Radiation has begun.

Radiation has begun, and already I have missed the first two days due to a birth. Technically I am supposed to me there everyday at the same time, but the team there is making an exception to the rules for me, as babies can’t be predicted or rushed.

I arrive for my first appointment and am greeted by the cheery Radiation technologist.

“Good morning Elizabeth. How was the birth?”

I’m on the edge of exploding because I can’t believe I am really going to do this every day for 6 weeks.

“Long, but really good. “ I reply sweetly.

“You know, missing those days was okay, as they were your first. But, once radiation begins, you will need to find a way to get here everyday.”

She might as well have just taken a knife and jabbed it into my heart and twisted it around.

Grumble, Grumble, Grumble.

Because I’m not good with filters I blurt out, “I’m not happy about being here.”

“Oh, but it is good for you to take care of yourself”.

I look at her as though she has 10 eyes are reply gritting my teeth, “Yes”, while I think:

“Fuck you. Take care of myself? I took care of myself and I still got cancer!”



“So, Lizzi, the radiation began, yes? How is it?” inquires my mom.

I do everything I can to not leash my angry tiger out on her and be responsible for my feelings.

“I hate it, mom." I'm feeling mildly zen.

"It is a pain in the fucking ass!" Okay, I'm owning my anger, but I can feel the boil. Careful Lizzi, don't project onto her, she did nothing wrong, don't pick a fight....

"Everyday I have to drive to Cedars, find parking, undress, change into an ugly blue gown, wait my turn with a beeper, lie down on the machine, have my 10 minute turn of radiation, take the gown off, slather cream onto my breasts, get dressed, get the parking validated and then start my day! A 10 minute appointment is a 60 minute inconvenience!” I'm in a full on animated complaint now.

My mom is at a loss as to what to say.



My friends want to know if it hurts.

"No, it doesn't hurt. There is a warm heat coming out of the machine and it makes a loud buzzing noise. I go into a deep meditation and imagine that intense rays of LovingKindness are coming through me via the machine. Sometimes I visualize golden rays, other time it is a rainbow of fairy dust." I'm still calm and a bit blase.

"It isn't the heat, it is the cold that gets me. It is so fuckin' cold in that basement room, that if I had nipples, they would be standing at attention!" Uh-oh, I'm starting to boil....

And I can't leave it alone. I proceed to roll down that hill. "And another thing...I have to be there the same fuckin’ time, everyday, 5 days a week, for 6 weeks! You know me, I can’t even plan my vacations more than a few weeks in advance, and now I have to plan where I am going to be every day? It sucks ass!”

I have left no rooms for my friends to squeeze in a word while I dump and vent.



I tell anyone who will listen how pissed off that not only do I have to do this everyday, but I also have to slather on special cream from France 4 times a day to make sure I don't get radiation burns!

I witness myself with my pissy attitude and suffocating complaints and realize that I have become my father!

I spent a good amount of my life rebelling against his favorite words of wisdom, "There are some things in life that you don't want to do, but have to do."

And here I am, full on in that quote, backed up into a corner. I am not able to control how this happens. And, I am choosing to not run away from this feeling even though I don't like it.

So, I surrender into my anger and frustration.

I go to a prenatal with one of my clients who is pregnant with baby number three and has become a dear friend.

“So, the radiation began. Is it going well?”

I loose the plot.

“I feel like I am a caged animal who is stuck behind the bars of this daily commitment. The last time I had to be anywhere on a regular, daily basis was 12 years ago with my last corporate job!”

She looks innocently at me in day 5 of her podromal labor and sighs, “I so get it sister." And yes, she does because prodromal labor is labor that goes on and on and on... in general it is not painful, but a pain in the ass because it can not be controlled or predicted. It tries on ones level of patience. She then chirps up and says, "Well, why don’t you turn this into a ritual. If you have to be doing the same thing every day, why not add a little something to it and treat yourself to a nice tea afterwards?”

What? is she serious? and deprive myself of some well deserved complaining?

Oy. She is right. And I am exhausting myself with all this complaining, because I can always choose to not do the radiation. But I know that choice would only be made as a way to 'run away' from this yicky feeling and my perception that when I can't 'will' things to go 'my way', I have to surrendered my freedom and I've failed.

