a difficult time with treatment as I did. With that being said, my blog is full of inspiration and love for myself, as I learn to love myself more as I face the fight of my life. Please, feel free to email me if you need support or simply want to say hello.

Rugs of Hair

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.

Enough Talk

Well, here I am just finishing 2 years and 22 days of being done with treatment and I still find myself processing what I went through. In fact, I have been reclaiming my New life, My New Normal, and incorporating all that I learned into this new life. But I have yet sat in the pain. I have yet stopped and looked over the crevice. I have been whooping it up and recalibrating. Both were incredibly normal and “right “ things to do for a young woman.
The longer I chose to not sit in a yogic lotus posture, the longer I chose to not sit with the pain that was in my stomach churning and whirling, the longer the snake grew up my spin and has cluttered my mind, my thoughts, my dreams, and now has made this life that I so hummingbirdly love a messy, at times wound driven chaos of superficial thumb sucking fun.
I thought removing myself from city living and moving to an island would do the trick. Oh, the tricks we play on ourselves when we are just crying wolf. How long do we choose to run before we actually walk our walk and know thyself?
As I sit here in my cozy cabin, with a fire that needs to be stoked, and large spring Pacific NW raindrops falling on the roof, with the impending thunder that I can feel needing to break me free from all of my fallacies….
It’s very easy to judge the way I've chosen to “reintegrate”. Whether I was running from the work I needed to do or not, who knows. Who’s to say the work of being and enjoying wasn’t work in and of it self. But, I do know that I need to be alone, or if a man is in my life, make sure he is a King and one that lovingly, respectfully, and honorably can give me the time, and space to heal, and who will love me through that. So, here I am folks. I have been all talk up to this point.

Here I am. Yes, the chapters are etched out, and scribbled and scrawled in a wee bit. The real work will come first in a calm, mindful, sitting position. With Me, Myself, and my Pain. No one deserves to be told what I was told, those words, and those simple words: heather you do have cancer. That shock, the utter despair, I am going to call forth and move forth. I’m ready to sit in the sadness of what was my reality because I am finally strong enough to believe, almost believe that it was a WAS and I am Safe to again Live.

Bloating can be...

Summer is in full swing, and I literally have been home just a few days here and there over the past few months. I went on a motorcycle tour of Italy, Switzerland, Austria, Slovenia, and Croatia..with my new man. Life is so fun. I catch myself playing with my hair and I can actually almost pull it back into the tiniest of ponytails now. This makes me smile secretly to myself. What I found out at my doctors visit last week is this. My ticker is awesome the swelling is not from that. Which leaves it to, Chemo and/or hormones. It is common for a few years following chemo to experience what I am experiencing. They do not know why, but really that is now okay with me. It seems that that is the answer to so many of the crazy things that have happened to my body. "Heather, we have no idea why, but we do know, its chemo induced." Okay, I can live with that. My numbers all seem to be in the awesome range. I'm off, into the sea of living life and enjoying every moment of it.

379 Posts...

You know, its really hard to stop writing here. So, today, as I sit for my latest three month appointment in a room of folks with varying hair lengths and varying levels of anxiety (both partners and loved ones and patients) I sit waiting for my name to be called. I really try to let the scared feelings of "what if its back" stay out of my mind. I am pretty much a believer in my "cancer free" status, even though I have not been told I am yet by my doctor. I haven't been declared NED. Maybe I should ask him today if I am. Or when I get to be. I am here for a few things and a few of them have been driving me crazy. One that started when I ran my 18 miler, my body started retaining water and has slowly kept this up. Last check up I was the heaviest ever in my life, and even my doc was shocked once he saw my numbers..I have been traveling a bit and airplanes are a nightmare for me. For some reason the retention stays for weeks, and does not go away without water tabs. Then I lose about 5-7 pounds in one night, and still my legs are full of fluid. I can feel it, its uncomfortable to say the least, and I want an answer. No more, well...that's just what happened because of chemo. I want to find someone to explain to me, why and how, and then I can rest. Because in this unknown is where the scared, "is it back" feelings go. I start worrying that there is undetected cancer somewhere causing the retention. My latest vacations have been really almost unbearable with this. I swell, and secretly worry a lot. I finally am talking about it. Okay, now I am back in the little room. The room where I've sat with D, and was initially told all about my cancer, the room that I sat processing all the icky stuff that happened to me, the room that I sit cancer free? No one knows that for sure, that is why I still have to come back here every three months..I wonder when I get to graduate to every six months. There is a question about that..that is why he didn't graduate me yet. hhmmm...so I guess my fretting is okay, and maybe its okay to talk to the loves in my life about it.
There is a sense of...I have worried them all so much and talked to them what feels like to me, till they are all cancer blue in the face, and I just don't want to worry any of them. Its been easier to just talk to my cancer therapist about it (she's very concerned and is the reason I sit here today) and just let everyone go back to living their little lives. My life has gone back to a near normal. But it hasn't arrived yet to my New Normal. I am still figuring it all out.
The other thing we are keeping an eye on are my hormone levels. They were very, very, very low six months ago..low as in there is no way you will come out of menopause...but miracles do happen. To starting my moon, and the numbers coming up ever so slightly to my Onc saying, "maybe you are just doing a sporadic sloughing, and still kid...don't get your hopes up." To, know this past month, I've had two moons, and I think last time I was a little nutty. Maybe. I have NEVER in my life gotten nutty with hormones, but maybe my body just got inundated with them and my counts are way up. I am trying to not get hopeful, and excited about this. We will see. What I do know, is that I am living life to the freaking fullest. There has not been one missed opportunity to have fun. I have started opening my heart and falling in love with a dear tender soul, and that feels good and scary and beautiful.
Life is full. Excited to have my Onc walk in and give him a hug. I can feel the tears already.

