It's that time again, part

IT’S THAT TIME AGAIN PART THREE! 

If you are glazing over this article pretending that it won’t happen to you or that you want to hear only good news I’m here to tell you that although the circumstances surrounding this story don’t show up as a day in the park, the reality of what can happen and how one can handle it conjoining all forces, mind/body/spirit have a story that is worth reading about.

Whether being diagnosed with breast cancer has happened to you or to a close friend or somebody who knows somebody none of us get out of this unscathed.  However what you can do as a messenger of fact is to stay abreast (yes, I know) of this disease because you will never know when your wisdom/assistance/partnership/love will be coming your way and asking for support.

Here is part 3 of my journey.  Though paraphrased I hope to give you enough information that you will be available to share a story or two to someone who for the most part may initially act as though they need no help but soon to wake up and find that having a posse is immensely important.

“When I looked back on this time of my life I knew the truth about this cancer long before the mammogram took place. Deep down, we always know the truth about ourselves, our bodies, if we allow ourselves to feel it. Usually, we get in our own way and let our fears, insecurities and other people’s stories blind us. But we are all privy to the truth if we choose to hear what our inner guide is telling us and then trust what we hear. Three months before my mammogram, while driving around town I heard a commercial on the radio about mammograms and breast cancer. I even remember the exact intersection I was waiting to turn through. But I didn’t just hear the words, “breast cancer.” I felt them in the pit of my stomach with a wave of discomfort tingling all through my body

 I got THE phone call around eleven in the morning three days after the biopsy on the starbursts as I was walking back to my office. I had infiltrating ductal carcinoma. Something like 80 or 90% of all breast cancers start in the milk ducts. Some stay inside the ducts, which is called “in situ” or, as in my case, they spread to nearby tissue i.e. infiltrate. I needed a lumpectomy. I was also going to have the sentinel node removed to see whether the cancer had spread. From there we would determine the road to healing.

Somehow I found my way to my office. My hand still had my phone pressing into my ear even though I had hung up from my phone call with the radiologist several minutes before. I needed to share the news with my best friend Michael. I then went home and called my girlfriend, Cary to come over. She had been with me from the beginning of this. (A quick aside, if you are ever in a similar situation, make sure you have someone you like and who has a compassionate soul to accompany you to your doctor visits in moments of crisis like this because if you are feeling the fear like I was, you might not be able to digest all of the important information that you’re being given.

 When Cary got to my house, I was already on the Internet researching everything I could find about breast cancer, nodes, radiation and its effect on the cells, chemo and its effect on my hair (yes, vanity here). Michael called and had quickly put together a dinner for me that night with some other friends. After dinner that night, I came home, walked straight to my bedroom, collapsed on the bed and cried deeply and passionately. For the first time since this ordeal began I allowed myself to be fully vulnerable. The possibility of dying became real to me. I woke up in the morning on my side with my arms wrapped tightly around me in the biggest self-hug ever. I realized that I had been breathing very deeply and intensely right before I woke, like the breathing that comes from being very scared in a dream because of something that was chasing you. This fear was now real, present and accounted for and it was following me into my waking world.  “So teach me, already” I said out loud.

I decided not to have the lumpectomy until after I returned from my vacation to Italy, which had been planned long before these cancer cells crashed the party of my life. I thought of having it before I left and then dealing with any possible consequences when I got back but taking trains and lifting luggage with stitches didn’t seem like the smartest choice. I didn’t even tell my mom about the cancer until my return because she would have worried the entire time I was away. As it turned out, I came home on a Saturday, told her on Sunday and she came up to take care of me when I was operated on that Monday.

Well, the lumpectomy was a success! I had ample clear margins and no traces of cancer in my lymph nodes. I would have radiation 5 times a week for 6 to 7 weeks. Now that I knew what to expect, I felt a snippet of peace and I became more attuned to my intention, which was learning what partnership with modern medicine required my part to be.

Cedars Sinai Hospital is where I went for my radiation treatments and is only 10 minutes from my house. Due to major construction in their building, they were offering valet parking (it is LA after all). So I buzzed in every morning at my assigned time of 11 am, smiled on the inside and radiated it (OKAY, PUN INTENDED) outward on my way down into the basement where this obnoxiously massive radiation machine was housed. While I waited, I would write in my journal or chat with those around me who wanted to share their cancer journey. The conscious attempt of putting on a happy face came from a new understanding that staying joyful was as important for me as it was for the others who were in the waiting room as well as the receptionists and technicians who were making themselves available to assist in our healing. Those interactions reminded me of my responsibility to keep pushing through and surviving this experience with as much grace and ease as possible. It was part of my giving back to the world on an energetic basis. By the end of the 7 weeks I was given my graduation diploma and hugs from my radiologists who said they would miss me. I told them we would get together for coffee soon. We laughed knowing that I would never want to come back to this place again and so with a huge sigh of relief, I turned and walked valiantly out the door. I had survived this part of a tough road. 

Now what?”

Next week in Part 4 of It’s Time Again, I’ll share how I found and practiced my new regime for healing that I still use today and is recommended by many who have been in similar life-threatening cluster-fcuks where one never forgets.

To your continued brilliance unfolding,

P.S.  So excited to have our next guest Jennifer Rae Portnoy this Friday at 11 am PDT on WinWinWomen.com with myself and cohost Charlie Lowe.  Jennifer is a professional dancer, a yoga instructor and is better known to me as a Pelvic Health Practitioner.

Take control of your health using an integrative approach that heals the whole person, not symptoms alone.

“I can merge my 3 worlds professionally and create a warm, welcoming, healing space. From the core, from the spine, from the ‘meat on the bones,’ from the base chakra, from the deep abdominals, from the pelvic bones, internal organs, muscles, and fascia, from the soles of the feet touching the ground, we pause, center, breathe, acknowledge, accept, and allow. We go down to come up. We look inside to discover our ground and heal from deep within.”

LINK: https://winwinwomen.tv/show/imagine-something-better.

As always, thank you so much for tuning in. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do.