Faces on Paper 

The thing about feelings are they ebb and flow like the tides. One moment I’m ok. Having a good day. Doing fun things. The next I’m just something else. 

I wrote the post below in one sitting. After the purge I felt better went out had a great day with my family. We are down on the shore at our new cottage. I Sat on the calm bay during an eclipse that was anti-climatic here on our longitude and latitude but the serenity in the bay was medicinal as always. 

I’m trying to piece my way through these shift that I am experiencing. During the “normal” times where things feel more I balance I wonder if I am being over sensitive to the feelings I’m having.  But that’s the point my senses feel what they feel when they feel it. Body and soul. We have to honor what we are feeling. It’s so easy to push it away. I want to. But I’m also aware that this is a season of change and I will have to navigate it and face it   .  

So below is what I wrote two days ago and there has been an ebb and a flow again and again.  At some point maybe I will feel on a more even keel again. It been a long four years.

……

I sat crying in the shower -it’s a good place to cry. Hopefully nobody hears you. 

My sense of a numbness and a loneliness began about four weeks ago. It had be creeping up before that but it reared its ugly head in mid-July. A sense I wasn’t living my life, like I am living outside it it sometimes – a sense things have changed. I felt everything  is off kilter. Would it right itself? Will it? 

In the shower I felt the need to write. My words always form in the shower. Then I have to jump out dripping wet and run to type it all out. My words are never as eloquent as they are in the shower. The shower breaks me open sometimes. A cleaning of the body and opening up the soul. 

I think I am having a battle of body and soul. My body is trying to push my feelings down and my soul which usually wins is trying to push them up. The soul is protective and honest at the same time. 

I have experienced huge losses in the last two years. My father-in-law, then my dad -which was very sudden- and four weeks ago my mother-in-law. Add in the four years of dealing with the aftermaths of cancer and two major surgeries for that aftermath in six months and more to come and three teens that keep being -well , teens – my mom moving in – I guess I shouldn’t be surprised I feel the way I do.

I stood in the shower and drew a big heart on the wall and put my hand in it as I cried. Maybe I wanted to feel something familiar as I touched that wet or maybe I wanted it to heat up as a sign from someone who I loved that has crossed into the realm. I just wanted to feel something. And I felt sad so maybe that was ok. 

 I wanted something bc so many things seem shifted. 

Am I depressed? Shell shocked? Is it the meds I have to take?  Or am I just feeling the pangs of so much grief that I am holding in? 

My mother-in- law -Doris Sweeney- whom I called mom was one of my very best friends. She died July 18. She deserves a blog of her own and I will write about her when I can. I’m not ready but  I do miss her terribly. Sometimes I think maybe it’s wrong for me to grieve this loss so much bc this wasn’t my mom this was Kevin’s mom. Doesn’t he deserve to have this huge chasm of loss to himself? I feel like I am stealing his mom or the loss of her somehow. I know that’s not rational. But bc I must feel that way somewhere deep in my brain -my body is like a dam only letting bits of grief sink in. 

I think this and the fact that three people that I considered parents to me – even if two weren’t – have left this world. And crap do I miss them. 

My soul will win and require me to feel what I need to feel. It’s pushing me to deal with it all. I hope that it will get me off this rocking boat and help me to feel like I’m on dry sound land again. 

It’s lonely here. I have felt this loneliness before many years ago before I married Kevin. The alone feeling even when in a room of people. 

Kevin and his family brought so much light and balance  into my life. They have no idea. 

The other day at the memorial lunch I think I hoped it would feel like a reunion of family. That i would feel that warm feeling – like the room gets a bit warmer bc people love eachother and are happy to be together. But I just felt lonely. Nobody did anything wrong. It’s just that each of us was so sad and the part of our soul that touches each other was curled up hugging our own selves – protecting us. Or maybe it was just my soul was curled up and I couldn’t reach out. But everything was off. Sadness prevailed and was visible under the laughter and greeting of friends. Because the humans whose lives we were celebrating should have been there. 

It was a beautiful place and so many words of love were shared.  The gathering of friends was beautiful and I wanted to see my inlaws faces but all I had to look at were the many family photos we shared in collages that we all put together. 