Living Life

***CLICK on the photos and it will come up larger, if you wish.***

Wishful Endings...

May flowers bring me one year and eleven months from the day I was initially diagnosed. I wrote this posting days ago. I have been sitting with it, making sure it is something I am really ready to do. My dear friend asked me the other day, " are you sad in your decision? I said no." But as I write here, I feel sad. But the sadness is not in the letting go, but in all that I have gone through. I am ready to start placing my energy on going moving forward and writing my book, and living life.

***My friends keep texting me and saying, You are a Marathoner. Wow! I am. I did it. I never let myself think about the whole 26 miles. I didn’t want to psyche myself out. I must say, that I think I could run a fifty mile, ultra-marathon now. With proper training of coarse. But for sure, I am already signed up for another marathon, and my new goal is to run four marathons a year.

I made a little Picasa web album with comments so that you all could see the beautiful place I ended all of this. I cannot think of a more triumphant ending. I was diagnosed at 33, went through fertility treatments, eleven chemo’s, and 33 radiations, on top of experiencing all the wonderful side effects that seemed to be ever present with each bend in the road, and then ending treatment I filed for divorce.

I got knocked down over and over and over. I learned how to not let that take anything away from me. Instead, I learned to surrender to all the twists and challenges and embrace them. I hope my blog will continue to help you woman and men out there that feel alone on your journey of cancer. Whether it is your journey, your sisters journey, or your wife’s journey. My prayer is that my words bring peace into your lives.

I often wrote thinking of some young woman in a little town in South Dakota with no support around her. I wrote to comfort you, to comfort me, and to comfort our families. I am totally done writing here, with the exceptions of posting updates of events I will be speaking at and creating. I am ready to start writing and being there again for the woman on the Triple Negative Breast Cancer Foundations website. This site was one of the most helpful, loving, supportive, and real places I could bring all of my emotions, all of my thoughts, and not be judged.

There will be a new chapter in my life, but first I must close this book, and regroup in the life that I now have worked so hard to be a part of. My life has come to that joyous place that Survivors ahead of me said would come, “Heather, some day you will go a day without thinking of breast cancer. You will have a life back. You will have a new normal, but normal you will have again..I promise.”

Thank you all for your love, for following my journey, and I look forward to hearing from you. Please continue passing this blog onto anyone you think that it will bring comfort, peace, and healing to.

The ever living Ghost of Once was

Its taken me a few days of retracing and dissecting what I learned about myself, from my 20 mile run last Saturday. Happily, and reverently I am thankful I ran out on Vashon Island. This island, as you all know by now, is one of my heart places in this world. Its a safe place for me. A retreat. My sanctuary. I ran from the Northend ferry south alongside the Westside highway, ending my run around a loop that is called the Burton loop. Since I was 17, I have ran that loop off and on, it is three miles from my favorite little coffee stand.

The first ten miles were met by spring's multi-hued palettes of green. Buds pushing out into bright fushcia Salmonberry blossoms. I past a creek that years ago, I had reached after hours of crawling through various tight brambles and walking fallen trees in a ravine miles upstream. Remembering how happy I was to reach the Puget Sound after such an adventurous trek, by myself. I ran past the memories of friends homes, of parties, of stories, of births, of dreams that have morphed into the stories I now tell. I ran past the house I rented last summer to celebrate my one year anniversary. I wrote poems in my head of all these things.

As I run, I break up the long miles into quarters, so every 5 miles I got closer to being done. The closer to my own private victory.

