Being as it is two minutes past midnight, my birthday is over. I spent my birthday weekend woth my mom. My dad watched the kids on Thursday night so that we, my mom and I, could go up to their cabin in Northern Colorado. It was nice uo there though we weren't too sure as we arrived in sleet. But, cool weather only makes the fire warmer and hot tea spicier. We sewed all day Friday and walk breaks around the circle. In the evening, my friend from CSU, came up. Saturday, we all three quilted and chatted. Naps and a two mile walk peppered our day. The crocuses are popping up and the deer where grazing on new buds. Sunday, my birhtday and Earth Day, we slept in, sewed a little more, and then had lunch at the Back Porch in Ft. Collins, yum. After lunch, Mom and I attended the retirement party for Dave Yust. I had dave for a couple painting classes at CSU. Through out the years, we kept in touch through the Colorado Art Education Association and attending each other's art openings. I am pretty honored that he has attended so many of mine. Seeing all the art profs, brought back a lot of memories. On the ride home, I thought about all those who influenced me most outside of my family. Teachers. All are my teachers. Thank you.
I also felt a little odd inside about this birthday. It has been tainted three years ago. Five days after my 34th birthday, I had my first surgery in my life, a billateral matectomy. I threw a birthday party, all my friends and family came. We had a boob cake. Well, two boons. One was accidently bigger then the other. But, that was okay because that is exactly what they looked like before they were hacked off.
At any rate, the year following, i threw another party to celebrate my remission. I was done woth cancer and wanted everyone to celebrate with me. The next year, I celebrated again with my secomd stamp of remission from the oncologist after cancer slipped into my brain. Well, so we thought. So here I am, just three years later, celebrating another birthday. But, it is tainted with facts from the past.
Yes, I know, look forward. Yet, it is hard to do. I am exstatic to be celebrating another birthday. Yet, it is hard because my birthday has become a marker of what I can not control. I only hope that I continue to have so many birthdays that the memory of the boob party fades away to a silly little story grandma retells about how she preformed the surgery on a cake after eating the maschito cherries, two of them.
Thank you for all the birthday wishes. I cried a little today, I mean yesterday. And, knowing so many people wish me a happy birthday knowing it marks one more year that I survived this battle makes me feel all that more strong.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
"Well, there is a range in the definition of well-managed metastatic cancer. The question is if the chemo drugs are working. Therefor, the screening for colon cancer is waranted. Or, is it a [shrug shoulders] why bother with an uncomfortable procedure."
The decision was made that I would have my annual colonoscopy as is standard once the diagnoses of Colitis goes beyond ten years...I am fifteen years out. It was much later in the day when it dawned on me what this conversation was about. My G.I. Doctor was gently inquiring if I was told by my oncologist, who he shares more patients with then he would like, that time was up soon. And, to the question I can only answer, no. I don't think anyone knows. I keep fighting the big C. And, I keep getting to the point where I forget that the rest of the world sees me as the young mom dying of breast cancer.
During most minutes in my day with my children and even when I am a lone, I am just living a wonderful life though it is stressful and lonely a lot. I manage just as any woman turning thirty-seven in four days. I stay up way too late folding laundry and kick myself for not loving vegetables more then I don't. It really isn't much different from your life minute to minute. Sure, many of my minutes are spent at doctor offices. But, hey, just as many are spent at soccer games. Sure, I don't look at myself much anymore in the mirror for the changes to my face, the lack of hair for the second time, and my scared chest only remind me that I am not a super woman in the body department. All in all, I have a great life even though I spend too much time thinking about clean toilets when I should be using my true talents.
I am reading the Art of Racing in the Rain. There is a lot in there that resonates. In several places he writes, what you see out the windshield manifests. See, that is what it is for me. I see my grandchildren. So then why do I have to be reminded by the world that I am a very young woman with a very aggressive dissease. Oh, I don't know, and I am upsetting myself thinking about it. All I know is that I have to think about it. And, that dying seems very far away for me today. It is a minute to minute struggle to manifest LIFE out in front of my car that is racing in the rain.
The decision was made that I would have my annual colonoscopy as is standard once the diagnoses of Colitis goes beyond ten years...I am fifteen years out. It was much later in the day when it dawned on me what this conversation was about. My G.I. Doctor was gently inquiring if I was told by my oncologist, who he shares more patients with then he would like, that time was up soon. And, to the question I can only answer, no. I don't think anyone knows. I keep fighting the big C. And, I keep getting to the point where I forget that the rest of the world sees me as the young mom dying of breast cancer.
