Intuition is a crazy-cool feeling. It’s like a fluid motion that I cannot grab for or hold onto when it comes. It’s not a thought. It’s more of a visual accompanying feelings that give me words, but there are no words that make it up. Sometimes I feel like it’s like a cloud that moves through me. I think. Trying to describe it, I’m not sure I’m labeling things correctly. I wonder if it’s the same feelings for others. When I told my description to Michael, he understood what I was trying to say. [More on Michael in another (probably many) blog]. I’ve tried seeking intuition. I haven’t been successful. It seems to come when I’ve been struggling with something for a while; trying to figure it out or maybe even control it. Only when I surrender to the process—let it be what it is; accept it for what it is—does the intuition come. And when it does, when I am quiet and accepting truth as it is, and not how I want it to be, it is a very brief and completely beautiful, quiet cloud that passes through me, effortlessly and quickly. There’s a really quick process of my brain putting words to it. I can feel the words coming to meet, almost meshing with it, but it is very evident that the feeling is there before the words come. And it’s amazingly peaceful and perfect. There is no judgment to it, just facts. There is, however this incredible feeling when it occurs. It is almost a physical feeling, but more emotionally charged. At first I thought I felt special because I could feel the intuition. Then I realized that it wasn’t that at all, but something even better. Vastly better! I felt connected. I am pretty certain that I felt connection to a force. That force being the Universe or God or the Great Spirit or whatever you need to call it. AND to everyone else who is connected also. Or maybe everyone, period. I don’t know! What I do know is that it was powerful, free, encompassing, truth and love. It was as if those things were tangible but only to my spirit.
I’ve had intuitive feelings before. ‘Don’t go there. ‘ ‘Don’t say this to that person.’ And of course, ‘No! Don’t date him! Run!’ Sometimes I’ve even heeded my intuition. Sometimes. I want to share about some of my intuitive experiences that occurred a few months ago. I had been diagnosed with recurrent, metastatic cervical cancer in May, 2018. My elder daughter was getting married in July, and when the doctor stated that I needed to do chemotherapy “for quality of life,” I just knew I could not be bald at her wedding. I told the doctor this, and she stated that it was fine to wait because “it won’t matter anyway.” I also knew that “quality of life” is what they give to terminally ill patients, but she didn’t give me a prognosis. I asked the doctor if I was going to die. She patted my knee and didn’t say anything, just gave me a look that I interpreted as confirmation. I then asked, “Do I have a year?” and she said, “I don’t know. I hope so.” My husband and I left crying and feeling lost. I felt hopeless. Ten months before, when I was diagnosed for the first time, the doctor who had done the biopsy told me that “women don’t usually die of cervical cancer.” And before the radical hysterectomy, the doctor told me that my tumor was very small and the surgery would take care of the cancer and I would be fine. WTF?! Now I had to go through chemotherapy, lose my hair, feel horrid, and then die a painful and horrible death while leaving my husband a widower and my daughters motherless. Oh! The doctor also told us that, in March, they found that the type of surgery that she had performed on me was not the best course of action. It’s May. Again, WTF?! She had not called or notified me of this, just waited to see? Yikes. That night my husband and I met up with some friends in Laughlin. We hung out and had as much fun as we could. My head was very busy with doom and gloom. Making shit up is really juicy at this point. I pray daily. I had even done some brief meditations, but thought I was failing at it, so not much. That night I prayed. I was crying and snotting all over my pillowcase. I told God, “I cannot possibly fight this shit without hope, and I have no hope. Please give me some hope.” I cried myself to sleep. I woke up the next morning with a crazy, physical and emotional charge. It filled me up! I knew God had heard me and filled me with hope. I decided that I could not allow my vanity to get in the way of fighting this. My daughter couldn’t give two shits if I am bald or not! She just wants her Momma to help with and be at her wedding! I shared this with my husband, and we were on the same page. Fight it like a girl! Kick cancer’s ass! The next morning I called my doctor’s office and requested to start chemo on the date they had scheduled for me: June 12th. She said that date was already taken. Panic! Fear! Then she said, “How about May 30th?” I laughed out loud, told her I would take it, and thanked her for putting up with my fickle decision-making. She assured me she understood. I was confident this was the right decision. My family was all very positive and encouraged me to put my health first. Of course. I still, however, had this nagging feeling about my doctor. I was also very angry. She knew for two months that it wasn’t the correct course of action, and she did not make a simple phone call to bring me in to check me. I found out about the recurrence because I got blood clots in my arms in early April and the hematologist I was able to see referred me for my PET scan in May, two months before it was due. I also felt so uncomfortable with her vague responses to our concerns. This is a human life. Be specific! Be pro-active! She said it wouldn’t matter if we waited until after the wedding. Are you kidding me?! Get in there now! So you won’t have hair, you’ll be alive! That is what I think she should have said. Instead, she was not positive. She was NOT my cheerleader. I knew I had to have a different Oncologist. I knew I needed to have a doctor that would take and use his/her expertise to give me the best possible care and solutions available to me. I needed a doctor who sees me as a human life, not just a notch on a surgical belt. I needed my professional, trained doctor to be as optimistic as possible so that I could be too! So I did it. I called a few days later and requested to change. My new doctor (he isn’t new to us anymore) is an awesome guy! He speaks to us like we are humans with issues that he has the solutions to. He is kind and genuinely cares about me, Shannon. He answers all of our questions and takes as much time as we need. He is a beautiful soul. I can feel his goodness shining out of him. I am so grateful! During the period of chemotherapy, my attitude and outlook was amazingly positive most of the time. I tend towards depression and negativity, and have my whole life, so I knew this new outlook and attitude was from God. I started praying and meditating each morning and evening. I also stopped several times throughout the day so I could focus on being right here, right now. This moment. Not the future. I had no idea of the outcome of all this, so making shit up in my head seemed so pointless! Yay! I also started saying affirmations at the suggestion of a friend of a friend. “I am cured. I am healthy. I am living.” As long as something positive followed “I am” I was good with saying it. I said them several times a day. One day, about three days before the second PET scan, I was sitting on my back patio saying my affirmations. I said, “I am cured,” and I knew it was true. I felt it intuitively. I called my friend Michael because he is Michael. I told him what happened and told him that I was fearful of believing it because I want to trust my intuition, and if the scan turns out ugly, then I cannot trust myself. We talked for a bit, and just before we hung up, Michael said, “You can trust your intuition.” So….. I don’t know if God did it because I deserve it, or if He did it because I don’t deserve it but He just felt like it, or if science did it because God created some great scientific brains. Maybe none. Maybe a combination or just by chance ( i do NOT believe in chance!), but after three rounds of chemo, there was significant shrinkage in all three tumors. After three more rounds, there is only one small ‘insignificant’ tumor remaining. My doctor walked in and said, “I don’t know what to say. I am astounded. They’re gone!” Happy tears and snot flowed! The doctor hugged me and shook my husband’s hand. I asked if this changed the prognosis. He paused. I said, “ I am asking because I want to know about going back to work.” He asked if I wanted to go back to work. I said, “Yes, I think so.” He paused. He said he didn’t think it would be a good idea for me to go back to work. He said I have a stressful job, and that I need to focus on healing. He said he’d rather me not go back to work. Period.
to be continued.