As I reached the little town of Burton, I raised my arms in victory, being that I only had four miles left. I started to cry a little, but had to stop because my lungs hurt with the irregular gasps from crying, when I am already pushing them hard. I stopped for a moment, and looked out at the view of Maury Island (Vashon is connected by a little isthmus to Maury Island) and said, "You did it, Heather."

Running is just for me. It brings me deeper into me. I get to learn how my mind works, how it would like to trick me into stopping. How in the pain (and I am in pain as I run these longer runs) the mind can tell me different stories, all stories that are from past experiences/stories about how I should stop. I travel with these stories, and then imprint new stories. Stories of, "Remember, when you were sick? Remember how bad you felt? If you got through that, you can push through for a few more miles."

Running allows me to heal further. To regain parts of me that were defeated. So, in that moment(s) of raising my arms in victory, I shook my fists..I did it. Victory is so sweet. Growth as a human, is so sweet. This victory is no ones, but mine.

A few of my nearest and dearest will be at the finish line. The symbolism of their support is huge for me. Before cancer, it was nearly impossible to allow myself to receive this kind of support. I was always trying to prove to myself, how I could do everything on my own. How strong I was. Cancer broke this down. I learned how to be vulnerable. I learned how to be soft AND strong. I learned to risk asking for what I needed, and then being okay with whatever answer I got. As I run through the finish line, and celebrate that night with my beloveds, we will be celebrating Life.

I am ready for the marathon now. I am glad I have a few weeks to rest up, and heal from the 20 miles.

A wee side note...I wanted to thank two of my Mom's in this life. Debbie and Kathy, for meeting me after my run. They drove me back to my car at the Northend. But not before retracing my entire run, and filling me up with so much love, celebration, praise, and encouragement. Those hills sure did seem bigger in the car! Your love brings tears to my eyes as I write this. I sure am lucky, to be loved as I am. I will remember this part of the celebration for ever. Hugs.

Faith

I'm down in one of my favorite little towns in California, St. Helena. Today I met up with an old friend, an old friend that we have a deep spiritual understanding together. I would say, my closest friends and I share a deep connection in this way. He was telling me about a shoulder injury he has and that he is heading to Brazil to see a spiritual surgeon, or he'll have surgery in the states.

I looked him in the eye and said, "You are going to need to have real surgery."

He and I looking deeply into each others eyes, and he responded by saying, "I don't know why you are saying that. I am not even going to hear that. I am not going to take that reality on. I am not sure if you are saying that, Heather because Western medicine worked for you, and you chose to go that route."

I started telling him more of my story, and I'll skip most of what I said otherwise this post could be a book in and of itself.

But the jest of it, with lots of tears, was this:

" I lost my faith." To get to where I am now, to go through what I went through, I had to let go of it all. How was it, that I..ME..and again, I got cancer in the first place? I remember blogging about this, but one conversation that occurred frequently was this...some loving caring person (because they always meant well)would say, "You will be fine, Heather. You will make it through this." And I would get really angry inside, and say as loving as I could back, "I will be until I am not." And then they would say, "I believe that you create and bring to you whatever you believe. So be careful what you say." And I would say, " I never thought I was going to get cancer, and I did."

You see, this conversation is on FAITH. Faith in lord knows what. Those of you that are Christian could be upset I just used your lords name in vain. Or whatever religion. Whatever religion you are, any walk of life, in any part of this miraculous planet, we all on this planet are just trying to make sense of what happens in life, and to us. Through faith.

We pray, we meditate, we fast, we walk, we run, we do all these things to help us get through. Because life is hard, and life is challenging, and life sometimes simply does not make sense.

It is easier to put your faith out there, and allow yourself to believe that "some great entity's" will, will be done. For your own good.

I am a deeply spiritual person. And this was one of the hardest things for me, and still is. I realized that Faith, is Control. Control in the idea that we do make our own reality. That we are our own magicians. That we can pray to a deity/God and through our faith, "Let go, and Let God." But this is a form of control, as I see it.

I feel like all the praying, all the seeking is our minds just trying to make sense of all of this life stuff, in reality we have nothing to figure out. Life just is.

For me, I chose to surrender into the unknown. Surrender and in the surrendering I learned to love myself deeper. It all boiled down to that. Surrendering and Loving. In the present moment, that is all I had. I believe it is all we ever really have. The hippie in me years ago, used to say its either Fear or Love. But it really is, just Love.

I have a bumper sticker on my car that sums it all up for me, Love Wins. It does, and through this Love, I will come back to having Faith. Because I do deeply believe I am my own magician. And that I do create my reality. But I do also now believe, that sometimes, stuff just happens. And it doesn't make any sense, and no one can tell you why, or how, or even IF at the end of a long struggle, it'll all be worth it.