During most minutes in my day with my children and even when I am a lone, I am just living a wonderful life though it is stressful and lonely a lot. I manage just as any woman turning thirty-seven in four days. I stay up way too late folding laundry and kick myself for not loving vegetables more then I don't. It really isn't much different from your life minute to minute. Sure, many of my minutes are spent at doctor offices. But, hey, just as many are spent at soccer games. Sure, I don't look at myself much anymore in the mirror for the changes to my face, the lack of hair for the second time, and my scared chest only remind me that I am not a super woman in the body department. All in all, I have a great life even though I spend too much time thinking about clean toilets when I should be using my true talents.
I am reading the Art of Racing in the Rain. There is a lot in there that resonates. In several places he writes, what you see out the windshield manifests. See, that is what it is for me. I see my grandchildren. So then why do I have to be reminded by the world that I am a very young woman with a very aggressive dissease. Oh, I don't know, and I am upsetting myself thinking about it. All I know is that I have to think about it. And, that dying seems very far away for me today. It is a minute to minute struggle to manifest LIFE out in front of my car that is racing in the rain.
Monday, April 9, 2012
A glass half full is not empty
Messages come in interesting packages. My chilren have been fighting about fairness for weeks now. Nothing is fair. And, if it isn't exactly the same, then aparently, I owe the other something to compensate. Then it esculates to the one who is supposed to have had more is now jealous the other one is getting something and wants something too. And, by the way, I never said they are getting anything. There are tears, there is screaming, and there is Mommy trying really hard unsucessfully to be nonreactive to the situation. It was so much easier when they were two and three. The toy went in toy jail and the issue was solved. Oh, I miss the days or parrallell play.
During church yesterday, and the children attended with us, Pastor Alan discussed Peter and how he denied Christ three times. So when Jesus returned to Peter, he asked him if he loved him and told him to watch his sheep three times. Peter thought it was unfair to be asked three times. The discussion moved forward to the desciplies conflicting about their allotted roles as followers. One example is that all died a mayrter's death excpet John. And, the question was asked...would dying early a martyr's death after years of struggle be better or worse then living a really long time full of struggle? Which is more fair?
The question is, what is fair whether we are talking about the length of life as a disciple or how many Squeekies and Jelly Bellies you got in your Easter Eggs. So this is obviouly the task I am given as caretaker of my children. How do I teach them that things always work out the way they should? Though they are different, it is fair. How do we get beyond the fighting, competition, the tears? I would love to sing-song through my mornings with children smiling and doing what they are asked. A stay-at-home-mom's dream.
I can not tell my kids that it is not fair that I am the one with cancer. It is here in this world. I rather it be me then my mother or best friend. Then again, I would rather it not be me. It is not fair! Do I blame God? No. Nothing is a hundred percent. If it were, we would have no need for percents and prayer.
Short of blaming me for all means of unfairness, the children just want the best for themselves. They are their own first knight. So yes, I am proud of them for standing up for themselves, for fighting for what they perceive is rightly theirs. Now that they have grown to be strong warriors, how do I teach them to surrender gracefully and accept that a cup half full is not an empty cup? I suppose the same way I tell myself to be thankful I am here today even when I don't feel good or have too many chores to get done. I am here doing what I am supposed to be doing. With patience, my children will find this balance too. See, there is my silver lining. Through struggle comes lesrning about yourself. By learning about yourself, you step closer to self-actualizing. The closer you come to slef-actuallizing, the closer you become to understanding the Godliness in you.
John lived a long life. He was supposed to. He needed the time to watch over His sheep. Some of us are meant to be sparklers and some of us are meant to be stones. A firecracker makes a point in a grand moment of splender. A stone rolls years in the river effecting the course. Neither is perfect. Who wants to brun out shortly? Who wants to roll along for ever? Just as, who wants to be a brilliant light creating ohs and ahs in the night sky? And, who wants to create a lasting impression and effect change?
I am not sure how that answers my question as a parent. I will stay the course as a stone in the river rolling patiently, repeting lessons and examples on dealing with these feelings of jealousy, model by example, and pray. Wow, think of the furture. If they are already grand champions of their needs, when they understand the balance of accepting a half full glass as one that is not empty....
During church yesterday, and the children attended with us, Pastor Alan discussed Peter and how he denied Christ three times. So when Jesus returned to Peter, he asked him if he loved him and told him to watch his sheep three times. Peter thought it was unfair to be asked three times. The discussion moved forward to the desciplies conflicting about their allotted roles as followers. One example is that all died a mayrter's death excpet John. And, the question was asked...would dying early a martyr's death after years of struggle be better or worse then living a really long time full of struggle? Which is more fair?