Faces on paper were all that was left. 

I know I looked at the collages but I hardly recall any of the pictures. I even made three of the collages myself. Pinning the photos onto the framed boards one by one. I cried some. But I stealed away the feelings as best I could because other wise I couldn’t have done it. 

Faces on paper. And love and memories. I know this. But I’m not there yet. I know this is what life should be. Parents going before their children. 

Rationally I get all that. But I’m not there yet.  I’m off kilter, I feel this hole, too much has happened. 

I will begin counseling again but right now it seems too exhausting to tell someone everything that has happened.  Maybe I should give the therapist this blog post:) 

I just need a little time to see how this all processes. Writing helps. It does. It’s something that is familiar and balances me. Thank God for it. 

And God. I have written many times about my faith. I would admit  my faith has been tested sometimes in the last year especially. But in the last four I have had so many questions and some have been answered as best as they can be answered and others still flutter waiting for understanding that I might not get. But I think sitting in a church of any sort could help bc I feel a connection to God – but definitely not to a religion. I like bits and pieces of many but dislike bits and pieces too. But sometimes just sitting in a church worshipping and singing can help the soul heal. 

I sat on my horse yesterday. I longed for it. Needed it. For those few moments working with my horse some balance was in my life and that post horse buzz haloed around me for a good while.  But today that sense of unbalance of doing life but it really being part of it is back. 

I’m going out to paint some shutters for our cottage I’m hoping brush to wood will lighten this load o me at least for a while. 

There is a path that I must walk to get to a place of balance even if it is a new familiarity of my life. It’s changed the patriarchy and matriarchy that was once there is now mostly gone. What a gaping hole -albeit wound – it leaves. 

Lonely souls that have to learn to ride the rivers without a beacon ship. 

So much has happened my body and soul are trying to protect me I guess. Trying to keep the dam from breaking. In the meantime I’m floating down the river without a beacon ship  to lead me. Because now I -we- kevin and I and all my sweeney family -we- we are the new beacons  and I’m not ready to lead quite yet. 


Goals. What you picture. What is real. And lollipops.

Almost 6 weeks since surgery. I had forgotten from my first surgery what recovery was like. It’s a roller coaster. I’m doing more at six weeks post surgery than I did last time. The surgery is a tough one.  But I think I pictured a more pain free existence. I know I’m not going to have no pain there’s sooo much damage from radiation. But It’s better -don’t get me wrong – and maybe it’s because I’ve had a couple of rough days this last few days that maybe I’m feeling a little down.

 I was down at our new beach house a couple days ago and I was walking my dog Rudy. I must have been walking him with my right arm -the recently operated side- it was an unconscious thing- he must have pulled my arm which for me is like a big no no. Thankfully it wasn’t a hard enough pull that I really remember exactly when it happened. I remember mostly walking him with my left hand but we did come upon another dog and maybe it was then that I grabbed the leash with both hands and got pulled. I didn’t have the leash put in in its anti-pull setup. I bought it just for that but I was only taking him for a quick pee that turned into a walk to the bay and on the way back is when we met with John our neightbor and his dog Abby. So my bad. And later after a nice nap on the couch in Cool Breeze Cottage family room I woke up with lots of pain.  The burning pain and  radiating pain that makes me cough. The thing that I’ve wanted to be rid of but doesn’t seem to want to leave. It’s deflating. But likely due to radiation damage. 

I saw my surgeon last Thursday and he’s pleased with my recovery. I think he’s surprised that I don’t take more pain medication but I do take enough just so I can get out an about. I have been hoping that the need to use it will abate as I heal more. I’m to begin working on more range of motion exercises which I fear will bring me the pain I’ve had since the pulling incident a couple days ago.  But I can’t be afraid because there is the thought that more range of motion might alleviate some of the pain-eventually. Much of my pain since the first surgery that removed surgical clips is related to scarring and to nerve damage from radiation treatments. The damage tightens skin and tissue and causes entrapment of the nerves….and the nerves get damaged from radiation as well.  