Why do I think that a daily commitment is ruining my life? Since when did I give the radiation SO much of my personal power?

And all of a sudden it hits me square in the eye - I'm in the middle of yet another labor. I too am in a prodromal labor! Like a mom who is prodromal, there is always the choice of augmenting the labor with pitocin or herbs to get the labor going... I can choose at any moment to not sit in this place and be done with radiation... or one can choose to surrender into the complete 'out of control' feeling, stomp one's feet, allow oneself to feel the anger of not being in control and at some point develop a depth of patience that one never thought possible.

Here I sit, with the full choice to discontinue radiation to avoid these feelings and my choice to go deep into my feelings. When I sit quietly in these depths I find that I am resistant to discipline. Somewhere, somehow, I have equated discipline and a daily physical commitment with limitation of freedom - and I'm addicted to complaining about it!

I am back where I started.

I breath in my commitment to not 'fight', I align myself up with the word 'trust', and I exhale my uncomfortable feelings around the word 'discipline' and admit, that I don't like it when I am not in 'control'.

Stick a fork in me, coz I'm done!

And with that information, I decide to ritualize my experience. I stop everyday at my favorite underground juice bar, where I down a double shot of wheatgrass, grab fresh juices for the day and drag my ass to radiation - with full permission to continue grumbling away and stomping my feet.

I continue to witness this place in myself without judgment, holding that scared, dysfunctional place within the health of trust that I know is my true self.

I settle.

I breath in more spaciousness.

And continue into this unknown with the big toes testing out the waters of peace while I am in the midst of not knowing the answer.

Uuuuugggghhhhh

I feel like stomping my feet and have a proper 3 year old temper tantrum.

Today is a day dedicated to cancer and Cedars Siani Hospital. 10:30am Bloodwork, 11:00am Dr. G, 12:30pm Herceptin Infusion, 2:30pm Interview my Radiologist, 4:00pm Manicure (yes, the manicure is a very important part of the cancer day). My Physical Therapist want to see me at 5:00pm, but I say "No", because I know I will have nothing left to give by this evening.

I woke up this morning full of piss and vinegar. I could feel things brewing inside of me.

It is 8:30am, so I call Anna W.

Before she has a chance to state the pleasantries, I jump right in, "Anna, I'm scared."

I don't know what I am scared of, I just know what I am feeling.

"And I'm angry because I don't know what I am scared of".

I start to unravel the feelings with Anna as my witness. What starts to come up is my frustration that I am moving forward with the radiation & herceptin, but I don't want to. Yet, I can't find a reason why not to.

I'm scared of the radiation causing lymphadema (it increases the risks once one has had the axillary disection). I'm scared because I can't say no to having the burning toxins of radiation put into my body - even thought there is no cancer in my lymphs and my breasts are gone. I'm scared of the extra scar tissue and hardening of my skin that radiation creates. I'm scared because I think I don't have the strength to say "no", because the whole idea of even doing these therapies is based on a fear of cancer, and a fear of dieing. And I know I am not going to die now, but I'm scared that if I say "no" to the continued treatments at Cedars then the cancer will come back.

I'm scared because I'm witnessing that I have fear. Fear that the cancer will come back if I don't do the time consuming radiation, herceptin and hormonal therapies!

Now I find I'm angry coz I think I'm buying into a "fear" mentality. And I am judging myself for that.

So I chew on my favorite quote: "Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear." ~Ambrose Redmoon

And I start to realize that fear is part of life. It does not go away, no matter how much one meditates, no matter what one studies spiritually - and sometimes it is a good thing (I have a huge fear of cliff diving, and I feel that fear keeps me safe). But, how we approach fear can change.

"Anna, I'm not afraid of dieing. To be quite honest, it just might be a lovely vacation from all of this. And I'm not afraid of living. I know I have courage to move forward. What brings me to tears is the thought of not being alive while living! The idea of going into cedars everyday for 6 weeks for radiation... the idea that I have a year of herceptin and I can't do a proper cleansing of the toxins in my body because of herceptin's half life... the thought that I'm going to have to fly now with a compression sleeve... "

I'm starting to see that the source of these fears: I have some kind of belief that all of these daily/weekly appointments will limit my freedom...and that limitation scares me.

