Brrrrr and Bzzzzz and Zzzzzz

Posted on December 8, 2013 by Cynthia

This is my first Saturday that I get to treat like a Saturday in a year. Slept in. Yay!!! Leisurely coffee. Yay! Kitty to the vet to treat her kennel cold and get her on the books. A little grocery shopping and then I’m going to putter the rest of the weekend to prepare for the weekbeginning. Have a Christmas party on the calendar. Last year when I went to this annual gig, I was surrounded by amazing friends who helped me parse the beginning of my cancer diagnosis journey. I still didn’t know I had it, hadn’t even made it in for the diagnostic imaging. Had just found the lump and made the appointment and I was scared out of my wits.* One year ago today. Cancerversary. Oh. Yup. There are the tears. I have such warm fuzzy memories of that night. I felt so surrounded by love and care. So I want to go tonight but I might not make it. After 5pm I really crash energy wise.

Not fatigued but definitely tired and need to catch up with myself after my first week of work. My boss has a printed schedule for me every day and I don’t think he realizes how stressful that is to have every minute managed. It doesn’t feel like a slow entry to me. He schedules in lunch but no other down time. He means well and I think he thinks that as long as there are no web launches, it’s not stressful. Ugh. I might need to talk to him about this Monday. It’s a good thing that none of the “events” last the full time but yesterday they did. It was back to back meetings including my lunch which was a 401k seminar. They provided food but I thought my head was going to explode by 3. I almost had two meltdowns this week. Luckily I was able to stave them off. Some of my sober friends might not approve, but my doctor has prescribed a low dose of anti- anxiety medication to help.

One of the side effects of Tamoxifen is chemically induced anxiety. I feel like I’m in fight or flight mode almost every waking moment. It’s a physical reaction and it requires a physical solution. Thank god for Ativan. He told me I absolutely need to take it before driving because an anxiety attack behind the wheel would be a BAD thing. The dose is so low I don’t even feel it, it simply brings me to a more normal normal. But my twelve step training has me a little uncomfortable with it. I feel like I don’t fit in more than usual these days. I feel like I have to justify this some how. And then my Manticore voice says, girl? CANCER!! Do whatever you have to to survive.

I’m overly sensitive to just about anything my friends say. I’m ready to fight constantly. So I take the meds. But I’m not used to them being the solution so I forget they help. Almost bruised some dear friends last night. Ugh. I really hate this feeling. Taking my meds like a good girl today.

But! We also adjusted another of my meds. Surprisingly my fibromyalgia medication also helps with BOTH anxiety and neuropathy. I pretty much feel like my socks are full of sand 24/7. And when I get up after sitting the pain to walk is rather shocking to me. I walk like an old lady, every step just OW. After 2 days of increasing the dose, there is less sand. Still some and still pain but I’m feeling pretty hopeful about the foot thing. I think working is helping my ankle heal too. Less time on my feet (unpacking has a lot of standing in it) and more walking (to and from the bus twice a day) is helping the healing there too.

All of that said, it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Blue skies, 25 degrees with wind chill to 18. BRRRRRRR.

I hope to soon have the energy for photos again. Camera battery charged, I’m ready. Soon!

I need to get some decaf. That’s what I usually drink but realized that the coffee I had is caffeinated from the Mr. Furnace days (we broke up amicably a few months ago and remain friends). I usually go to Sbux or Tullies and get decaf. So this doesn’t help the anxiety AT ALL but I’ve been so broke from the move that I was making do. Oops! Will remedy today.

Still very much in Hermit mode, even more so really as I’m just exhausted in the evenings after work and need the whole weekend just to be able to face Monday but I’m okay with that. Solitude and hibernating and cocooning and nesting are EXACTLY what I need right now.

Bright blessings as we move towards Solstice!
Cyn

* now there’s a phrase! Scared out of my wits. Pretty much describes the bulk of this year.

Shaman Bound

Posted on November 29, 2013 by Cynthia

This year I’ve heard all kinds of things said about cancer including that it brings gifts. Not everyone agrees about that. Cancer, in and of itself, is decidedly NOT a gift. But there are gifts to be found.

Cultures that have Shaman (what is the plural fer crying out loud? Shamii?) teach us that the Shaman comes to their power through mental and/or physical illness and hardship. It’s very clear to me that this has been my path. I’m not your typical Shaman however. True to form, I tend to reject status quo. Yes, I own a drum. But that’s about as far as it goes. I no longer take psychotropic drugs to induce altered states and back in the days when I did it wasn’t to be a Shaman. I don’t look like a Shaman. I look like a mostly normal 54 year old rocker unless you look closely.

All that said, make no mistake that this has been a year of altered states and a journey of the Shaman. I am walking the path. For myself and for those who didn’t beat the cancer, for those who love us. For myself. For life.

