More Time Off

Yes, it is happening again, I am heading out of town for a bit (I am off to a leadership retreat in California - out in the woods somewhere, being deeply transformed, and all that good stuff), and won't have access to a computer until my return (that is provided they let me across the US border, otherwise I will be back and ranting about it in, well, no time flat, so wish me luck, for all our sakes). So sit tight, I promise I will be back, and hopefully all fired up and full of new inspiration.

Have a good week and a half, and enjoy my birthday, and I will "see" you in soon.

What's So Great...

About my aunt? Well, let me tell you. She always tries to see what is good in life. To hold to an upbeat perspective. She is willing to try anything. She is courageous (she followed my mother to Canada, and set up a life here for herself and her daughter). She knows her mind and what she wants (have I mentioned she has a sheep farm, I mean who creates an Icelandic sheep farm in Canada besides someone who knows their mind and what they want, and is courageous). She really cares about her family, in the best way she can. She is passionate. She is open minded and spiritually curious. She is willing to learn. And so many more things. She has a big heart. She is open to sharing and asking for help. And, well, the bottom line is that she is a great lady. I am so happy to have her in my life. She was like a second mother to me, and took care of me and cared deeply for me.

Today I spoke to her directly. The first time since the news. She sounds so great. So positive. So present. We talked a lot, mostly about the lessons that come from cancer, and about the changes that it demands. She seems willing, even a bit excited, about what has to be done in her life so that she can move to a place of really fighting for it, and really enjoying it. She told me that she plans to model her approach after mine, both in terms of treatments and attitude. She plans to fight the cancer with everything there is, and everything she has. And while this all makes sense to someone listening in, well, for her to be saying this just days after her diagnosis, well, it’s big. And I honour her for it! I am not worried about her, and her chances of survival, with this attitude, she can and will move mountains. You go get ‘em!

Stopped In My Tracks

So there I was, loving life, loving being alive, loving that my birthday is coming up (that would be Saturday, for those of you not in the know yet). You see, I love being a Leo and so I celebrate, not just one day, not just the week of, or even a week to either side. No, I celebrate all Leo season long (and my friends might say it is a very loooooonnnnnnggggg season). And I love birthdays in general, and I especially love my birthday. I have made people celebrate me in all sorts of ways, from writing me poetry, to taking the day off work, to making video taped recordings of themselves telling me what they love about me, to giving me a group massage. I know how to self indulge. And apparently I know how to make it so compelling that people play along (maybe that is really because it is just one day in the year, and for all I give the rest of the year they are willing to take requests for this occasion). I also know how to celebrate. Celebrate me, celebrate success, celebrate live. I have heard this is unusual, and it boggles my mind. I mean why do stuff if at the end of the stuff you aren’t going to pat yourself on the back and say “Golly well done!!! You really do ROCK the house.” I mean honestly?

Here is the other thing I love, and was loving especially much today. I love being alive. Love it. And so I should, I fought hard for it. And here is how loving it manifested. I was skipping through my new local organic natural food store – Capers, buying whatever the hell my heart desired because, you guessed it, my birthday is coming up, so I need the fridge stocked with whatever I could possibly want. And I was smiling away at everyone, and engaging them in conversation, whether they knew they wanted to be or not, and telling people to go for it when they seemed to be waffling about a purchase choice, and a whole myriad of other things. And it was just so darn FUN. Being alive was fun. Choosing what I wanted to eat was FUN. Shopping was FUN. Letting myself have whatever I wanted was FUN. Connecting with my community and surroundings was FUN. It was all fun. And it was fun because I saw it that way. Nothing was a bother or a hassle, because I wasn’t looking from that angle. I WAS CHOOSING JOY. And god did it feel good!

