TODAY I AM ONLY HUMAN

Today I took my rescue pup out on a hike, because I couldn't manage my emotions in any other way than ignoring them and giving a gift to someone other than myself. It did help, but the sun has fallen and my spirit is singing a sad song to me once again.
To catch you up on things, I had my bilateral mastectomy and reconstruction surgery, that's 2 surgeries, the first in September and the second 3 months later in December to finish my breast cancer treatment; 4 surgeries in total.  I have really been exhausted and struggling to return to my previous self; some say that is an impossibility, and, perhaps, that is a truth I have to reckon with yet. Everything about my cancer experience was as perfect as one could hope for, so YES, I feel pathetic for feeling pathetic. My friends, most of them, and some I never expected, showed up for me in ways I never imagined; they cooked for me, they prayed for me, they massaged me and gave me healing treatments, they brought flowers, cards, they visited and took me on walks, drove me to appointments, and in every way possible, they let me know they were ready to do whatever it took to carry me through this in the most loving ways. I was blessed. My husband and daughter took tender care of me. I could write an entire blog on the wonder of my husband's love during this time. What's more, I meditated and prayed and asked for perfect surgeries with perfect healing and a beautiful outcome, and I received. Let me say that again, I received. I meditated and visualized a mastectomy minus gas anesthesia and steroids, minus infection, and minus pain.  I wanted my doctors to speak to me during my surgery about healing well, and having zero nausea post-op and being hungry. I wanted to listen, unheard of at my hospital, to music that soothed my soul. I wanted only female doctors working on me. The day of my mastectomy, my husband and I showed up at the hospital at the required time of earlier than dawn, or as The Grateful Dead would say, "It must be getting early, the clocks are running late." (That's a good song for this occasion as a matter of fact.) What do you think happened? A female nurse anesthetist walks in and says she will administer my anesthesia and I asked for all my stipulations to be met. She said without hesitation, "that's fine, we can do that." Imagine, I mean visualize, that! My surgeons were also female and, now, I can say that they are humanitarians and artists as well. I was given perfect results. I suffered little. Truly, I managed my pain with advil and valium. I had no infections. My diabetes remained well managed. I was blessed. I am blessed. My reconstruction is wondrously beautiful and this I am told by completely objective practitioners. Cancer did not win, I did. I won in the realms of the physical and spiritual, and love, LOVE rocked my soul. I kept reminding myself that which I truly believe: Worry is the opposite of Faith and it is a Denial of the Divinity within. I believed.
Today I do not feel blessed. I'm sad. For the first time in my life, I question my every move up to my cancer diagnosis, and I feel really down about feeling this way. Why can't I just appreciate without returning my sight on the cancer with all it's how's and why's? Who is this person in my head? This is what it is to be human. Being unable to focus on my blessings seems much like an act of cursing the sun to me. I struggle.
I took my pup on a hike today to get away from myself.