Why I have such a severe case is unknown. But the long term painful effects of cancer treatments are really just being studied.  In many ways I’m a guinea pig every time I go under the knife and entrust myself to the skills of my nerve surgeon. My surgeon continues to suggest things we can try in the future. Fat grafting is one. It shows much promise. But it’s hard for me to picture my life like this. As a person with chronic pain.  Overall I’m much better than I was but I am afraid to get too optimistic. I am also bummed that we can’t solve the issue that makes me cough but I think we are getting closer to the cause- but fixing it may not be possible. Managing it may be my only option. 

Last Thursday I was feeling good. Then The dog pulled me and I feel like I went backwards. This has happened before- a few weeks ago when I overdid range of motion exercises. I recovered and continued healing. I got down then, and I felt the same fear then that I have now. That fear that I’ve done some damage to myself and it won’t get better. I don’t want to feel so negatively but it’s so hard not to be sometimes. The last four years have not been easy and the last year has taken me from someone who could walk out the door and not think a thing but whether I had my sunglasses to someone who has to worry about whether I have my pillow -which I need because I can’t sit without pain if I don’t have it-, whether I have pain meds with me, or if I have an ice pack or heating pad. It’s not what I pictured my life would be. 

I picture my life much differently. I see myself more free and more pain free. Then there is the reality of the now. I still feel sidelined much of the time.  I have to meld what I picture for myself to the realities. I know that we can have plans for ourselves and life will often take us on a different path. I will keep the pictures I have in my head as eventual realities. They are goals. They keep me going. Maybe they will be but not exactly as I picture. Coming to grips with the realities of what life is is very hard for me. On days like this I feel sorry for myself. I cry. On days like this I know I need to get my butt up and do something. Even if it takes medication to get me moving I need to do it. 

The other day at the nerve surgeons office I saw a young girl. She was from Israel. She was beautiful, maybe 25. She was with her translator. I was standing at the snack counter grabbing a lollipop – my surgeon always has lollipops-the good kind-Tootsie Pops. I offered her the container she shook her head no and smiled. She stood up to leave. She did well standing on her two prosthetics, happy, bc whatever procedure she had that day made her pain free. It wouldn’t last it was just a diagnostic procedure, but her smile was beautiful. I knew from chatter in the back office that she had been the victim of an IED explosion as she was traveling  in a bus- lost the lower part of both her legs. Seeing her was real life smacking you in the face. I wanted to hug her but offering her the lollipop was all I could do. You could see she was a girl who didn’t want pity -she just wanted to be rid of her pain. 

 Perspective. 

I thought of her today as I was writing this post. We all have to wake up with our realities. I think I’ll get myself up and go live my life and deal with mine.

It’s all in your perspective.  Sometimes my day sucks but I have a choice what I’m going to do with my day.

I’m going to try to go to the garden center and buy a perennial for my cleaned out garden bed….

I’m pretty sure that I’ll think of that girl often.

Why I won’t vote this year -thank you Dad. 

Last Sunday I lost my dad suddenly and the pain is profound. I can’t even write much about it all yet. I still feel as if this is all just a horrible dream. 

I’m really worn out. I’ve had chronic pain issues over the last few years after breast cancer treatment. It hit high levels this summer and I had surgery on Oct 12 – on that day we hadn’t been able my to reach my dad and not the day before either- which was very unusual. Eventually he was found on the floor of his condo the next day Oct 13. He was rushed to ER which began a journey of ups and downs that ended in his unexpected death ten days later. 

It’s all been too much for me. The last there years – the cancer – the pain – financial trouble- the loss of my father in law – trying to find doctors to help me – moving my frail mother in law to assisted living – worrying about newly widowed mom living alone and in pain in PA. – finally having some complex nerve  surgery that seems to have helped some of my problems but maybe not all  (BC I’m still healing) -but then the icing on the cake is the loss of my father. Sometimes I just think I can’t face another second of this life. I’m so tired and beaten down. I’ve yet to figure out what I’m supposed to learn from all this. Maybe it’s resiliency but now it feels like shit. 

My Heart is cracked open. And if you’ve had that happen and most of us have – sometimes there are no words to really express what we feel. And sometimes we just don’t want to share those raw bits and pieces. But I’m a writer and I eventually will need to get out the things I feel. Now there are too many questions. Too much sadness and anger.  Just too much. 