And as I took my exciting groceries to my happy, red car, smiling at small babies and their mothers along the way, dancing through my street, minding my own business, well what should happen to me, but BANG. It struck me. Five years ago today I was doing my second round of chemo (and what a hard round that was). I was bald and I was scared and I didn’t know for sure if I would live or die, or even which one I wanted, no scratch that, I was always clear on that piece. I stopped and I cried. Really heart rending tears. What juxtaposition. This very scared and this very alive, happy and vibrant. And the knowledge that it was the one place and feeling that gave me the option to have the other was very humbling. And suddenly the trees looked even greener, and the sky even bluer and the lazy heat of the day felt like an embrace instead of an oppression. And I thought to myself “Thank you Goddess, thank you Goddess, thank you Goddess, for giving me back my life. May I do your bidding today and always.”

The Power of Love

Quick aunt update… so, from what I hear second or perhaps third hand, the cancer my aunt has is very rare. It is a sarcoma. It was in of /in the soft muscle of the interior of the uterine wall. And, fortunately, her GP listened when earlier this month Stephanie went in and said “something is not right here, this fibroid is getting bigger by the week.” Apparently the prognosis is good, and the medical team will meet later this week and come up with their advise for (or if there should be) any follow up treatment(s).

Tomorrow my aunt goes home (although she does assert this has been a great vacation from all that needs doing on the farm this time of year). But she is not allowed to walk up stairs, drive or lift things (owning to the incision as opposed to the cancer, in case that had you scratching your head).

Stephanie specifically asked my mother to tell me that she feels very grateful for all the good thoughts that everyone has been sending. She feels it and knows it. She said “I am very sure of the impact of the love, I feel a lightness around me.” She is very committed to staying positive and upbeat (a woman after my own heart). She knows that everything that can be being done is and this gives her strength. She will keep thinking positive thoughts and continue in good humour.

The other really noticeable thing is how great the hospital care has been! The staff is excellent at Kingston General Hospital, more like neighbours stopping by for a visit than health care providers. They are nice and they joke with her and connect with her. It is so different from the usual hospital routine and what a good model it is!! We all feel certain that this environment had helped her to heal. Medicine and health care the way it should be I say.

Finally I have pointed my aunt (through my mother) to burdock and dandelion tea, castor oil packs and adding more blueberries, ground flax seed and almonds to her diet. We are committed to fighting this with everything we have!

Thanks for your ongoing thoughts and prayers and love. They are making a difference. And have the power to heal!

Urgent Prayer Request

Have I used the word epidemic before now? Have I put it in capital letters (EPIDEMIC)? Have I put expletives and various symbols around it (@%**!#EPIDEMIC&&%#!?!)? Well get ready for it, because I am about to. What the hell is going on!?!?!?!?

Ok, no, refocus. There is something more important right now that the rage I have for and at this disease. And that is the fact that my aunt Disa (who has, by the way, not just given me permission to request prayers, but been quite enthusiastic about it – mind you, she is knee deep in morphine right now, post surgery) underwent surgery on Wed (which is a part of why you haven't heard anything from me lately, I have been a bit distracted), for what they thought was just a fibroid, and it turns out there was some cancer there. Seems the cancer was sort of hiding out underneath and kind of behind the fibroid (like is cancer starting to develop a brain or something, I feel like I am in some creepy Alien movie where the monsters don’t just have big scary teeth, but they actually are plotting things, too gross to consider) so they didn’t even know that is where they were going. They had to call in a cancer specialist and they spent an extra 3.5 hours over what they were expecting to. The good news is they feel confident that they got it (tentacles and all), and now we are just waiting for test results and the some suggestions for future treatment.