There is a sadness in this harshness. I cried a lot today, and have over this many times. Faith is what I have stood behind for years. A mask of faith, full archetypal images, and mysticism...but a mask all the same.

Still Point

Coming to a place of gratefulness. How does one get there? Choice.

Sure cancer stole a lot from me, and during this time of writing I get to go back and relive all of that. But..But..there are a lot of pluses, and movements inside me that I choose to look at. Don't get me wrong. When my sister told me she was pregnant, I mourned. She mourned as well, because we'd always hoped and talked about the day we'd be pregnant together. There is loss. There is grief. I do not think its healthy, nor am I saying to overlook, or to shuffle the loss under a rug of pain.

I just choose to look at the positives. The fact that I am here, to be at my nephews birth. To see life. To be apart of his life.

My life, that could've been taken, with the aggressiveness of Triple Negative. I get to train, and run a marathon, that I would've never done before cancer. My mind and the self-imposed limitations are less restrictive now.

Grieve at your own pace. Feel at your own pace. Simply being with yourself, in and on, your journey. It is a journey. This Cancer Journey. If you choose to pay attention in that way. Others choose to not think, and just get through, and go on living life. There is no right way. I would love to hear from any of you, privately, or in the public comments if you wish..when you do come to your place of gratefulness. This will make my heart soar! I am also here, to hear your despair. Believe me, I am there. In the still point. One side is despair, the other gratitude.

Jen Hoffmann

One of my best friends called me tonight, she lost her sister to breast cancer the same day I finished radiation. We have become very close this past year, through our mutual best friend, Keiko. I have been grappling with the idea of what my Pink Ribbon will read as I pass through my Marathon in Big Sur...actually ending in Carmel. She called me tonight and asked if I'd figured out what my ribbon was going to say. I told her no. At which point she sent me a photo of her sister at the top of Mt. Whitney after her second chemo infusion. She hiked this Mountain and stood on top of it with the sign that read (her supportive husband printed it out for her) and it read....

CANCER SCHMANCER

Those words say it all. And that is what my sign will say.

*uck Cancer....is at the core of it. Is what pushes me when I am hurting and tired. I push through and think of my pain, of what I have gone through. So yes, *uck Cancer...but I don't want to run through that. I want to run through the idea that this is nothing. That cancer couldn't stop me, and nothing can.. I will continue living, and pushing forward...

Hell Yes! JEN HOFFMANN...Survivor that keeps living, in Memory. I will be running through CANCER SCHMANCER.....Thank you.

Jen said in her blog: 8/12/2007::::


Jenn Glickman March 7 at 10:12pm
Clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose...

Sunday, August 12, 2007 by ShawnieMac
On August 10, at exactly 11:44 AM, after ascending exactly 6132.61', (and two days after chemo), we reached the summit of Mt. Whitney under the bluest of blue skies. In spite of all of my recent treatments, we're pretty convinced that the best medicine I've received so far came at 14,497'.

When we reached the summit, after tears of celebration and accomplishment, Greg pulled out this sign he had made before we left (unbeknownst to me). Pretty much sums it up...

Whatever ends up taking me eventually, it sure as hell isn't going to be this cancer...

My last 3 month check-up?

I haven't written from Swedish Cancer Institute in a while, or maybe ever. Chemo took the memory of the past. Driving into the garage, a calm came over me. Pushing the blinking garage ticket button, the arm raised, and I drove in. As I circled my way into the garage, I parked at the same time as another person. A man, and his child. I got out of my car, and looked in his direction. Hoping to catch an eye, an eye of understanding. A Tribal understanding. Walking into the elevator, pushing 1, and going up. Walking through and into the Institue I felt a sense of home. Of a welcoming. Tears started down, and I felt the sadness.
The girls at the front desk remember my name, and handed me my slip with the directions for the blood folks..the infamous tumor marker blood draw..CA 27-? Can't remember. Who cares. Its the test for Breast Cancer, my tumor markers. The test that I will call tomorrow and find out my numbers. I'll mark them down in my little journal, so that I can graph them. Watch them. Live by them, as a cobweb lives in a window sills corner.
As I waited for my blood to be drawn, I look around the room that is full of every kind of person and walk of life. I am nervous now. I was able to keep those feelings at bay until now. I tried calling a few friends before todays appointment, but didn't get in touch with them all. I just wanted to tell everyone that I think today will be my last 3 month appointment. Its February now. In three months, it will be a full year that I was done with my treatment. A full year later, and I will be running a marathon in Big Sur. Big Sur to Carmel. I cannot wait to tell Dr. K this news. I can't wait to hug him, and tell him that I am ready to start being available to young woman who get diagnosed. I came armed with my blog business cards to give him. I am ready to start being a beakon of hope for these girls/woman. To tell them with a determined look, as I was gifted by a Survivor, that they will get through this. They will.
I am going to go now. I want to smile at the folks around me. I want to open myself up to this experience. Feel it. I can't wait to get on the scale.