UUUUUUUgggggggghhhhhhhhh

stomp stomp stomp

breath.

one more breath.

This is crazy.

I don't drive my car without an insurance policy - not because I am afraid of getting into an accident, but because I can relax that it is one less thing that I have to track, create, manifest, control.... The car insurance give me a bit of freedom to not worry about driving. The car insurance supports me.

And it is the same with all these additional western therapies. They are my insurance policy for never ever having to go through this again. The radiation and herceptin actually create more support and freedom within my body.

It is so ironic. I spend years studying alternative therapies, and ways of being, and yet my way through this is with the toxic way. For some reason, that seems the most supportive way to me.

And I have the courage to rise above my perceived lack of freedom and move forward - kicking and screaming - but I still, I move forward with the radiation and drugs.

I have space now to see my new body

I have space now to see my new body.

I look at the 4 week old scar on my belly from where they took all the fat for my breasts. I touch the uneaven, undulating, scabbed over skin. I am not scared of this scar. I am not upset it is there.

I touch my cleavage with gentle fingers. I trace my breast all around where it joins the skin. I can feel the place where the feeling ends, but am not bothered, because I so enjoy that I can still feel in all the other places.

I am still numb under my left arm and on my left side where the lymphs were taken out. More scars there. It is not strange to touch the smooth skin where my nipples used to be and not feel anything. I can no longer remember what it used to feel like. There is swelling and numbness on my abdomin above the scar. As the swelling subsides and the nerves that are left start to come back on line they let me know they are pissed off as they jab me to attention, then that area becomes sore to the touch.

All the nerves that were severed will grow back at a rate of 1/2 cm a month.

I love that my breast are still a handfull but smaller. I gleefully show anyone who wants to see that I still have my own cleavage! Aesthetically it is a great start. They will need some more revisions, but that will happen after radiation. For right now, I look like I am wearing a sports bra.

The fat in my breast tissue is starting to soften and settle. I feel a deep bruising on my ribs, under my breasts, and honor that even though I still have breasts, there is pain from where all the original tissue was removed.

Sometimes my breast itches. I go to scratch it and I can't. I can't scratch the itch, coz I don't feel anything in the breast. That freaks me out.

As I get more feeling back in my chest I sit curiously at how different this chest, my new breasts feel. It feels like a gentle weight or pressure is on my chest. It feels like a foreign object is sitting there. I wonder if it will ever feel like a part of me? or do I get used to this heavy feeling as being part of the new me?

Where my belly has been stretched feels like I have been sunburned. The belly skin has stretched enough now to allow me to stand up. I am no longer walking hunched over. I need a lot of work to get my posture back. I am SO happy I did not have to re-arrange my muscles to create my new breasts.

I have a new bellybutton. There is some necrotic tissue forming above it. It will settle into another scar. The plastic surgeon can take care of that scar. I might keep it. I feel freedom in knowing that I have cut the connections to my old ways, and can realign myself with a new center.

I am one of the 6% who developes axillary web syndrome. That means there is a rope like tendon under my armpit that extends above when it used to be and needs to be stretched or put back into place. They say it goes back to normal after 3 months. It is really odd to feel and look at.

My hair is starting to grow back as my eyebrows are falling out. I've got a peach fuzz on my head - sometimes called "chemo fuzz". I hope my new eyelashes grow back as long as they were before.

Everything aches more when I am tired.

I want to cleanse my body of all the toxins. Paige reminds me that I have just had the biggest cleansing of my life! My inner pain has been cut away. I like that.

I feel like my inner imperfections are now on the outside of my body. I relish in the fact my humaness is for my viewing at any time. I feel beautiful with these marks.

I surprise myself at how much I like my changing body and how free I feel!

I'm kinda cancer free

My Oncologist and Breast Surgeon were each vying to be the first to tell me the news.