I am as close to my breaking point as I’ve ever been. Sometimes I just want to follow my daddy to the other side. But my dad was not one to give up and neither am I. But lord I’m so tired in so many ways. 

In these last few days I’ve yet again been reminded that the very most imperically important thing is In this world is love. LOVE.  

And that’s why I’m not voting.  All I’ve seen in the last few months as I’ve layed in bed in pain -is anger and hate. And I’ll admit I’ve had a lot  of anger on my own I didnt need to feed off of more of it from other sources.  

 Anger and hate have lashed out over this crazy dance we call running for president -and it’s really not the election and really not politics. These forums just bring out the anger and hurt that’s in our world. It magnifies it. It’s shows the opposite of love.  Its just one of the focal Hate cancers that permeate our society. And I can’t bring myself to vote In a system that magnifies hate from it. It might just be too soul crushing for me. And I need things to enlighten my soul right now. Not things that poison it. 

When my dad lay dying in the hospital we formed a circle of love around him.  Most family unable to get there because it all happened so fast. My brother at his side in the ICU of a hospital in Florida along with his friend Jeff by his side – I was here in Maryland on the phone with Jeff which he held next to my fathers ear  -and Kevin and my kids were in the room with me and my brother had his family on his phone. We surrounded my dad with love as we said goodbye and prayed and told him how much he was loved. Later my brother sat with just me on the phone in that quiet ICU while we waited for my dad to take his last breath. I was holding my brother’s hand metaphorically as he held that phone -and in the opposite hand held my dads hand in his.  I spoke prayers and verses I found on the internet. The nurse removed his breathing tube -We prayed that God would lift him up – We cried – and my brother and I waited for our dads soul to rise into eternity – our hearts breaking.

 My friends this is love. 

And this is where I belong. In the realms of love  Not in the hatred of this world. My fragile soul was born into a world of such love but where there are cancers of hatred. I can no longer bring myself to be part of that sickness.

My soul seeks so much of a different path.  

My dad who loved politics and who loved to tell me often and in detail of his dislike of the candidate he planned on not voting for -would be appalled at me for not voting. I think I told him that one year many years ago  I wrote in my dog as my choice for president. Now thinking back I may never have told him that. He may have stopped speaking to me. Well dad- if you can read in heaven – I voted for Gator my greyhound and I chose Jay Jay Star his greyhound friend as be his Vice President. Sorry. But it’s what I had to do. 

And this year I won’t be voting and  I am not voting ever again if all that permeates from an election is hatred. I don’t expect profound love coming from any competitive race but what I expect is respect and decency.  Not venom from candidates which lathers people who watch with that venom and then It begins to spread. Friends hate friends for opposing views. Slinging barbs to someone they once would have never considered saying those things to. It’s a cancer. 

I know my dad would have given me many reasons why my vote matters and what a priveledge it is that we have such a system in our country.  But sadly his death made me drive my stake in the sand even more.  “Not gonna do it.” If I can paraphrase  Dana Carvey who used to parody former President Bush. 

I wish people would remember  that the nucleus of humanity is love. We see it come out sometimes when we least expect it.  We humans can really rally when shit hits the fan. And love really does win.  But it’s our human condition that seems to so easily allow us to gravitate to the cancers of hate. Why do we forget we are all worthy of compassion and respect? 

I don’t feel strong enough anymore to spend my time among hate. I’m not sure it’s from my wisdom where this comes – I think it’s just a worn spirit that knows from where it needs to get its water – the clean spring bringing waters of love. Not the dirty one bringing waters from sewage of hate. 

Sometimes I wonder if I’m supposed to be here on this earth. Like maybe there is another planet I was supposed to be on. Like my soul got delivered to the wrong place. Maybe the only such place I dream of only exists in heaven -on the other side of this place called earth.    

 In my own humanness I’ve had anger issues of my own. I’ve lashed out at my kids when they’ve hurt me or frustrated me. I held some anger for my own dad for years. Most of my anger comes from hurt or fear. Once you can see where it comes from you can try to work on it. And I’ve found as I’ve aged that I just need to try to step away from my fear and move very far away from hatred machines as best I can. 