DISTRACTION AND REFLECTION; ME AND CANCER

My bilateral mastectomy is just a little over a month away on September 4th. This is a curious time, I'm not too interested in talking about the "cancer" or the "surgery" right now; I'm certain this is yet another coping mechanism to protect me from the scariness and the surrender that I know I would resist if I gave the surgery too much thinking energy. I, also, cannot bear to hear anyone speak to me about it as if they know, unless of course they do, then chatter away PLEASE, but don't fill my head with the negatives that can be, only give me the news of easy healing and painless post-op recovery. I wish I could tell you how many people share their compassionate concern with me from the most ignorant place one can stand, some of them, convinced they understand, with the gaul of asking me how I am feeling, or am I better today? Believe me, I am by no means angry about their misperception, just marveling at it all. Cancer is a different world, none like I've ever known. It is indeed a place of fatigue, exhaustion-mentally and physically, worry, fear, loss, grief, hopelessness, helplessness, mutilation, mistrust in doctors and treatments and sometimes in one's own judgement, a place of confusion, a sense of warped reality as in "What the Fuck just happened! I was fine yesterday. Is this real?," a place of preoccupation to the nth degree with one's mortality, inundation with daunting questions: "when this is gone, will it return somewhere else?, "how will I feel without my breasts? will I be off balance? will I look or feel less beautiful than before? will my husband think I am? will everyone notice like the "Scarlet Letter" on my chest? will I cope? or will I crash into self-pity?" So, with all of that going on in my head, I'm trying really hard to keep myself busy. I have all of those lists to complete, you know the ones that we let ourselves delay like cleaning the kitchen cabinets, tossing the pile of mail we haven't dealt with; I just know if I have that list staring at me post-op, I won't be able to rest. I am a doer and I will have to have it done in order to rest and heal. I know, it is a distraction also, so what! Let it be, who needs the reality of cancer and losing their breasts staring them in the face? Not I, not you.  
I have other work to do as well in the immediate future, some of which I have briefly attempted. I know I had a predisposition to breast cancer, it runs far and wide in my family, a little on my father's side and a lot on my mother's side, but I also know it takes the right terrain to grow cancer. I'm taking some responsibility for this myself, you can argue all you want and try to tell me it's not my fault and all the reasons may, in fact, sound reasonable, logical. I know I am frustrated with my life and have been for a few years. I tend to let my day follow the schedule of those in my life that I love and, in essence, lose time for the things I desire, the things I need to thrive. It's been too long living life this way and allowing myself to fall into the recesses of everyone else's identity. I began to feel less of a knowing of who I am individually and autonomously. I began to die. Some days I feel invisible. By the end of the day, when others are easing into their rest, I think I can, finally, do that art project or writing project that I desire, but by then I am too tired and another day has gone in which I have not expressed my soul and my spirit's burning light is dimmed. This is not uncommon among women and neither is breast cancer. Is there a link? My intuition told me 4 months before I was diagnosed with breast cancer that I would be diagnosed and to do what I could to  prepare myself. My intuition tells me now to work hard to change these habits of putting my self second to others. I witnessed my Mother and Mother's Mother perform these same behaviors and I was trained well. I know how to take care of others at my own expense and I'm damn tired of it. I can be a loving wife and caring mother and still stand strong in my spirit and I am determined to rethink and re-pattern my day in order to put myself first. Afterall, my life will cease if I don't, this I know. If you love me, don't let me do too much for you when I offer and remind me to put myself first on the list of "to-do's" for the day. I am worth it! If you are processing your life in the same way and you are a woman: CHANGE NOW. Love yourself first, this goes against what most women were taught, DO IT ANYWAY! Other's can survive and will survive and can wait for you and will wait for you OR they can do whatever needs to be done themselves. Stand tall in your spirit and cultivate it. You will soon learn that you are the driving force in your family and your wisdom will deepen when you devote yourself to what ever it is that your spirit desires. Be strong and then stay strong. Your husband will love you more and your daughter's life will be spared the pain when she is a mature woman. This I wish for you and for my own life.

"HONEY, THERE'S A STORM COMING"