"In your right sentinal lymph node there was no cancer and in your left sentinal lymph nodes there were cysts. That is a sign that cancer was there, but now it is gone. There was no cancer found in any of your other 24 left lymph nodes and they had a hard time finding cancer in your breasts. They found a few sporatic cancer cells here and there. It's a miracle!"

Dr. G tells me that this kind of result from the chemo happens in only 20% of the people. Usually there it is either the lymphs or the breast that are cancer free, it is rare to find both together at this level.

My first response is: "So, what your telling me is that not finding the cancer means the mastectomy and taking out my lymphs was a bad idea? or a good idea?"

(and I paraphrase) "No, having the mastectomy was definitely a good idea. And there is no other way to know that the cancer is not in your lower lymph nodes without taking them out. What this means is that your cancer is very receptive to the therapies. Statistically speaking you should continue to have good results from the rest of the therapies. We encourage you to continue the therapies and any you will live a long, long life."

The crazy part is I'm not jumping up and down with this information, because I already know that I'm not gonna die from cancer. I look at them a bit blase, because I had already known that doing all of these steps will let me live a long healthy life... otherwise I would have stopped in the middle of chemo and chosen another path.

I also know that for me, this cancer is one of the most intense initiation I have ever experienced.

The hard part is that I already knew the cancer was mostly gone, and at the same time I was very clear that I needed to have the double mastectomy and axillary dissection.

Having the double mastectomy was not a hard choice. That was easy. I have 2 risk factors for breast cancer, and now they are both gone. The hard place was lymph node removal. Whenever I check in with my intuition, I kept getting a resounding, "Yes, you need to have them removed." I don't like the idea of having the lymphs of my body, the pathways of clearing and cleaning, the body's pump eliminated. And my form of 'spiritual' does not include elephantitis of the arm!

I'm afraid of that.

But there is something here for me to learn. Yet another gate.

Do I trust my intuition?

Yes. I knew the cancer was gone. And I also knew that the next step on this journey was to have the lymphs removed.

Could I have kept the lymphs and led a happy life and die of old age?

Probably.

Why did I not fight to keep my lymphs?

Because I made a commitment to not fight this process. Keeping my lymphs would have been a bit of an uphill battle to explain to everyone that would continue to take a lot of my energy for many years. And I don't have that kind of energy.

Would I have felt sure and settled that the cancer was gone if I kept my Lymphs?

No. There is something about following the path of Common Practice of Care that is an important. It offers some kind of insurance policy for long term that makes me feel safer, and I know each step is an important part of this humbling journey.

Sometimes we are called to do things that we don't want to do, or we think how it looks on the outside is 'wrong' or 'bad' or 'not right'. And in my world, the taking out of my lymphs looked like a bad idea, yet inside it felt right.

I have been choosing what has felt right this whole time, and I am continually shown grace through my choices, so I continue to listen to my intuition. As hard as it is for my mind, I choose the path of what feels right.

And I settle deeper into my body. I begin to feel the pain, and the hurt.

I begin to feel my body.

for real this time, not just words.

I feel like recovery from the surgery is harder than chemo.

Chemo is hell. Utter hell. but it is doable, coz the hell only lasts for 2-3 days.

Surgery is harder for me because I've been so immobile for so long. And my body hurts. Being is physical pain is very new for me.

And I have very little creative or communication ability. There is a lack of motivation to write on my blog. But this is different than the 'nothingness' of chemo. It is not 'blah'. It is not 'depression'. What is it.... It is a conservation of my energy.

I can feel how much energy it is taking to get my body back to health. How much it is taking to really be - not my old self - but my new self. It is so hard to explain.

Here I am, the same Elizabeth, with the same blue eyes, and the same way of seeing the world... yet I am SO different - physically, and I am seeing things with clearer lenses.

I'm not doing my old routine of, "Pain killers are so bad for the body...." or "In the past my nose never dripped..." Who the hell wants to listen to that drama and pointless defenses anymore? I can now own the places in myself where I have been addicted to the drama, frustration and chaos in others and in life. And within that addiction, I can see how I have needed it to define who I am, for this addiction is what I grew up with, this addiction is what I know, this addiction is what I bounce off of to feel me.