In that moment when I knew I was saying goodbye to my daddy for a final time until I will -God Willing- see him again – all that I felt was love for this man. And in that sterile ICU –that I could only see in my imagination – all that exuded was love. And then it’s so obvious to me – in that moment of pain and sorrow that it’s all that matters in this world is Love. Why is that so hard  for humans to live each day by?  The answer is because we are human. 

If I only get to go through this journey of life on earth once I’m going to stand away from things that permeate hate.  And this includes this thing we know as an election – -it can unfold all on its own.

 I’m out.  

And I don’t even care anymore. My heart is ripped open and all I want to put into it now is love and as best as I can I want the output to be love – for as long as I live. 

My vote is for LOVE. 

“Love one another” –Jesus Christ. 

“I hope you Dance “-Lee Ann Womack 

October has come – some thoughts from a breast cancer survivor

Holy Cow! It’s already October. The summer slipped away from me as I rested in bed trying to stay away from pain. And as I searched for answers to rid me of the pain. Now it is fall- one days oozed into another and what seemed like an eternity  of time as I sat in bed day after day has slipped away so very quickly. I look back and I still feel as if it should still be June.

I’m going into my fourth month of this hell with my pain issues. The pink will come out today. It’s breast cancer awareness month. It’s a good thing. But it’s hard for me to sort out my feelings really.

Today my son runs in a cross country meet. I haven’t been able to go to any of the meets this fall. Which is a bummer. Anyway for October -the runners are going to wear pink shoelaces. My son wasn’t sure if he wanted to go to all the trouble to change his laces. He’s a teen and has his lazy moments. I kind of wanted him to want to wear them bc his mom had breast cancer and bc i am still dealing w the after effects of treatments. And he lives it with me everyday. He’s used to a mom who  is sick in bed. That makes me sad. But his wearing the laces -that’s just a personal thing bc this son and I are so close. His wearing pink is significant to me bc he lives with the real truth -the real awareness.

He wrote an essay for his AP lit class last month . Part of it mentions how he was effected by my cancer. It made me cry.  I so wish I didn’t cause my family strife in this way. I rather cause strife by being a nagging mom not a sick one.

Three years ago on oct 3 I had surgery to remove the cancer from my right breast. It’s was a stage one cancer. Early stage. And I had a procedure done called a sentinel lymph node Biopsy where I had 4 lymph nodes removed – all returned negative for cancer. During surgery  I had little tiny surgical clips placed in my breast and in my armpit -also called the axilla. They are used to control bleeding and they help speed up the surgery.  Not all surgeons use them.  I followed my surgery with 30 rounds of radiation. Later I learned that radiation can be as damaging to the body as chemo and the effects of radiation can show up years later. I’ve since come to know cancer survivors who suffer from the effects of radiation treatments. I’d like to say in hindsight I would change something that I did back in 2013 but I really don’t know if I would. I didn’t have the gift of hindsight at that time. If I have been asked if I wanted surgical clips in my body I think I may have said no but I can’t for sure say that.

After surgery, I had pain and limited arm range of motion. Radiation intensified the issue. A few months after my treatments ended i was shoveling snow and something happened – when I awoke the next morning I had tingling sensations that went across my chest. It was very painful and it made me cough. Over the years I have had pain in the axilla and in my arm and those terrible sensations that would go across my chest. Nobody knew what was wrong. I saw many doctors with nobody really helping except to refer me to someone else. So I gave up. I was able to deal with the pain and I tried to live with it -figuring this was the price you paid for getting cured from cancer. Then this year in late late May I began to feel worse. The pain was getting much worse -and the horrible chest sensations occurring more often and they were much more severe.

By June it was getting so bad I was basically in pain for our entire vacation and when I came home we began to really push for answers. Which has been hell. I was in a very dark place for a good while.  Read more about that here. But our luck changed when we found our way  to some great and kind doctors who listened. A physiatrist I saw said it could be an issue with my surgical clips as they are located in my areas of focal pain.