I am not who I was a year ago. Pretty much everything has changed. Yes, many of the people and the job are/is the same but I, my Self, am far different from a year ago.

One year ago this night I felt a BIG HARD lump that I knew was cancer. My friend Erica calls this a breastiversary. I KNEW it. It was a few more weeks before western medicine confirmed what I knew to be true but my instincts were right on. I’ve spent years learning to trust my very accurate instincts and intuitions, giving them validation even when others would not. There was a time I could not do that for myself. This time all the dots lined up. There is a knowing deep within me that I can trust to lead me, through the bright days but definitely through the dark days.

Christopher Walken, on Inside The Actor’s Studio, when asked the standard, “If there is a heaven, what would you like God to say to you at the pearly gates?” replied, “You were right.” I’ve never forgotten it and to this day it cracks me up. I’ve heard it said that those are the three favorite words of humans, not “I love you” but “You are right.” This was one time I did not want to be right. But there was no denying that for once I was so right there was no other way to bend it.

My boss was standing there with me with his hand on my back and my favorite co-worker doing the same on the other shoulder as I spoke with the doctor who confirmed what I knew in my soul already. I blithely went home and started making plans for how I was going to manage this. I prefer to live in the solution rather than the problem and this was no exception. I figured I’d be out for a month for surgery and two for chemo and back by April. I called my sponsor and she said, “be ready to turn over a year of your life to cancer.”

WHAT?!?! Are you fucking kidding me?!?! And here it is. A year. I didn’t return to work in April, chemo was 6 months but nausea was much longer. Radiation… A year of my life. I return to work on Monday. I needed every day of this year to be able to do this. Thank you to my work peeps who had my back, kept my job, and paid my medical benefits.

So, what am I rambling on about? What does this have to do with gifts?

Cancer itself is not a gift. It’s terrifying, debilitating, painful, brutal, and deadly. We all die from something right? I’ve never really asked why me. Why not me? Right? I had some very dark days, there were the days when I sat with every pill in the house in my lap wondering if it would be enough to kill me. But there were days when my loved ones gathered around me and loved me when I couldn’t see myself any more.

On this day of Thanksgiving here in the U.S.A. I thought I would see what I can put on my gratitude list. What are the gifts that I received because I was sick enough to let them in. Too sick to fight anything other than cancer and not myself, not the universe, not Spirit. I was cracked wide open and flooded with love. Who knew.

I’m grateful to be alive first and foremost. There was a time in my life when I was certain I’d never live to see thirty and who would want to anyway? I’d seen others do over thirty and it just wasn’t attractive to me. I couldn’t see my future or an inkling of why that might be a good thing to strive for. Evidently my spirit and Spirit had other plans for me. I’m so overwhelmingly grateful for this life. This one life. It’s been a challenge, sometimes daily, but as I watch this morning’s fog ebb and flow amongst the trees outside my window, the patches of sparkly blue come and go, I feel this peace, this amazing knowing, that this moment is what it’s all about. To just sit and look and maybe, if the ankle would permit, dance. So I’m letting my heart dance as my senses do a reel. I cry all the time. Sometimes tears of rage or sadness but mostly tears of gratitude. Believe it or not, my second thought after “damn it, I was right ” was “I’m so grateful.” I don’t know why but in that moment I was carried and flooded. And I became a warrior, I started fighting with every fiber, every atom of my being, to be here. To stay. Just a little longer please, just a little more time. I need to see the beauty instead of the pain.
Bacon. Oh yes, bacon is cooking in the oven as I write this and my senses are reeling and jigging over that! 4 pieces of thick, juicy, bacon. Thank you, oh blessed pig for your sacrifice. I know it was harder for you than my cancer has been for me. I’m still alive and part of it is because of you and your gift. Sustenance. We are connected forever because of it. Thank you.
Thank you Goddess for my friends and family. Yes, even the very, VERY, few who think I’m crazy or mean. Fighting against that ugly mindset makes me stronger. It brings me, step by baby step, to the realization that those are not my truths and while sometimes they do manifest in me, they are not ME. I am a being of light and love just like you are. We are all trying to survive, thrive, live, in the best way we know how. If you need to think I’m stupid or worthless, I’m glad to have helped. Sincerely. You will find your way back to love, of me and of yourself. For you are lovable and I love you oh so very, VERY, much. For the very, VERY, many who share your love with ME, bless you, for it is how I know I have worth even when the Itty Bitty Shitty Committee decides to hold a meeting in my head and tell me I don’t deserve to be here. I do. So do you. And I love being here, sick or well, happy or sad. It’s the contrasts that bring value and shape.
Nature, I’m so glad to be here, to witness your beauty, your red of tooth and claw, your gently rocking waves and mighty crashing oceans. Your heights of purple mountain’s majesty and depths of deepest, coldest, blue. Your crows who land in the big sugar maple and look in at me, wondering if today I have sustenance to sacrifice for them. I do. Blessed, blessed crow. Mama, in so many ways you are the metaphor for my life. The Upper World, the Under World, and all that lies between, what an amazing blessing to be here. To see the sudden gleam of gems illuminated for a moment in the utter darkness. Flare! Then gone but never forgotten.