So here is my request: prayers that they got it all, that it was contained and not on the move, that it was low grade and early stage, that it is not an aggressive (or cunning) form of cancer (they suspect that it is either ovarian or cervical), that she recovers from the surgery easily and smoothly, that the suggestions of further treatment are humane and easy, that she has an easy time making decisions, that she gets all the help she needs with all the tasks of her life (not to mention some half decent food in the hospital), that they stop this mother f**ker in its tracks (oops, clearly my rage is close to the surface!!!). Prayers for her state of mind, may it be as peaceful as possible, and positive and optimistic. Prayers for her husband, her two daughters, her sister (my mother) and all her other family and friends, that they can dance with what is happening, be as supportive as possible, and get the support they need in order to best be able to support my aunt. Gee, I clearly want to cover all the bases. So, maybe I scale back and say… prayers they got it all, prayers for her state of mind, prayers for the highest good. And please feel free to pop her on any prayer circles or lists that you have or know of. Let’s get this precious, special lady all patched up and back to her farm.

Thank you, knowing that you are on the job helps to ease my heart! And I will keep you posted as things progress.

Hospital Food - Ugh

Oxymoron at best that. The stuff they give you to eat, to sustain you and heal you, in your average hospital is not fit for beasts. My experience of it so far is that it usually falls into one of two colour ranges: white and brown (chocolate pudding, coffee, mashed potatoes, gravy, some meat resembling thing,etc). Ok, when all the books seem to agree and all the recent studies are talking about the more colour and the richer the colour of a food (for example – blueberries) the better it is for our bodies, then why oh why, dear God, are they serving “hospital food” that is colour less (essentially).

Well the truth is we know why. To save money. That is also why they ship it in from foreign cities (my aunt who will be having surgery in Kingston tomorrow, please send her powerful healing thoughts, will be getting her food from Ottawa, from what I am told), which inherently suggests that it is not fresh food. It is not even freshly prepared food, perhaps just reheated. Egads! Gadzooks! Why are we trying to kill their patients? Oh right, we already covered that ground. To save money. But how do we save money if all these people can’t recover well and have to stay in hospitals longer, or if they have recurrences or relapses, or we are killing off another part of them that is affected by the poor diet. Oh, it could drive me to… eat chocolate pudding. It all seems so fruitless (literally), so counter intuitive, so illogical.

My extreme self-care solution was to ask friends and family to bring me REAL food while I was in the hospital. And I am sure it made all the difference (well, maybe not ALL the difference, those prayers and good thoughts might have helped a wee bit too) in my speedy recovery. But that probably isn’t viable for everyone. So what do we do as a system at large in an effort to make this work better? I know there is some experimentation at Mount St. Joseph’s here in Vancouver, where they are making good fresh food with good fresh ingredients. Is it working? How do they measure that? And how can other folks learn from it? Because I will tell you this, we are killing our people with what we are feeding them in the hospitals.

I recall once taking a class with a herbalist and she jokingly said that often people walk past the very herbs that they need to help the on their way to the pharmacy. A year or two after that class I was walking past the emergency entrance at VGH and noticed that there were these hyper, overgrown, massive dandelions just outside the door. “Whoa” I thought, “clearly we are a society in need of liver detox.” Well while I know it is not the answer, I sometimes wonder if we wouldn’t be better off making a nice, big salad with all those healthy greens (not that these ones would have been, sucking in all that exhaust from the ambulances) and letting it go at that. Never mind. Back to what are some other solutions? Any suggestions are good suggestions! Bring it on!

Vacation Bound

Not a real, long, fun vacation... just a few short days, and then leading another workshop for CTI. This time back east (which is funny because my parents will have come west and be staying at my place while I am away). But, as I promised myself I will leave off everything, including blogging, while I am away (unless I come across something I absolutely NEED to rant about). A break, a rest. Some self care. Some fun. So with that I wish you well, and I will see you on the other side, probably within the week.

Ode to Debbie the Chemo Nurse

Not an ode really, but you know where I am going with this. You hear me rant a lot, and it is because there are lots of ways to streamline and improve the medical system. There are always ways to improve every system, it is inherent in having a system really. You need a system to start moving forward, which in and of itself is a Great Thing, and then you need to learn as you go and keep refining. I am built for refining things (another way to describe this, and many a former boyfriend has, is that I easily see what is wrong, not necessarily so good for a relationship, but great for a system), which is why I am so good at ranting. But today I want to highlight a great thing in the form of a great person, and know that when I am doing that, it is really where I am pointing the system. To it’s own greatness.

