Thriving Past Cancer: Marine's Journey

I know it has been a long time since my last post, but I’ve been abiding by the direct orders of my eastern and western medical practitioners. My oncologist, acupuncturist, life coach, and even family practitioner has each in their own right ordered me to “live.”  After granting me a clean bill of health, I can’t help but ask, “What now?”  They have each in their own time and turn responded with the same directive, “Live!”  Simple.  One word.  Yet, so complex.  When unpacked, intricacies emerge. What does it mean? How does one forget the trauma of the past? How does one live? Why is there not a manual for this when there's a manual for everything else?  It has taken me over a year to realize that there is no one answer and there is no one way. It is a journey, unique and different for each person.  My healing journey started this last summer. While in Scotland, my BCF (which is how she likes to refer to herself, o...

Recently a student approached me and asked, "Ms, will you please help me put on a talent show for our school?" I asked, "Why? Why do we need one?" Her response, "Because people need to smile more!" This child and I share a common secret. I know the depths of the hell she's endured as surely as she knows the ones I walked through last year. She hasn't shared her truth with others. I'm not quite sure how many people actually know. But when I lay in my hospital bed last year, a pigeon in the guise of a fellow educator brought me a message from her, one which she hoped would give me enough strength with which to rise out of my darkness. I held on to her testimony as the days melted into each other. Had she not shared, had her words evaporated in her mind- Her word-her journey- her testimony shaped my today. Just like each of our words will shape the lives of others. I haven't actively sought out others. They seem to find me, be it a...

Last week I couldn't help but research what it was I'd ingested for six months. It was the third week after my last chemo session and although my mind knew it was all over and that I didn't have to go in this last Monday for another chemo infusion, a pattern is a pattern.  Emotionally, I couldn't shake the fear that what I had called a norm for the last six months was not in fact "the norm." I wanted to go hiking with my eldest and swimming with my youngest and the fact that I couldn't meet either of their or my wants was crippling. My eyes were like overflowing wells and my soul trembled like a leaf. The stress was crippling.   So how did I pull myself together? I let it wash over me.  I cried in church this last Sunday as we discussed stress and the people, places, and practices that help us deal with its onslaught. I couldn't tell you why I cried, but I did. Fear of "it" returning? Fear that the end wasn't the end? Fear that I...