The question is, what is fair whether we are talking about the length of life as a disciple or how many Squeekies and Jelly Bellies you got in your Easter Eggs. So this is obviouly the task I am given as caretaker of my children. How do I teach them that things always work out the way they should? Though they are different, it is fair. How do we get beyond the fighting, competition, the tears? I would love to sing-song through my mornings with children smiling and doing what they are asked. A stay-at-home-mom's dream.
I can not tell my kids that it is not fair that I am the one with cancer. It is here in this world. I rather it be me then my mother or best friend. Then again, I would rather it not be me. It is not fair! Do I blame God? No. Nothing is a hundred percent. If it were, we would have no need for percents and prayer.
Short of blaming me for all means of unfairness, the children just want the best for themselves. They are their own first knight. So yes, I am proud of them for standing up for themselves, for fighting for what they perceive is rightly theirs. Now that they have grown to be strong warriors, how do I teach them to surrender gracefully and accept that a cup half full is not an empty cup? I suppose the same way I tell myself to be thankful I am here today even when I don't feel good or have too many chores to get done. I am here doing what I am supposed to be doing. With patience, my children will find this balance too. See, there is my silver lining. Through struggle comes lesrning about yourself. By learning about yourself, you step closer to self-actualizing. The closer you come to slef-actuallizing, the closer you become to understanding the Godliness in you.
John lived a long life. He was supposed to. He needed the time to watch over His sheep. Some of us are meant to be sparklers and some of us are meant to be stones. A firecracker makes a point in a grand moment of splender. A stone rolls years in the river effecting the course. Neither is perfect. Who wants to brun out shortly? Who wants to roll along for ever? Just as, who wants to be a brilliant light creating ohs and ahs in the night sky? And, who wants to create a lasting impression and effect change?
I am not sure how that answers my question as a parent. I will stay the course as a stone in the river rolling patiently, repeting lessons and examples on dealing with these feelings of jealousy, model by example, and pray. Wow, think of the furture. If they are already grand champions of their needs, when they understand the balance of accepting a half full glass as one that is not empty....
Thursday, April 5, 2012
And it Ends with...Om.
So we are driving like eighteen hours to San Diego across some of the most baren and beautiful land this country has to offer when I had a thought. What do I believe? We had been listening to various audio books by Eckhart Tolle, Wayne Dywer and Depok Chopra. I think we started one by the Dali Lama. But, if you have ever listened to his audio books, you will know it is too relaxing and monotone for a driver to stay alert. Each of these men talked about looking inward, getting into the gap. This space is where you find God.
If I remember correctLy, Wayne Dywer explained it in the most layman's terms when he was discussing creativity. I could relate to being in the zone, the gap, and loosing all sense of time while I am making things in my studio room when it is silent. Of course, the gap is found in meditation and during prayer. Finding it in these states can take a little effort in letting go of effort. And, I wonder if I get there as often as I could. I have been there and it is better then an orgasim. O, maybe it is like an orgasim for your spirit, you choose. I believe there is a gap because I have been there. I have been devoid of thought and in the space between the pauses. I have seen the colors that seem to burst behind my eye lids that are softly closed. I believe that maybe that I was with God if only for a second. How do these guys meditate thirty minutes in the morning and thirty minutes in the eveving? Oh, that is right, they don't have small children at home. I know, priorities.
At any rate, meditating, being in a creative zen moment, or the spark in you heart when you truely give something of yourself to someone in need are all ways the great spiritual teachers, now I am talking about Jesus, Budah, and those guys and a few ladies from our past, pointed the way towards God. So let us flash forward to grocery shopping at Von's on Corronado Island with my mothr-in-law. This older man, likely a bit snockered, came up to me from the side and placed his stranger's hand on my shoulder. I shuttered. He asked how I was doing like he knew me. Then he went on to ask when my cancer would be over and a short rant about God saving me when I told him I was stage four and my cancer doesn't get to be over. Yes, I said it politely. What I was really thinking is, "Thanks for reminding me I am going to die sooner then later, Asshole. My cancer is over when I am dead.". What bothers me here is the personification of God this man offered. I understand people say strange things out of discomfort and own personal concern or reflection. But, it doesn't make any sense to hear that God is going to make it all better and take the pain away...or whatever...like he is my dad putting a bandaid on my knee. Maybe it is the perspective of dying that I only share with other terminally ill folks and eight-five year old grandparents knowing that my time here is not long that makes me skeptic when I am told God will make it all better.