Debbie administered my chemotherapy for round 1 and 2 (of 4, she was off with an injured arm for my 3^rd round and on her honeymoon for my 4^th round, and I know this because, trust me, I asked for her personally). Simply put, she is an angel disguised as a nurse. I start crying just thinking about how loving and caring and totally present she was with us (that would be me and my two support people). She didn’t miss a beat, she really heard me and she did what she could to alleviate my fear and pain. Let me slow that one down because it is so important: she didn’t just try to alleviate my pain, but also my FEAR, she tried to alleviate my mental pain (that being fear), she was concerned with my whole well being, all of me. There is the ticket right there, me thinks! And she did it without condescension or coercion. Her graciousness still astounds me. Now, yes, it is her job to take care of me, but it is also her task to “get the job done”. But the way she did that was what made her so different. She didn’t lose me in the process of getting the job done, she left me intact. In actual fact she made me more whole than when I arrived. Surely that is the real job. If I can hone in on what it was that was exceptionally special (which is hard, since so much is so great about her), it was the being present, totally present. She didn’t try to make me not have feelings, rather she honoured them. She didn’t try to get me to do things at any pace other than my own, she trusted my schedule, she trusted me, she knew we would get the job done. She was gentle, and respectful. She was helpful and caring.

And she remembered. During the second round (and I wasn’t scheduled to have her for my second round but after they gave me a nurse in training who wasn’t very good at administering needles, and was feeling uncertain and insecure, and so wasn’t listening to me, and had called in two other nurses to deliberate about whether or not they should put in a permanent needle line into my chest, “hello is anyone going to consult with me”, to the point that I was standing up on my chair, voice raised, panicking and declaring that I was now done with chemotherapy. It was at this point that they offered me a later appointment with Debbie, and I, not surprisingly, accepted), when I unwittingly (in fact, there were no wits anywhere near me since I had to take a double dose of Xanax for my second attempt at chemo) again mentioned that I liked the colour of her thing-y that wraps around my arm to redirect the blood flow to the lower half of my arm (it was a beautiful red and hot pink and orange), and she said, “yes, it is the colours of the goddess”, and I knew we had covered this ground before. And I felt precious and important to her, and yes, loved. She remembered and I felt held and safe and like everything was going to be ok. I could relax a bit (and relaxing really helps in those sorts of situations) and let her do her job.

I have probably only spent a total of 4 hours in her presence but those 4 hours changed my life (I guess in many ways, like, you know, having one). Those 4 hours had me know that human life is precious. That people who don’t even know you can care for you and take care of you, in a way that has nothing to do with any money exchanged. That you can trust strangers. That God is alive and well and living inside the human heart.

I don’t know the magic formula that make Debbie so great (that said I could break it down and figure out the key things, I suppose, and it may well be worth it, in case I can take this show on the road and teach the emotional intelligence stuff to the health care providers that might be missing it), and maybe it was chemistry between us and different nurses work better for different patients, but she saved my life that day, both those days, and she made my life worth living, because I learned that there is a heart in the medical system and that it can work. In fact it can work wonders. But not without the people. I couldn’t work if it was just machines and just chemicals and just scalpels. God needs to have a face.

The Newest, Craziest Birth Control Pill Yet

It brings a whole new meaning to the expression “just take a pill” (am I dating myself? Well, I am certainly not dating anyone else, so why not date myself). YIKES. I was reading an article (unfortunately, for some reason the Globe and Mail won't give a whole article, not sure if they are just cheap, or don't want to be refered to, but anyway, you have the date and the title you can look it up some other way, or I am sure some other, more generous, paper has written on the same topic) in the paper the other day that they have come up with, or perhaps even approved of a new birth control pill. The “advantage” of this pill is that you can take it every day of the month, every day of the year. So I guess you don’t forget to take it, ever, since it is an every day thing. Ok, I can see why that is useful. BUT, at what cost? At what cost!??!?!? YOUR BODY NEVER, EVER (because it is an everyday thing) GETS A BREAK. EVER. How can that be good!?!?!