Okay, so it's true that I haven't posted here in a while, well, since March. That's when my life changed and things won't ever quite be the same for me. I was diagnosed with breast cancer in April. But, let me back up a bit. Three years ago, my mother was diagnosed with invasive breast cancer, with that I sought out genetic testing, which meant I had to meet with a genetic counselor after first meeting with an Oncologist. Fine. My testing for the BRCA (Breast Cancer) genes came back negative for me. Apparently, that doesn't really mean you are in the clear if you have an extensive family history as I do. What that does mean is that I have a genetic mutation, one that has yet to be identified scientifically. It was recommended that I be put under "surveillance" for cancer and followed by the Oncologist and, being the proactive gal that I am, that is exactly what I did. I began having a mammogram, then six months later I would have a MRI, and yearly I was followed for breast exam by an Oncologist. This went on for 3 years.  In December of last year, while at my Oncologist appointment, the breast manual exam was without abnormalities then the doctor left the room to get some information for me, while she was gone something happened to me that I can only describe as a precognitive knowing. As if someone whispered in my ear and said, "Honey, there is a storm coming," I knew breast cancer was in my future. I knew clearly, without a shade of gray of a doubt. When the Oncologist came back into the room, I looked at her with fear in my eyes and a knowing of certainty like I've never experienced before, I told her I needed to have a prophylactic bilateral mastectomy. I knew then that I wasn't going to escape this. I went straight home and told my husband who, like the Oncologist, thought I was reacting irrationally. I waited, partly in fear of the truth, to have my mammogram. In March, after much pressure from my subconscious mind, I finally had my mammogram. Sure enough, I was called back for a re-do,.....second mammogram: suspicious. I immediately had ultrasound by a technician and then the radiologist came in, examined me, and looked at me as a scolding parent would saying several times: "You need to act on this now, don't wait, get to a surgeon!" He said my suspicious lump had calcifications and a blood supply to it; these are characteristics of a cancerous tumor. I was in surgery within a week for an excisional biopsy. Three days later the call came in by my surgeon telling me it was exactly as we suspected: malignant. Now what? My pathology was described as the "best" breast cancer you can be diagnosed with. Was that the silver lining? I was also told that I needed a second surgery, followed by 6 weeks of radiation and a 5-10 years course of estrogen blocker oral medication to put me straight in hell, I mean menopause. Within one week, I learned about breast cancers of various presentations, I met with the Oncologist again to discuss my options and learn about my cancer (MY cancer) I met with an Oncology Radiologist to discuss treatment and side effects, I met with 3 plastic surgeons, and breast surgeons to discuss my options for Bilateral Mastectomy. I attended a support group to meet other women survivors undergoing treatments for breast cancer, many receiving chemo; this is when I knew, without further question, the only treatment plan for me was the Bilateral Mastectomy. My risk for recurrence following the treatment of this cancer was 40 plus percent with radiation,, too high for this survivor girl. I then went into surgery again for what is called a lumpectomy, during this surgery, a larger section, the size of a golf ball, is removed around where the tumor resided in the breast. Success! All the margins came back clear from pathology and they say the cancer has been totally removed. Because cancer is so unpredictable, the radiation was prescribed to eradicate cancer stem cells left behind. I chose Bilateral Mastectomy instead of all other treatments, supposedly this will be as close to a cure for future breast cancer one can get. With this choice, I won't need radiation, estrogen blockers, and will never, ever need a mammogram again in my lifetime. I'm scheduled for my surgery on September 4th. I took a good long time to find a good surgeon and plastic specialist for reconstruction. I'm happy with my decision, it's the only one for me. I could not withstand the every six month surveillance anymore, wondering and waiting to hear the cancer word again or endure countless needle or surgical biopsies. I'm scared for sure, no doubt. I'm also certain that with the love, prayers, and support of friends and family I can survive this as well. I've had my share of tragedies in my life thus far and I know all of them have prepared me for the strength I need to face this surgery, the mutilation, the reconstruction, the suffering. I can do this. Life is good!

JALAPENO CHEDDAR CORNBREAD

My brother, Gary, and I ate a load of cornbread and beans as children. This was one of our Mother's favorite meals and she made it a lot. We didn't have much choice in the matter, so as my Mother would say, "if you are hungry, you will eat it"...so we did, mostly. My brother can barely even stand to speak of beans to this day, but cornbread, well, that is another story. This recipe post is for him. I figure he can make his own cornbread these days and make it spicy and cheesy just as he likes it best. I love you brother, ENJOY!


JALAPENO CHEDDAR CORNBREAD

COMBINE:
1 CUP FLOUR, (I use 1/2 cup white and 1/2 cup wheat)
1 CUP YELLOW CORNMEAL
1 TABLESPOONFUL BAKING POWDER
1/2 TEASPOONFUL SEA SALT
1 1/2 - 2 TABLESPOONFUL SUGAR

IN A SEPARATE BOWL, BEAT TOGETHER:
2 EGGS
1 CUP MILK
3 TABLESPOONFULS OLIVE OIL

POUR INTO COMBINED DRY INGREDIENT MIXTURE. STIR UNTIL JUST MIXED. THIS MIXTURE SHOULD BE THE CONSISTENCY OF A THICK CAKE BATTER. ADD EXTRA MILK IF NEEDED, I DID! REMEMBER A DRY BATTER EQUALS A DRY CORNBREAD, BUT ACCOUNT FOR THE WATER IN YOUR FROZEN CORN.....