Time to start living

Survivors ahead of me on the road to recovery said over and over to me, "There will come a day when you do not think of cancer." That was hard to believe. Hard to imagine. I can happily say, with tears streaming down my face, that that day has almost come. So much to say. I moved, and have been overwhelmed with busy life things to get internet at my place. And processing at my office is not the thing to do.
where to start. I'm going to go back a few weeks to my counseling session. I must again state here, how important seeing a cancer specialist therapist has been to my recovery.
I was in there telling her how overwhelmed I was. Telling her all my "USED" to be stuff. I used to be a good multi-tasker. An unbelievable one. I still do more than the most person in a day, but in doing that I have huge anxiety, huge sense of non-well-being, and just not coping well. She said to me, as light bulb went off in my head, "Heather, when you got diagnosed everything became structured around doctors appointments, and chemo, and radiation, ect." Suddenly, the dam broke and I just started to cry.
That was it. I had, with a goddamit HAD to stop everything. I had to say goodbye to my life and stop living it...so that I could get a chance to LIVE again. Wow. It is time to start living again. To stop going through the steps, but actually living. Making plans. I have been making plans. But those plans were sprawled across my mind, and had no connection to my heart. I realized with great JOY, as I grabbed her notebook and pen out of her hands, I NEEDED TO START MAKING MY SCHEDULE!!
I realized that I was safe to do so. I can ease into life. I can wake up, drink my tea, day dream about anything (which is NOT cancer related anymore), get dressed, go work out, go into my office, go do massages, go back to my office, take a walk, eat nourishing food, and go to sleep.
I spent the summer just being a crazed extrovert with no direction at all. This winter, I am sinking into my life again. Actually, just the past couple of weeks. And you know what? The anxiety is gone. I am much more relaxed. Realizing at the sametime, that I still have a ways to go with feeling safe and mentally sound.
That was huge.
The other huge thing, is that I have commited and have started training the last couple of months for the Big Sur Marathon, April 25th. I had decided I wanted to run one, and then I ran into my friend Bridget. She had run this one, and loved it. I looked it up, and smiled instantly when I saw the date. Exactly a year after I compeleted my treatment, I will be kicking cancer in the ass with a marathon. In one of my top three favorite places in the world.
As I train, I visualize crossing the finish line, and breaking my hand made pink ribbon that my sister and one of my best friends Gen will be holding. I started out thinking the ribbon will read, "Fuck Cancer." But then, that is not really me, and have been thinking more on the lines of, "I beat breast cancer". That is not it, still thinking. You all may suggest a one liner for this ribbon for me!! At the end of the day, its going to be a total reclammation of my body, and saying to myself, If I can get through cancer treatment, I can finish a marathon, and I will do it. I am on week 5 of Hal Higgdon's novice plan, and am absolutely loving feeling my body getting stronger and stronger every week. Last Saturday was my big run of 9 miles, and I finished. Slow but I finished, in an hour and 49 mintues. This Saturday is a 10 miler. I am training twice a week with a personal trainer, and feeling very strong. This is helping to decrease my anxiety as well. And very happy to say, my hot flashes, have all but vanished. Except last night, I woke to wet blankets, a major night sweat.

I am doing well. I am healing still. I am learning how to simply live, so that I can integrate all my new learned lessons of self. I am being gentle with myself, and only surrounding myself with positive people. I was in such need during my treatment, that I took help from anyone, now its time to move back to pure joy and light again.

I am becoming whole. I made my next three month appointment during yesterdays couseling session. I kept putting it off, and needed my hand held during the phone call. Its for February 3rd. I will let the scared feelings wait for that day and the next, until I get my tumor markers told to me over the phone. That news and bad feelings can wait for those days. Today, is a day of light and joy, and kicking ass!