I can feel a simplicity settling in.

I move my body and stretch. I try and raise my arms and stop from the tightness in my muscles, but it does not anger me. Of course my arms won't raise over my head, I just had a double masectomy and an axillary disection on my left arm! And I am okay with this.

I think this is what is called acceptance.

I can go back to work this week but I'm being kind and not pushing myself. No prenatals before 11am. People are calling me to be their midwife and I turn them down. I don't want to work so hard physically anymore.

I am being easy on myself.

I have been spending a lot of time with my parents, who have come to California for the month to support me. I can now understand why I put such high expectations on myself. Why I have been so hard on myself. Why I am so critical of myself and to my surprise: others. I had to do that in order to survive. It is what helped me feel safe within so much chaos and overwhelm. In order to get here now, that is what I needed to do.

I decide to speak to my own heart that has been addicted to pointing out that others need to be the problem. Basically I talk to the original victim, who after all this work is still here. I tell my heart that she is not bad, and that this addiction is what she is used to, the only way she knows how to define herself; but, it is not who she is. This heart is not this addiction. And back then I may have had not other choices, but now, in 2009, I do have other choices. And I make a choice to open up my eyes and know that I can be my own healthy parent and make good choices. And I do all this with love and kindness for myself and the other.

I declare that I am 40 years old and my parents are no longer taking care of me, I am taking care of me. So, I don't need to be so hard on myself, and I don't have to have such high expectations because I am choosing to no longer live in the overwhelm. I have other choices today. For instance, I can actually listen to my body and respond by saying, "No." "No thank-you." "No, I don't want to." or "No. That does not work for me".

And when I say that, I am no longer saying, "NO! Leave me the fuck alone and get out of my space." or "NO! You are wrong and I am right!" or "NO! I am not responsible for you!"

The anger and the charge is now gone. Now, I can say, "No. I am now going to express to you how much I love myself by making sure I continue to regulate my own nervous system, take care of my own energy, discern what healthy support looks like and choose the health in my system. So, no thank you. You are not wrong and don't need to change, but I need to go now." And I take myself out of a situation before I get overwhelmed, and take care of me while I still enjoy them.

And as I express this loving "No" to my parents, I release them of the responsibility to take care of me, I forgive them for all that has happened in the past and I no longer have any expectations that they need to change.

I know that I can now do all this with responsibility, spcaiousness and kindness.

And within that process I am able to soften and release more energy for healing. I am able to accept my parents as they are. To accept myself as I am. To accept others as they are.

And as I do that, I realize that not only has my inner critic has left the building, but that my inner critic had a lot more power in my life than I let myself believe! I'm shocked at how I have been running a racket and fooled even myself - in my own head for years! God, I'm good.

And then something strange begins to occur... I find myself spontaneously forgiving myself. People will be talking to me and there I am forgiving myself for the critical thoughts I have in my head: for hearing myself make them wrong, for hearing my mind beat on me, for witnessing how I compare myself to them... and then watching how all of that creates a high expectation for myself... WOW! I am pretty damn clever AND what a waste of energy!

No longer is forgiveness a bunch of words and prayers that I need to memorise. It is now a spontaneous, viseral experience.

No tears. No drama. I just stand there listening to someone speak to me and there it is: forgiveness plane and simple.

And I dance on the edge of feeling that accepting them is accepting me. That forgiving them is forgiving me.

Finally, I am stepping off the gerbil wheel in my head.

I can feel the creakings of my heart begin to open. Is this what loving others is really about?

And then the simplest of all miracles occurs. I find that my parents no longer annoy me. I can actually laugh at my parents. I find myself actually enjoying them. And I can feel the love they have for me start to trickle in - for real this time, not just words.

Post Op details

After I left Sufi, my cancer partner in crime, behind in the waiting room, I walked into the pre-operating room where I was surrounded by my team of Loving Doctors... Dr. Schneider (my OB/GYN) - who was there co-incendently for another surgery, came by to say hi and hold my hand, Dr. Kristi Funk (my breast surgeon) was ready to go in and operate first and Dr. Lisa Cassileth (my plastic surgeon) was there to mark my breasts for Kristi. While lieing there looking up I saw the smiles of three beautiful women looking down at me, and I knew how blessed I am with having not only skilled, but loving doctors, who actually care about me as a patient and woman.