Now, don't get all depressed. I am just trying to figure it all out. It is all very abstract. One belief I have is that there are signs all the time telling you what needs to be done. Mine have been telling me to speak out about God in the way my head swirls around the abstract essence of spirituality. I have heard it everywhere since my baptism. "Go figure it out, don't fret if you don't fully understand, be one with that, and don't fear judgement as you share your thoughts with others." So here is what I know. I know I can be one with God in the space between the pauses, the gap. I know God can't take the cancer away. I know that being one with God in the gap realigns my electyo-whatevers that make up this physical humaness. And that is what is really meant by God taking the pain away. For when you are in the zen moment and alligned with spirit, there is freedom from your illness and comfort for your tears. And, that all swirls around in my head abstractly exhausting me. Time to put this brain to rest in savasanan...om.
Oh, and friends, when you meet someone with cancer, don't treat them like they are going to die tomorrow. And, don't tell them it is all going to be alright because it is not. It is what it is. So give them your sincere smile of honor, a hug and change the subject. That is of course unless the person wants to ramble on and on. If you can stomach it, listen. Otherwise, simply say, "May I pray for you?" If I blieve one thing, I believe in the power of prayer.
If I remember correctLy, Wayne Dywer explained it in the most layman's terms when he was discussing creativity. I could relate to being in the zone, the gap, and loosing all sense of time while I am making things in my studio room when it is silent. Of course, the gap is found in meditation and during prayer. Finding it in these states can take a little effort in letting go of effort. And, I wonder if I get there as often as I could. I have been there and it is better then an orgasim. O, maybe it is like an orgasim for your spirit, you choose. I believe there is a gap because I have been there. I have been devoid of thought and in the space between the pauses. I have seen the colors that seem to burst behind my eye lids that are softly closed. I believe that maybe that I was with God if only for a second. How do these guys meditate thirty minutes in the morning and thirty minutes in the eveving? Oh, that is right, they don't have small children at home. I know, priorities.
At any rate, meditating, being in a creative zen moment, or the spark in you heart when you truely give something of yourself to someone in need are all ways the great spiritual teachers, now I am talking about Jesus, Budah, and those guys and a few ladies from our past, pointed the way towards God. So let us flash forward to grocery shopping at Von's on Corronado Island with my mothr-in-law. This older man, likely a bit snockered, came up to me from the side and placed his stranger's hand on my shoulder. I shuttered. He asked how I was doing like he knew me. Then he went on to ask when my cancer would be over and a short rant about God saving me when I told him I was stage four and my cancer doesn't get to be over. Yes, I said it politely. What I was really thinking is, "Thanks for reminding me I am going to die sooner then later, Asshole. My cancer is over when I am dead.". What bothers me here is the personification of God this man offered. I understand people say strange things out of discomfort and own personal concern or reflection. But, it doesn't make any sense to hear that God is going to make it all better and take the pain away...or whatever...like he is my dad putting a bandaid on my knee. Maybe it is the perspective of dying that I only share with other terminally ill folks and eight-five year old grandparents knowing that my time here is not long that makes me skeptic when I am told God will make it all better.
Now, don't get all depressed. I am just trying to figure it all out. It is all very abstract. One belief I have is that there are signs all the time telling you what needs to be done. Mine have been telling me to speak out about God in the way my head swirls around the abstract essence of spirituality. I have heard it everywhere since my baptism. "Go figure it out, don't fret if you don't fully understand, be one with that, and don't fear judgement as you share your thoughts with others." So here is what I know. I know I can be one with God in the space between the pauses, the gap. I know God can't take the cancer away. I know that being one with God in the gap realigns my electyo-whatevers that make up this physical humaness. And that is what is really meant by God taking the pain away. For when you are in the zen moment and alligned with spirit, there is freedom from your illness and comfort for your tears. And, that all swirls around in my head abstractly exhausting me. Time to put this brain to rest in savasanan...om.
Oh, and friends, when you meet someone with cancer, don't treat them like they are going to die tomorrow. And, don't tell them it is all going to be alright because it is not. It is what it is. So give them your sincere smile of honor, a hug and change the subject. That is of course unless the person wants to ramble on and on. If you can stomach it, listen. Otherwise, simply say, "May I pray for you?" If I blieve one thing, I believe in the power of prayer.
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