Contemplating Sources

I have enjoyed the soul searching of various forms of therapy since I was five. I love looking at myself, in deep ways. I highly suggest for you Survivors out there, to find a top notch Cancer specializing therapist. I find Janet Abrams is a huge source for me. She understands all the medications, all the emotional ups and downs, the fear, the joy, she can hear everything I say, and get it.
What I talked to her about last time is the walking on eggshells around myself that I have been feeling. How I find myself unable to cope with multi-tasking and dealing with life all at the same time since I got cancer. My plate feels full, and I long to be back in the game of life. Don't get me wrong, before cancer, my Dad said regularly to me, "There is no need to stress over it Heather, stressing over it will not change the outcome." Wise words, that I knew would sink in later in life. Like a lot later. Like, as an old lady...a lady in my 60's. A wink, and a hug to those of you at this glorious age ( I now wish, and hope I make it to that age).
So, I got cancer. And lived in the present moment, and got finally what my Dad said. I had to know live my life like that. Do not stress over anything. What will be, will be. I am not a God believer. So, to me, trusting that God will would be done. And even if I was a believer in The One Way, I would not believe God's will would be to have my immune system, that dreaded day be overtaken by cancer.
Okay...so where was I? Oh, yes...back in the present moment. So, here I am presently filled with the now known understanding and fully integrated new way of living of living in the present and taking life as it may. And find myself struggling over how to be done with cancer, how to get a divorce and move gracefully through it, how to be single, how to buy a car, how to do it all on my own, how to run a successful real estate business, and how to run a successful massage practice. There is a lot of juggling that takes place. My massage practice is in peoples homes. So I drive around all day, and in between appointments I am seeing my real estate clients, and or talking to them on the phone. Real estate on its on is incredibly stress provoking. And then I find myself working until 10 or 11 at night again, and look at myself and say, "Now Heather, this is not taking care of yourself." I get that, really I do now.
Besides cancer, besides my health, I am still Heather. And Heather, loves to work. Heather, loves to work and be busy, and I love everyone so much. What more is there than a life of service. Well, that is until I get to be a Mom, and serve them (a blessed day indeed).
I'm straying again. In therapy I looked at my stress and why is it, that when I see a simple text message or get a call, or hear my sister mention something, or how at any moment I find myself not being able to deal? I literally, have freak out inside, and start the process of calming myself back down. ( I have learned how to do this, at least).
I kept picking up my phone during the therapy session, unbeknownst to me, whenever I said the word, STRESS. And finally, I said Why is it that I keep picking this thing up? And then, I had my Ahhh-Hhhaaaa moment. My mind went back to that day, to that phone call. To those words.
Heather, you do have cancer. You need to come down here right now.
Oh, right. And then, I had everything go wrong, and then more during my treatment.
All the worst case scenarios were MY LIFE. For the first time in my life.
I have grown, in the past year and a half, to expect the worst. That the worst case scenario is what very well may happen, and I have been living with that. I have been living on Eggshells since June 2, 2008. That is along time.
Oh. Right. That is the root.
Now that I recognize this, I can heal it.

Morning tea

This just happened, and its kind of funny...kind of. So I thought I'd share it.

I am sitting here in my comfy chair, drinking my homemade chai (fresh tumeric root, ginger root, tons of cardamon, cinnamon sticks, and black tea) and I ran my hand through my hair. Its soft I thought. So soft. Then I found myself saying out loud, "Are you kidding? I did chemo. I lost all my hair. I did 11 chemo. Then I did 33 radiations? Seriously? I did that?"

Falls call

What a whirlwind of a summer. I find myself this fall, having random flashbacks of events from last year. Like yesterday, I was speaking with a friend who has taken a role in my life as a Great-Aunt, and we were talking about the West Seattle Junction Halloween party for young kids. And suddenly I was taken back, to hanging out in my office in West Seattle, at Keller Williams with my friend Kristen and her young daughter. I was too sick, too weak to walk around with them., so I just hung out in the office and watched all the youngsters in their adorable costumes. I was so sick. Ugh! I had lost my hair and I was just trying so hard to "do" something that day. Its hard to not cry thinking of that time. I would not want anyone to go through that. Ugh! I got through it. I am and we are stronger than we can ever imagine. Which brings me to the other day at my Acupuncturists office.

As I laid on her table with all the needles in me, the lights were turned off, and I went into the Savahsana mindfulness, and my Spirit said to me, "Hi, Soldier. There you are. You can relax now. You are safe. Be still." And all I did was weep. But then the needles started hurting so I stopped, LOL. I realized in that moment, that yes, I have had to be a Soldier to get through this. A fierce soldier. A fierce athlete. A fierce everything. Its time to be softer on an energetic level now. But the Soldier keeps fear at bay.