I could go on and on but these are some of the gifts that have been illuminated for much more than a moment as I try not to let the ugliness of cancer kill my spirit. While I reach to live and be strong and share this precious gift of life with you.

I am a leaf on the wind, watch me soar.
~ Wash, Serenity

Cancer, Rage, And The Elephant In The Room

Posted on November 27, 2013 by Cynthia

I certainly have no need to post my life’s drama on FB. It’s an adolescent, vain excuse for communication, especially on serious matters. Some folks, however, just can’t help but broadcast their life stories to anyone who will listen, and God forbid they would disagree. But anger and rage are and always have been your default modes. I especially can’t stand self-serving cancer dramas, after watching someone like (Name Withheld) die from breast cancer with so much class and dignity and privacy, never a harsh word to anyone, or anger about her condition. Broadcasting it simply empowers the illness, not unlike the media inundating the public with stories about yet another mass American shooting. And really, not that many people give a shit, deep down, because people get cancer and survive cancer and die from it everyday. It’s an old story no matter who tells it.

I received this from a family member the other day. They were in a lot of pain and evidently my attempt to help and console was interpreted as an attempt to harm. I’m really sorry they feel this way. Sort of. This is just an example of the poison they’ve tried to feed me for over four decades. I used to eat that shit up. It began when I was young and very impressionable. It has taken me YEARS to let go of the words that have been said to me, to change my beliefs about myself that were partially formed by this person’s hatred and poison towards me. Where were my protectors? In Denial. Evidently it IS a river in Egypt.

Did I buy it this time? No. It’s poison of the worst kind and in no way does it reflect who I am. But it sure does reflect who they are. Did it hurt me? Fuck yes. OW. Have I lost sleep over it? I confess I have and last night was no exception. Not because it’s true but simply because they really intended to harm me and that hurt. And I’m losing other people because they are “on their side” of the battle zone. Collateral damages. Will I get over it? Yeah, I will, but there will probably always be a residual pang twang when their name comes up in conversation. I don’t intend to speak with them again but you never know. Things can, and do, change. All the time. But for now my answer is “when hell freezes over and my ass releases pure gold.”

The person who died from breast cancer was never told she was dying according to this person so I’m not impressed by her dignity but appalled by the nerve of her family to lie to her. (If it’s true. This person is a pathological liar.) Evidently she was not told by her doctor and not by her family who insisted that she not be told of her reality. We don’t do shit like that in my world. How fucking dare you think that breast cancer patients should shut up and bear it and not be told their situation. And that that defines dignity! Fucking medieval I tell you. And fuck you too.

This person can say in one minute that they love me and in the next that I’m unlovable. I think they are one of the most damaged people I know. Of course a person full of secrets and their own rage and anger would think hiding their feelings is the right and proper thing to do. And most days I have a great deal of empathy for them. And a hell of a lot of empathy for their family because living with this person is not easy. But the family bears it all in silence. Gawd. Save me from THAT hell. I’d rather have cancer. At least I know what I’m fighting and I have a shot at moving on and away. Oh wait…. Crap. Still got that shot though. I’m here for the long haul if I have any say in the matter.

There is one thing they said, however, that holds a grain of truth. While it is not my default and it doesn’t define me, I am quite comfortable expressing my anger. That is true. Watch me roar. It makes some folks a bit nervous to be around me because this is a society where true feelings aren’t really valued, we have good and bad feelings instead of simply feelings. That tide is changing. But in no way am I defined by my anger. In many ways I’ve held it in check during this journey because I feared that if I REALLY let it out, you all would run and run fast. Make no mistake, I’m fucking pissed about the cancer. Not in a “poor me” kind of way, but in a “I had plans you fucking rat bastard” kind of way.

I’m working on the rage I have inside me that’s been inside me a very long time. I don’t believe I was born angry but I do believe I was born damaged (another story for another time) and that damage left me open to events and circumstances which, because they were left untreated and unacknowledged, created a lot of rage. I do see it and I am working on it but I insist on expressing it. I also believe that anger, if expressed appropriately, is a catalyst to great personal growth and even, dare I day it, world change.