ADD IN, GENTLY MIX (TOO MUCH MIXING EQUALS TOUGH BREAD AND AIR POCKETS)
1 1/4 CUP SHREDDED CHEDDAR CHEESE
2-4 JALAPENOS, CHOPPED
1/2 UP TO 1 CUP CORN, STILL FROZEN OR CANNED OR FRESH, CUT FROM THE COB

PREHEAT OVEN TO 400 DEGREES. NOW YOU HAVE A CHOICE. YOU CAN POUR THIS MIXTURE INTO AN 8X8 PAN SPRAYED WITH NON-STICK SPRAY AND BAKE
       OR
AND THIS IS YOUR BEST CHOICE!
PLACE AN IRON SKILLET, SPRAYED WITH NON-STICK SPRAY AND WITH A FEW TABLESPOONFULS OF OLIVE OIL POURED INTO IT, INTO THE OVEN TO HEAT, ONCE HOT POUR THE OIL INTO YOUR BATTER, STILL GENTLY AND THEN POUR YOUR BATTER INTO YOUR SKILLET AND PLACE IN THE OVEN TO BAKE 25-35 MINUTES, CRISPY ON TOP AND COOKED THROUGH THE CENTER- CHECK WITH EITHER A KNIFE OR TOOTHPICK.
LOVE IT!

WATERMELON SALAD WITH MINT

This is a great option for watermelon in the summer, when there is so much delicious watermelon around. I recently took this to a gathering of my artists friends and everyone said they expected it to be tomatoes! Yes, you could make this with tomatoes and basil, instead of mint and watermelon, if you do change out the feta for mozzarella and celebrate Caprese style! Hope you enjoy this, it is easy and so very refreshing.

• WATERMELON SALAD WITH MINT
  
  
  • 1 (5-pound) watermelon
  • 1 Vidalia or other sweet onion, sliced thinly
  • 1/4 cup Balsalmic vinegar
  • pepper
  • 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
  • Chopped fresh mint leaves (I use an entire pack from the
  produce dept!)
  • 8 ounces feta cheese, cubed or crumbled (Goat cheese feta is the best)
  • 6 whole mint sprigs for top of salad-presentation
  
  
  Cut the flesh from the melon and cut into bite size pieces, removing and discarding the seeds, (buy a seedless, organic one!), and set aside. Peel and slice the onion into rings. Add the onion, mint, and the feta to the watermelon. Don't stir yet.
  In a small bowl, combine the vinegar, and pepper, and whisk. Slowly whisk in the olive oil, until blended well. 
  Pour the dressing over the melon mixture and toss gently until everything is coated and evenly mixed. Garnish with mint sprigs. 
  

  

  
  If you want to add salt to this, do it on the individual servings, as the salt will pull the water from the melon and make your dish soggy and sloppy.
  
  

Love and Peace of Mind--MY SAVIORS

...."Love and Peace of Mind do protect us, they allow us to overcome the problems that life hands us.

they teach us to survive...to live now...to have the courage to confront each day and utilize our pain and

 suffering as motivators and redirectors.

..."Illness and death are not signs of failure; what is a failure, is not living."