I have been wading through the feelings of fear the past few weeks. Slowly since my ritual, it has begun creeping up and flittering about in my psychic fields. I am safe, in the present moment. That is all we ever know, right? My three month appointment is coming up in a few weeks, but I have been a little panicky so I am going to see my Onc on the 4th instead. There has been a little lump above my scar and he felt it three months ago. But I have felt it again, and it freaks me out. I need him to just do a biopsy of it, so I can let go of any fear around it. Its one thing for him to say its scar tissue, and yes I did just have a free and clear Mammo and MRI, but still...there's no problem with double checking, or for that matter triple checking.

Where the fear also comes from is my initial doc missed my lump. She dismissed it as just a cyst, or whatever it was she thought because she never told me. She simply hesitated over it, and kept going and then said I was good to go. She was the first lesson I learned in that Doctors are just people, practicing medicine. And it is up to us to be our own advocates and I want the lump/scar tissue biopsied, end of story.

I honestly 100% believe the acupuncturist is going to get my moon to come back. My ovaries felt really warm for the past few days, and I just have a good feeling about it. She told me to eat lots of meat, and to stay stress free. Of coarse the Cancer ND's tell me stay away from meat. And my Onc tells me, no red meat, but to eat anything else...except sugar.

Which brings me to my newest thought about this NO sugar diet. Okay...so..if cancer feeds on sugar because it runs faster than anything else in the body. So when you have a sugar spike it jumps on that and has a feeding frenzy like a shark to a nice bloody tuna head. But....that shark had to be in the water in the FIRST PLACE. Just having the bloody tuna head does not cause the shark to suddenly be made and plopped into the ocean.
You are following me right? Eating Sugar does NOT cause Cancer to begin. If I have cancer still after all that chemo and radiation then I still have cancer, in its microscopic form. And the sugar will just cause the cancer to speed up, but not create it in the first place.

So....that is my newest thought.

The anger of Blood

Okay, yesterday as I was massaging I revisited the hard part of my weekend. The hard part being the part that I had the base emotion of anger when hearing about woman laugh and joke about their menopause symptoms. Hell..I laugh about mine. What more can you do right? But in the care, in the safety of others that have been through it, I was able to be in the anger. I say as tears stream down my face. Its not quite time to do a ritual about my chemopause. Because I still am in belief that it is Chemopause, and not menopause. This morning I woke up to my ovaries feeling really warm.
But back to the safety. I could miss the opportunity to get real with myself. But luckily I am looking at it. I want to be a mom more than anything in the world, well...besides getting to be healthy for their lives (of coarse there is a their~I want twins....). This has been the hardest part of this whole, "Heather, you have cancer." Thing. And now its a, "Heather, you HAD cancer." And I just simply want my life to be back. I want my ovaries to work. I want to sweat again. Funny thing at the retreat, I found out that I am not alone with that one. There are others that have never starting sweating in their arms again. I have not under the right one.
So...The Anger..deserves to be capitalized. It deserves to have an alter made for itself. And it deserves to be acknowledge so that I can get to the real feelings of sadness, despair, hope, and trust. I just need to trust. If it doesn't come back, I have those little frozen eggs. And if those don't work...there are lots of fertility options and then adoption...but I really want to have my own, in some form.
I am so thankful for Casting For Recovery. I feel like I have been walking through a jungle to get to a lake, for nine months, or however long its been that my moon went away. Now, I am standing at the lake, just looking at it. And all the feelings that I have about my moon going on vacation, swims in the lake. CFR allowed me the space, the grace, and the ungrace, to finally see myself at the waters edge. Each day, I now need to look for a rock that speaks to this pain, and start piling my rocks into a pile, and talking to the rock that I place there. Sharing my pain, sharing my wishes. I need to let go of this grief. I am scared to. Maybe more scared than anything so far on this journey to health. I have to use all the lessons Cancer taught me to get through this. Time to surrender and to open my palm even more, and just love myself and be with myself. Be with my ovaries. Be with my blood, that circulates through my body. And a famous sentence my Dad always says, that has been so helpful during this past year pops into my head again, "Heather, there is no reason to stress over it, stressing over it won't change a thing."
I am heading out to Vashon in a few hours. I am going to start my rock pile out there next to my favorite pond. Fisher Pond.

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.

Hamster & The Wheel

Learning to live life again is intense. I was "off" for so long, learning so much about myself and just fighting to live, fighting my ego in the process of surrendering actually. I think that is the biggest one I learned this past year, in every aspect, was surrender. Like a cat who is a good kittie who has no intention to suddenly scratch you, but a kittie laying in the sun, on its back with all limbs thrown every which way. That is surrender. The picture I had for myself was the open palm, with curled fingers. And I would say to myself, nope, curled won't do. You must open further, just when I didn't think I could anymore, you find it.
Boring and exciting stuff....I've been working. I've been working too much. I am finally acknowledging this. Why is it that now that I am done, all I want to do is work? Its either extreme really, work or go on a vacation...I got to find the equilibrium with those two tasks.