That sent me back to my original breast surgeon who treated me like I was an alien and sent me to another breast surgeon that left me wishing I’d used him from the start of my cancer journey . He was finally Someone who looked at me – right at me- and saw a person in so much pain and I could see his shock in his eyes. I had come so drugged to his office for my appointment that day and  I still had to ask to be placed in an exam room while we waited for him to get out of surgery. I had to lay down. Sitting for long is too hard.  He walked in and saw me on the table with a heating pad in my armpit and he was shocked I was ever allowed to be in that much pain and he was even more shocked when I told him I was unable to get out of bed much and too use my right arm much brought on intense symptoms.

He sent me to his pain management center a few days later -where I had diagnostic injections – and all of those docs  -breast cancer and pain doc and a plastic surgeon I also saw – referred me to a peripheral nerve surgeon that also listened  and was so kind. He has seen a large number of breast cancer patients who suffer like I am. Post Breast Therapy  Pain Syndrome is only just now getting recognized as a thing in the medical communities. Often you get doctors not understanding your pain and you don’t know where to turn. Which sends you bouncing from one doctor to another.

But this doctor got it. I liked him right away. We talked a good while. He did a diagnostic injection in my armpit and I reported my results to him. He was happy enough with the results to agree to go in and resection my nerves. He agreed that surgical clips could be caught up in scar tissue and nerves and that this could be causing my pain issues. He didn’t know why I coughed from some of my chest sensations but didn’t cast me off as s crazy person.  He knows the issue occurred after the cancer surgery so he feels it’s all related to my axilla and breast pain. My surgeon is worried I may have internal tissue damage from radiation which can make the case more complicated. The things that we have to help eradicate the cancer can damage us further.

So on October 12 -a little over three years since my original cancer surgery I will be having nerve resection surgery. And he will remove as many surgical clips as he can.  I’m nervous but hopeful this will rid me of much of my pain so that I can again be a part of the world.

This brings me back to pink October and breast cancer awareness month. I’m all for creating awareness. But I think many of us are quite aware of breast cancer and cancer in general it’s everywhere.  All of us have been touched by cancer.  Do we need to be made more aware than me already are? I think awareness needs to expand its scope. I know this is a big fundraising month for breast cancer organizations. And that’s the point for the pink in your face for the month of October. And I think giving is great to help further cancer research to find less barbaric ways to treat this disease. Because it’s barbaric.

In Mexico there is a clinic where they treat breast cancer in a very different way. So much less invasive -breasts aren’t removed -the cancer is treated through the heating of the blood -and it also it involves diet changes ,supplements , the use of hormonal meds like tamoxifen. No chemo. No radiation.  They have good results in treating early stage cancers. Many of their patients achieve remission which is no evidence of cancer in their bodies and they didn’t have surgery or chemo or radiation. Pretty amazing. There are alternatives out there.

The month of awareness needs to extend to the entire truth. Cancer is a journey for the person having treatment.  It doesn’t end the last day of chemo or radiation.  We are all left with scars. Some physical some mental some financial. I had all of them. Cancer doesn’t effect just the patient. It effects the whole family. People think we just should get on with life. And most of us who are lucky enough to be in remission do. But we have scars. Fear always follows us. Sometimes chronic pain infiltrates us. Sometime it pops up years after treatment.

We freak out inside at any weird blood test result. I had one yesterday. Liver enzymes high. I think it’s because I had taken a pain killer and Valium right before the  visit to my primary care doc for a pre-op check. But they are higher than my blood draw a few weeks ago. In my head swirls so many thoughts.  Rational and irrational. I had a chest CT that said I had nodules on my lungs and three docs have told me they aren’t anything. But when you’ve had cancer you can’t let it go so easily. I’ll get a recheck  on these things after I deal with this pain issue.  It’s the trajectory having had cancer puts you on. You never really let your guard down.

Let the awareness continue. But let’s not make the end of the story just that we are survivors. That you rid us  of cancer – you’ve really put me in remission and I will try to do the right things to stay there.  Let’s tell the whole story.  Survivors can end up with chronic pain issues and other nasty side effects from the treatments. They can end up with recurrence and other types of cancers. Don’t ask us to be thankful we are still alive and we should deal with our new normal. I am thankful but theres just so much more to it than just telling someone to get over it and be thankful and get used to a new normal. My pain wasn’t addressed early on properly and now I’m in agony. And now hopefully I’ll be in less pain soon. But the mental wounds are hard to shake.