I actually felt safe and happy.

I gave my request to my doctors, "Please play whatever music will make you happy and enjoy yourselves! I trust you all and want to encourage you to let your artist self out and have fun!"

And I meant it.

The last thing I remember was being told in the operating room that the oxygen mask was being switched to something else that would put me to sleep.

10 hours later I remember yelling out, "Sufi! Sufi! Where are you Sufi?"

Sufi told me that someone went outside to the waiting room looking for because I was relentless in my drugged induced obsessive request for her presence. Next thing I remember is hearing from behind the curtain, "I'm a doula. I've been to c-sections before. I won't pass out."

I was in the recovery room coming in and out of consciousness. The rumour is I still had my sense of humor about me as I spouted off random bits of information and jokes (that I can't recall), until I made it to my post partum room on the 8th floor at 7:30pm.

There I was met by Rima, my parents and my new favorite person: Alyssa from Nebraska, my nurse.

It was there that I was introduced to my new breasts - which shockingly looked just like my old ones!

I knew that Dr. Funk was known for her skin sparing masectomies, but all the pictures at the doctors offices and web sites showed breast with huge scars from skin being transplanted from somewhere else, plus scars under the breasts and down the front... that is what I was expecting. I had prepared for the worst.

But what I was greeted to was my breast minus my nipples! I knew the nipples would be gone (there is some debate, but they are currently considered an organ, and as I have ductal cancer, that is the number one place for the cancer to grow, the nipple ducts, so they would need to go). But somehow Dr. Funk removed my nipples, scooped out all the breast tissue inside and the lymph on my left side, then Dr. Cassileth AND her Surgical Partner (that is 2 plastic surgeons) worked for 7 hours each to take all the fat from my belly to surgically sew it back into my breasts with vessels and arteries from my belly area. No muscle is needed in this procedure - which is called a DIEP Flap breast reconstruction.

I am hoping that after all the swelling has gone down that my breast will be aesthetically sound enough to NOT need any kind of implants. It will all depend on what it looks like in 3 weeks. I knew that some of my belly skin would be used to make new nipples, but I was expecting some of my belly skin to be used to make new breasts too! I was not expecting that all of my breast tissue - including my very own cleavage with its moles, freckles and normal wear and tear to greet me!

When I looked down my hospital gown, there they were, my 40 year old, over-sun exposed cleavage and breasts - but a bit fuller and higher up than I remembered. Granted, when I touched them I felt nothing in the breasts, (and I was also feeling no pain anywhere in my body - I'm a big huge fan of dilaudid); but, I could still feel all the familiar lumps and bumps in my finger tips! And I could still do one of my favorite things: pet my own cleavage!

And regarding the scaring - yes I will have a big scar on my bikini line from where they had to remove the skin and fat (and a flat as a board tummy left behind :) , but that was not a worry for me, because if they could get enough fat I will not need to have any implants. And on the breasts, the ONLY scars I have are around the nipple area. There are no scars under the breasts, or down the front of the breasts or anywhere else except the nipple area! And that is a no brainer, because it will all be covered up by a tatoo artists down the road.

Yes, there is more work to do as the swelling subsides and the fat settles into place, but I am BEYOND thrilled to look down and see the familiar.

I am constantly amazed at the grace and awe that continues to unfold in front of me.

endings and beginning

"What appears to be an ending, is perhaps a beginning." - anonymous

This is what I woke up to posted on the elevator at my parent's place. And it is very apprepo.

I am strangely excited. I feel so well supported. So loved, by so many.

I don't want to rush this place, or skip over any feelings, but what an opportunity I have to offer up all those old ways of being, my old beliefs to literally receive the new ways that I so so want to have in my life!

I'm being called into the pre-op room. I am told that I have to leave my valuables behind.... along with a lot of other things that I thought were valuable, but in actually, they really aren't....

I'll see everyone on the other side