In the past the pill is taken 3 out of 4 weeks (for those unfamiliar with the details). On that fourth week your body gets to rest. That is when you get your period. With the new pill, you don’t get your period, ever. I suppose some women will say, “Great, it was a nuisance anyway.” A nuisance? Sometimes I feel that the fact that my body needs to eat is a nuisance. And the fact that it needs to sleep is too. I wonder if I will ever feel that the fact that my body needs to breathe is a nuisance? I guess if that day comes I really should stop breathing and let it go at that. These are the things my body does. My body does them naturally. It is the way of a body to do them. It has worked for thousands and thousands of years. Why exactly are we messing with it? Oh right, because it is inconvenient. Inconvenient to have bodies. Inconvenient to support our bodies. Well, if you don’t like it you don’t have to have one. There is another option.

Wow am I ranting on this topic. So let me tell you why. While I have no proof, or no specific reason to believe it, I feel fairly strongly that it was my taking the birth control pill as a youngster that set me up to get breast cancer years later. I remember as a teenager that my body went wonky after I started taking the pill. Specifically my breasts. They became so tender between ovulation and menstruation that it was completely out of hand. They hurt so much I didn’t want to have sex, which kind of defeats the purpose of being on the pill. Even when I went off the pill the damage had been done, and things never returned to homeostasis. Was I surprised when I got diagnosed? Yes and no. It is always a shock to be told you have a life threatening illness, especially so young. And I had always felt the shadow of that youthful experience, wondering if and when I would have to pay the price for that choice. So yes, I rant when it comes to the pill. And this new piece, oh so rant worthy, in my books.

That said, there are studies and research that refute what I am saying, such as one sent to me recently by a friend (second piece down). And, if I had high speed at home (which, by the way, I am about to get) I would do some googling and do my own research and I am sure I could come up with pieces that support my angle. In the end we can only ever do what feels right for us and our own bodies since scientists now seem to be for sale to the highest bidder (I realize that is not true for all scientists, but how does one tell them apart, it is not like sniffing a cantaloupe, hoping to discern the ripeness of a report). But darn it all if I don’t chaff at the idea of young women, who don’t know their bodies well yet, and don’t necessarily respect the value of allowing a body to work in its own way, in its own rhythm, being offered a product that makes them more like a man, for the sake of convenience. AAARRGGGGHHHH!

Oh, and back to the key point here, it is not that I object to the body not bleeding, I suppose that might be ok, not that I know the science of it (although the emotional release before bleeding seems like a good idea, otherwise, what? will it just all build up and we will explode, that doesn’t seem good to me, like there are safety valves on some pieces of equipment, letting off steam pre-menstrually seems to me some what of a human safety value, it protects us all from a huge meltdown catastrophe), rather I am concerned about the body not getting a break from the huge hit (apparently 4 to 5 times the amount that the body naturally produces) of hormones when on this non-stop pill. There are clear studies that show that women who are estrogen receptor positive (ER+) increase their risk of getting breast cancer if they expose themselves to greater amounts of estrogen. To the point that if I woman is discovered to be ER+ after her breast cancer surgery, if she is pre menopausal they will also remove her ovaries, because they are producing enough estrogen to put the woman at risk of a reoccurrence. Ah, but the pill is pumping in 4 to 5 times the amount of estrogen than your ovaries do. But don’t worry about that, I am sure it is fine. Never hurt anybody. Well, not anybody that is still alive to tell the tale. Another, great big AAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Ok, that is it, I have to stop writing or I won’t be able to get to sleep because I will be just so wired up. But think about it, before you just pop a pill to make things easier. Easier for whom? And, will it be easier in the long run?

Is This The Life I Fought So Hard For?