There too many people that suffer after cancer. Some things needs to be fixed to keep this from occurring. We need better after care for one. And its coming -I see it now after hunting down doctors familiar with post cancer pain – but the progression is slow.

I’m angry inside – but it comes from frustration over my situation and I want to make people aware of the true realities of cancer – not just the numbers Komen and other organizations throw out about survivor stats.

I’m that survivor and I am here to tell you the truth.  The good, the bad, and the ugly. Cancer is just the monster that begins the domino effect of a journey you never ever wanted to be on. I’ve seen my strength and weakness pop up in the same minute. I’ve Seen the very worst of myself and the very best. I’ve learned I’m resilient. I’ve seen the darkest depths of despair yet I’m here to tell you about them.

I’m the woman at the walk to raise money for a breast cancer center that’s helps treat woman who are low income or who are not insured. I’m the woman lying on the table face down getting pain block injections.  I’m the woman laughing out to dinner with friends. I’m the woman in tears bc her doctor doesn’t want to help her. I’m the woman stuck in bed trying to plan her daughters journey to get into college. I’m the woman who makes meals when others need help. I’m the woman taking in those meals now so her husband has one less thing to worry about.  I’m the woman who is facing surgery three years after my initial diagnosis. I’m not the only one. There are more of us. We are warriors.

I’m here to create real awareness that the cancer may be gone but the journey is never over.

I don’t mind the pink but just know there is more to the story -a lot more.

Cancer means so many things. It’s bowled over too many people. It’s a journey of warriors. When you see all the pink in October and your sick of it maybe if you’ve read my blog posts of late maybe you can look at the pink in a different way and you can know the story behind the story and think of those cancer warriors making their way through life trying to pick up the broken pieces and live their lives. And think of those fighters who have left us. This month should also be about them. The ones who are gone.  The cancer org’s won’t focus on that. I have a list of those brave souls that I knew that were taken by cancer- I bet you do too. When you see pink think of them.

And on October 12 if you have a minute to send a prayer up for me or send good vibes for my surgery and a good outcome that would be such a blessing to me.

______

See More on my pain journey here:

Sidelined -the summer goes on. 

Powerless- in search of MY power. 

Did I leave? 

Sitting on the deck

 

In my dreams

In my dreams I am whole.

I walk the beaches of the world and I hear the roar of the waves and I smile.

In my dreams I  can hold a child and carry bunches of flowers miles and miles.

In my dreams I can ride my horse and brush him. I Fly across the land on his back arms spread wide one with the air and sun.

In my dreams I am free. I can run and touch the moon and the stars. There is nothing to hold me down.

In my dreams I feel love and happiness -no pain and sorrow.

Then I wake-

The shadows of sadness and pain dive upon me before I even shed my sleep haze.

My heart crushes as the walls close in.

I feel like I can’t breath. I’m trapped in myself and all the freedom I felt in my dream is robbed from me.

Another day. The same thing. Physical pain and sadness.

It’s a lonely place and I’ve never liked loneliness but it’s not unfamiliar -I just thought I had escaped it long ago.

I try to read but the characters in the book are living life -I’m not  – it makes me cry.

On tv a woman holds a puppy – I can hardly brush my own hair. I couldn’t carry a puppy.

I feel like I’m disappointing everyone. Despondent mom, wife and friend.

It seems to me that some doctors think it’s ok for me to live like this.

It’s not ok for me. It’s like my world has shattered and I can’t pick up all the pieces.

People walk by and hand me a shard or two and think they’ve done a good thing for me.

All I see are the rest of the pieces on the floor with no way for me to pick them up.

I once would have tried and succeeded at picking them up but now I just can’t find the strength.

I’ll never be able to put them back together alone.

The sadness overwhelms me and I long for answers.

I long to get out of the box I’m in. I am sad and afraid. I want to claw my way out but I’m almost out of hope that I can.

I just want to sleep.

I want to go back to my dreams.