----Bernie Siegel

I spent many a day in the years of my twenties reading Bernie Siegel's books. Looking back, I can see I was preparing myself for struggles I had no way of foreseeing. Life is funny that way. I struggle in this hour from the errands of the day, physically and emotionally. My nervous system has been firing full fuel since a mishap at the dental office several weeks ago. A simple error sent the PTSD into complete, "show-up and be noticed" character. Rage is nearby ready to bite your head off at the slightest annoyance. Running errands, as I did today, standing in lines full with sound and people, bright florescent lights, ..you know what I mean, makes my life at times simply unbearable. More unbearable I should say. Staying home hidden away from it all is not a remedy. The PTSD alone makes life so miserable for me when it is fully awaken that I cry and rage over absolutely nothing in particular or normal. I feel pretty desperate for relief and my heart has fallen, losing it's focus on hope and a better day. I am not living. I wish I could tell you tonight that I know tomorrow will be better, but, honestly, I don't know that as a truth I can hold. Saying that to you all brings tears to my eyes. I have never felt so much despair and loneliness as I do in these days. The utter fear of hurting myself or causing another pain is so terribly intense. I wish I could tell you that I fear losing my mind, but that is what an ignorant person would concern themselves with.  This is not madness as some might suppose, but the inability to live blissfully after witnessing madness. Madness.
Where is the Love to save me and give me Peace of Mind when the rage wants to the only one present?
How can I believe in anything when, after so many months of joy and freedom, the rage visits me again?
Bernie, maybe I'll get one of your wonder books out tonight and search for a magical meaning to quench the thirsty rage, to calm the beast, so to speak.

I am Love.
I seek Peace.
I need Peace of Mind.
I am Love.

I HAVE HOPE FOR THE HUMAN RACE

It has been a tragic summer in Colorado. We have had several wild fires due to the drought and severely high temperatures for the state. Worse still, last week, we as a state, were once again victims of a mass shooting. This is the 3rd tragedy of this kind since I moved here in 1993...the Chucky Cheese shooting, Columbine, and this week's, Aurora shooting.
I hesitate to blog about it, as I have been guarded about what news I take in or allow myself to hear or read, for fear the violence will inhabit my body as I know so well that it has the potential take me down. I know what life is like for that of the victim's loved ones. If you have read any of my blog, you know about me, that my sister was murdered by the hands of her angry boyfriend, you know my story. If you know me, you know I suffer from this violence on a daily basis. Without boundaries, I have the ability to empathize til I'm physically unable to move. I kid you not. I know that as the days go by, other events in Colorado will take over and folks will speak less and less about the Aurora shooting; I know life goes on. I know folks say things to the survivor victims and the family victims as if one could grieve enough, or cry enough, or fear enough, and so "now, get over it." It doesn't work that way. We are love beings and when our world clashes with hate, we do not, as much as we think, adapt. We watch violent entertainment like children with candy. I can tell you, violence is not entertainment. These survivors know this now as I do. I am not amused with killings on the screen. I know what murder is. It's not entertaining. It's not humorous.

 I know that life changes in the most unimaginable ways following murderous violence for the survivors, ways that you cannot understand unless you've been initiated into this unpopular club. I can tell you that you do not know what violence is really like, what evil looks like, until you've seen it from this vantage point. A curtain has been drawn for us and child-like innocence and fearlessness is no more. Humans don't adjust to exposure to violence, we hold it trapped in our bodies until something happens to awaken it and then, off we go again into a state re-experiencing the event: fear, pain, loss, anxiety, increased boundaries, fear of crowds, sleeplessness, loud noises, fear of others, fear... Open your heart to us, be patient, give support, offer whatever you can to ease us through the difficult days.

The only bit of film I've watched at any length about the Aurora shootings, was the tiny bit captured of actor, Christian Bale's visit. I still can't release the burden that appeared on his face when he was at the memorial. I can't understand why folks expected him to come. I struggle with understanding too much and I ask myself, "how is this relevant to me and my experience."  I know how the victim's families feel, but what I can't empathize with and I struggle to feel is Christian's position. How awful it would be to be brought into a crime by the perpetrator as if you were somehow pushing his buttons, you too are responsible; responsible for someone's misinterpretation of your art and people died. My heart goes out to him, what a burden, what a shame.

Please don't allow jokes to arise about this crime, it only minimizes the tragedy and the loss and the pain of those who survive. It's a little too inhumane...find another way to cope if you feel uncomfortable. Put arms around someone and give and get a hug. Let's push love out and around us and cushion the world with it.  Give love as much as possible wherever you are and never, never de-humanize yourself in any situation, whether it be on the phone with a bill collector or behind the wheel of a car or waiting in a line too long. Give love, fight back with love. I HAVE HOPE FOR THE HUMAN RACE.