Something’s gotta give. And please let it not be my mind. I feel like a pack animal carrying the load of my life around. Which makes no sense because all of the things that I am up to are so great, and so fun and so exciting. But I don’t have the time to enjoy them. I barely have the time to breath. And while I like a bit of this crazy, busy thing, right now, it is getting in the way of living.

I am not even sure where to start the process of prioritizing. Do I want to focus on most urgent? Most fun? Most important? Most impactful? Most meaningful? Or should I just have a moratorium on new projects until September? And while a great idea, it does not solve my right now problem. No doubt this will be resolved, it always is, but this time I want to slow it down and look at it. Really notice what happens. In the hopes of making different choices in the future.

Here is some of the problem. This is not the life I fought so hard for. Mostly because I don’t know what that life is. I don’t know what that life looks like. I never took the time to envision it, to get clear on what I want (apart from fun and busy), to craft the space and hold the energy until I found it, or it found me, or something of the sort. That is something I want to work on now, but that is easier said than done. It is one more thing to put on my plate (now there is a set up). And frankly not easy to do as a self guided project without accountability to someone. So we shall see where it goes. What help I draw in. And where it takes me.

What I Can't Be With

So I know that I said that I would write about this new crazy birth control pill in a couple of days, and trust me I am burning to speak my piece about it. And I know that a couple of days has been and gone, and well, I haven’t written. So, to start with, here is my learning about that. It doesn’t work for me to assume that I will be writing on the weekends that I am leading my CTI workshops (I mean if I do, that’s great, but building it into my life is too hard, and hard is not what I am about, especially when what I really need is down time). So, from here on in, even when I am leading a coaching workshop at home, I am going to cut myself some slack and either just write about what is present for me on a given day, or not write at all. There it is, my newest declaration of self-care! Yay!

Now, on to writing about what is present for me today. In this weekend’s workshop we get the participants (and so I can’t help by take a look myself) to explore/investigate/delve into WHAT THEY CAN’T BE WITH. And here is what I noticed about myself. ONE of the things I can’t be with is DOING NOTHING. And it shows up left, right and center. You see I can’t be with boredom, and inactivity, and well, doing nothing. I am so about being busy and getting things done and being on the move that I over commit, have too much on my plate and get overwhelmed. The ironic thing is that because I am so maxed I stop being able to plan things or get it together to take on new things, and eventually my mania grinds to a halt. Then, you guessed it, I get to be with doing nothing, because all my friends, who have become used to me being unavailable have made other plans or gotten busy with other things. But instead of sitting in this doing nothing place and exploring it and deepening my relationship with it, well, not deepening, actually just developing any kind of relationship with it, I ramp it up again and get… you guessed it… busy.

Actually, this is how I dealt with cancer too, I got busy, really busy, with the doing of it, and the trying to fix things and change my situation. New diet, see doctors, exercise, read books on it. It didn’t help much. Didn’t change what was. Just kept me from feeling with really needed to be felt. Eventually, after all the cancer treatment was done and gone, but I was still stuck in the terror and the panic and the thinking, well, from that place I finally started REALLY being with what was there, and sitting in what first felt like boredom, but turned out to be the most healing 2 or 3 months of my life.

Here is the other thing I noticed, this aversion to DOING NOTHING can serve me (and others). I so can’t sit around and do nothing, not when there are mountains to be moved, and things to be said and perspectives to be changed. Now that doesn’t mean I necessarily work fast on those things, but I drive myself, night and day, can’t rest, am open to criticism and berate myself for not doing more (because while I am doing what I can do it feels to be me like I am not doing enough and therefore am doing nothing, even when, frankly, that is not the case). It is an interesting other angle to look from, even though the piece is the same: my desire to avoid this doing nothing, well, it runs me, and I need to get ok with doing nothing, in order that I can be at conscious choice about it instead of on auto pilot. So we shall see what awareness creates around this. Awareness and acceptance.