I’ve also had moments of doubt about posting my cancer journey on Facebook. I could have posted it here on my blog (well my old one if you want to get technical and I know some of you do so let’s nip that comment fest in the bud) but chose Facebook because it was set to private and only friends and family could see it. This is very unlike me. But the format of Facebook was preferable as well. Sound bites, quickie thoughts. It was an easy way to accomplish several goals.

It allowed me to inform everyone all at once of what was going on. No more numerous phone calls and emails. I thought it would make my life easier. In hindsight it did not. Folks thought offering advice was okay, folks thought public pity and sympathy was okay (take note of that when commenting), folks thought that their opinions about cancer and how to deal with it was ok. I ended up having to respond WAY too often, explain too often, and I ended up losing some friends because their boundaries were skewed and they refused to honor my requests. Sometimes I exploded in rage at feeling powerless. So yes, I left myself open and sometimes it really fucked me up. But over all the support I received was mind blowing. It wasn’t dishonest, it was loving, sincere, and really, really humbling. A lot of you gave a shit and a lot more. The fundraising party was one of the best experiences of my life. I discovered I had WAY more friends than I thought. Too many to keep up with truth be told. It was exhausting but also very invigorating, very validating, and a god send when I couldn’t do anything but Facebook and Pinterest on my phone. Thank god for my phone and social media. It got me through some very dark days. I’d do it again but with a little more acceptance and foresight that some people will say some weird and cruel and irritating stuff.
Facebook gave me a forum to spread the truth about cancer as I saw it. I really feel that the media lies to us about cancer. It lies to women (and men) and makes them think that if they get mammograms they are safe. You are not, not necessarily. There was truth about food, sleep, sex, cosmetics and other skin and hair products, surgery, scars, burns, self exams, recovering, pain, loss, the big business of cancer and the pink ribbon campaign, and amongst all that heavy, HEAVY shit, that there is also joy and humor and frivolity. And love. Always love. Did I unburden myself in a semi public forum? Yes, yes I did. And I’d do it again. I believe that this person only knew about it, however, because they used their family’s friend status with me to spy on me.

Do you think me so low?

My lord, you creep along the ground.
I met other, awesome, cancer survivors. We shared milestones, tears, information, love and strength. Experience, strength, and hope. Can you dig it? I can. I’ve made some friends where I never expected to, when I needed them most, just in the nick of time.
I’m a writer. I know some folks think that writing about their lives is frightening and or stupid and wonder how I could do it. I can’t not do it. I was born a story teller and the only story I know is my own. It’s what I do.

That’s enough for now. I had to get that out of me. I can’t let things like this poison me, or stay inside, eating at me like, wait for it, cancer. That shit can kill you! I’ll probably never eat squash or sweet potatoes or other certain cancer fighting foods but I can make sure I don’t let my anger seethe within me and kill slowly. I am going to let it out in the healthiest way I know how. By telling my story.

Brightest blessings and TTFN,
Cyn

P.S. This is someone I love. A lot. They’ll probably never forgive me for writing this so I understand I’m burning a bridge but I must take care of me from now on. Your mileage may vary.

I’m Going to Fly Anyway

Posted on November 21, 2013 by Cynthia

I’ve done a lot of thinking lately. On Thursday, November 29th, 2012, I discovered a mass in my right breast that I just knew was cancer. An official diagnosis that I was correct came on the winter solstice, Friday, December 21st, 2012, just before I was leaving work for the holiday. A lot has changed since that day and I’ve had a lot to think about.

It’s been a veritable roller coaster ride. I hate roller coaster rides. Just hate them. Hate having my stomach in my throat, especially after chemo.

The valleys have been brutal and more than once I thought that the battle just wasn’t worth it. The long slog back towards health and work overwhelms me still. Last night was another low valley with no sun. I decided to close all my blogs and stop the extra work that blogs are. And then I picked up a new book to read…

Finding Your Way in a Wild New World by Martha Beck

I decided to fly anyway, any way I can. The barriers are lifted. I’m writing this for me. You’re welcome to join in. I’m no longer going to focus on any one thing such as medieval costume, paganism, or this and that. I’m going to tell my story. I’m going to write my book. The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. The steps will begin slowly as I’m still getting my feet under me and that is crucial to stepping. I’m not going to hide behind flowery prose. I’m going to say words like fuck. All the time. And I’m going to fly.

STEP

Winding down and ramping up

Posted on October 20, 2013 by Cynthia

Whoa. Things are suddenly moving very fast. Mom’s apartment became available so I started looking for a place. I posted on Facebook what I was looking for and found the PERFECT place in an hour. Now that’s what I call manifesting!!!

I’ll be moving in three weeks. One friend is donating boxes and supplies, three more coming to help pack. Thank goodness a lot of stuff is packed already as it’s been in storage for 5 years. Holy Crap. 5 years!