Since I haven't been writing in this its hard to go deep about some of the great things that have happened. I need to start writing in here regularly. Yesterday I tromped my stuff over to my new house that I am living in. No more house sitting here and there. I unpacked, and am excited to be here. To start my new life. To get into my new routines, and that will allow me to write again.

This past weekend was a lot of fun. The most fun I've had since I was diagnosed. I went to the OCF, and was united with literally 100's of friends. I have always been the kind of person that has tons of groups of friends, so I end up knowing lots of people, and the faire is a lot of fun in that way. The whole idea that we are all connected in some way, is always evident there. As I spend my days running around hugging and catching up with everyone. I loved every minute of it. I got to a place of relaxation there that I haven't felt in so so long. I was able to sleep, which was unbelievable as live music played into the wee morning hours regularly. But I went to bed, (I resisted the temptation to stay up with everyone and chose to take care of myself) and found myself waking up and doing a little dance in my tent under my covers and then going back to sleep when I was touched the music. I finally slept a real nights sleep of 7 hours, phew! And its stuck, I am sleeping normally again.

When I got back I saw a bunch of doctors. I saw my new cardiologist who IS EXACTLY WHO I SHOULD HAVE SEEN a long time ago! I got to talk to my Onc about his referrals of lame cardio's. The lame part is that these other doc's have been scaring me and just guessing. She looked at me and said, "this is not common, but its also not uncommon. You will be fine. You do not have cancer in your chest, this is simply your body having an inflammatory response to the chemo/radiation."

Phew...I was able to breath again. She said I should be better in the next 3-6 months, and that I do not need to be on all these meds. In fact she has already started my taper off the IB profuren. My heart is still hurting a tad, but its good. Next week I go in for a stress eccho. Which is where I'll run on a treadmill and they'll do an echo before and after.

Overall, I have been feeling totally prednisoned out. Very very irritable, very irrational at moments, you got the picture. Luckily I'm getting pretty good at recognizing when I am acting like a maniac, and try to calm myself down. Now this is only possible because now I'm only on a measly 2.5 mg. I am sure this new found ability to calm myself down would go out the window if I was on 20 mg for longer than a few days. :)

I am enjoying connecting with all my friends in the city and vashon again. This is going to be a great summer, if I can slow down. OH! Which brings me back to what the new cardio said. She told me I needed to stop working so hard. She said that the stress of over-working causes my adrenals to be depleted which causes inflammation in the body. So I will try to slow down. Right now I WANT to work hard, not sure why. Maybe its just that I have been storing up for this day. I layed around for so long, I just want to LIVE.

I need to book myself a yoga retreat at Hollyhock or something. I am also going to take advantage of my mornings again. I think if I start later in the day that is better. I can chill, drink tea, go for a run, or do yoga and then work like a little hamster on its wheel. I love the wheel. I do. I just need to have the wheel jump its track sometimes and GO DO something else...regardless its doing something. We always are doing something. Why is work such a bad thing in our society? Why if I work do my adrenals get taxed? That's a silly question. I know how good it feels to do nothing and sink my toes into sand. Did I mention that my favorite secret beach in the city is just down the road from my new house? ( I do not, NOT have a huge smile across my face right now)

In my dreams

Last night, as I slept, I thought about the title of my blog. Heathers journey to health. Mmmm...

Finally, I feel like I AM this tangible road. This past year, I was on it, but there were obstacles at every bend. Like the road out to Hana, on Maui. Over 200 bends, and curves, but along the way waterfalls and sacred places to clear the heart and soul. This year has been full of this. I made it.

I am not sure why I feel like I am now "really" on the road to healing. But maybe its because I notice my body coming to life again. I see my nails growing, my heart opening further, the tiger in my starting to fluff its main and feel the growl (speaking of, I need to do more of this), and I get to call my ND next week and start the cleansing procedure. I get to take trips away, see friends, walk up hills and not feel like I am an old woman gasping for air.

The road to health, to healing, is much longer than I thought. Just like Hana. Next time I go there, I am flying past all the bends and curves, to get to my favorite spots. And I am ready to let this past year, be in the past. Phew! She says with tears.

Another thing I love, is that I get to hold other sisters hands, all strangers linked by a common thread. A friend said to me yesterday that I should do rituals for other woman when they are done. Or help them with creating their unique way of moving forward. I like this idea. Life is so expansive and open. Ceaseless, endless opportunities to grow, to love, and to usher others. I feel blessed to be on this road.