Practice living in the moment

I was going to start with saying that I don’t feel much like writing. That’s not necessarily true. I feel the need to write, to purge my shit on paper, but I don’t want to appear as if I don’t have my shit together. So I feel vulnerable, different, outcast.

I thought that this blog would be all about me living life after a diagnosis of cancer, a prognosis of too little time, and kicking its ass with chemotherapy and a healthier lifestyle. I thought I would only be writing about all the cool shit I am seeing and doing and being a part of because I have this new lease on life. (That is an interesting phrase, eh? Leases expire. Lives do too.)

I have a scan coming up. Before the last couple of scans, during chemotherapy, I went into this process of vacillating between fear and faith. Here I am again. I am not sure how to describe how it came about, except that it was came unannounced, it was sudden, and it literally filled my entire being with tense, wound-up-tight, gripping fear. From that second, I spent the next however-many days until we saw the doctor for the scan results in complete fear of all the what-ifs that my head could conjure up. I picture conjuring up something as taking some serious effort on the conjurer’s part… my head was working. Working hard to give me heavy, ugly, lonely doom and gloom. My head works… present tense.

My husband, Steve!

My husband, Steve.

I met Steve several years before we started dating. He was handsome, and I was interested, but Steve had been separated from his wife and was going back to try again. I wasn’t ready for Steve anyway. I was new in sobriety, my self-esteem was in the dirt, and he was a nice guy—something I didn’t believe I deserved. He spent a few more years working on his marriage, and I spent that time working on my relationships with God, other women, and myself. When we met again, It was because he brought his cute twin grandsons to a gathering we were attending. They are super cuties and were giggling about something, and I was curious. I asked, they explained, we all giggled, and their Papa walked up. He was still handsome. I wasn’t necessarily interested though. I had time to learn to love myself, and being cute wasn’t my only criteria anymore. Far from it. I now had a list of things that were absolute requirements from potential dating partners. Nothing outrageous. I wanted someone who would treat me with respect and showed his goodness; someone with self-respect. I also insisted that he have belief and faith in a Higher Power of his understanding. I had no idea what any of that looked like. (My ex-husband is a good guy, and we were so young, and I was still so codependent and had such a low self-image, that I couldn’t recognize goodness from either of us.) So the criteria were set, it was up to God to deliver if He saw fit. I was finally okay being without a man.

Steve had done some growing of his own. He came to understand that the marriage was not going to work out. They’d been married for many years, but only live together for a quarter of those years. The kids were gone; it was time to let go.

One of the first dates we went on was right around Father’s Day. One of his daughters-in-law sent him a text, and he teared up while reading it silently. I asked him if he was okay, and he read the text to me with more tears and all choked up. She was thanking him for being such a great Dad to her husband and to her. He was crying because he was able to be that Dad to his kids and her. They were tears of gratitude. I was in a bit of shock. I didn’t understand it yet, but I knew I liked that he could cry. And in front of me?!?! That was just so very different and beautiful. I knew I wanted to know more about him. Several months later, when my daughters told me they liked Steve for me, I knew he was really THAT GOOD. My daughters NEVER liked anyone I had dated. And they didn’t like my behavior while dating any of them. It was exciting and fun to date someone I actually liked!! And I didn’t need him to be around 24/7 to feel okay about us. It was amazing. I was actually having a grown-up relationship!!  Steve is perfect for me! He loves to be silly. He doesn’t take himself too seriously… mostly. He’s affectionate. He shows me he loves me. He puts up with my moody nonsense. He adores me. He spoils me! We are growing and learning through life as it comes. I really love and appreciate having him as my life partner. He’s taught me a lot about being in the moment, feelings aren’t facts, and don’t believe everything you think. We tease each other a bit and help one another laugh at ourselves. He has been here for every second of the cancer trauma. It was really hard for him—afraid for me and for himself— and he stayed with me. And he helped me to know that God has a beautiful plan. Oh! And he is still very handsome!!

We’ve been together for over four years, and it keeps getting better. I love how we love one another. It is still amazing!


Who is this Michael she talks about?

I knew from the second I saw him that I needed to know this man. I have known Michael since I was 19 years old. I am 48 now. In all 29 years, we have argued a bit, but never stopped being friends. In fact, our friendship has grown as we have grown. Michael has this incredible sense of and knowledge of himself. He is the first person I met who was okay with being human and imperfect; or rather, perfectly human. Everyone else I knew was in this unspoken competition to be awesome, not allowing others to see their humanness. Michael was into acceptance of how it really is.

Sometimes when we talk, he loses me. He has done so much ‘soul-searching’ that he is really knowledgeable about ‘the human condition.’ He teaches me so much about me. He teaches me so much about how we are all connected and, really how we are all the same. We may have different life experiences and circumstances, but we are all human.

I told Michael that while writing my blog, I steal some of his ideas. Only the ones I understand, though! He said he had no problem with me stealing his ideas and sharing them with whomever.

Because he accepts himself just for who he is, he is exceptionally radiant. His light shines through him, and I feel his genuine want for himself and others to be their authentic selves. He is a beautiful human.

I will have lots of his teachings throughout my blogging.

Connection to the Universe

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.

follow up on fear being a part of life

Fear being a part of life does not mean that I have to allow fear to control my every move. For a long time, I did not know that fear was doing the driving, steering me where it wanted to go—into more fear. I have, through lots of writing and talking with trusted others who have been ‘dealing’ with fear, learned that I do not need to allow fear to run the show. I had a friend tell me to watch my thoughts as if they are going by on a digital screen. Pay attention to the fearful thoughts and feelings. Acknowledge them—I mean, they are there, and ignoring them just makes them fester and pester even more. It’s like fear is the adolescent inside me, but I am still the adult who wants and needs to make responsible adult decisions. I do not need to allow the 14 year old girl, who had been making my life decisions for 25 years too long, to make my choices anymore. I acknowledge her need to speak, I listen to what she has to say, and then I make a choice. IT TAKES A LOT OF PRACTICE TO CHANGE THAT HABIT/BEHAVIOR!! And it is entirely possible. In fact, I found that the first time was the hardest, and it has become easier since. Really, my choices changed, meaning the outcomes of those choices changed. For the better. Mostly. I still get into to fear without realizing that I am in that space, and I make decisions from that space sometimes. I think… no, I believe that that is a part of the human experience. Truly, no one is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone has fear. If I can acknowledge the mistake/fear and grow from the experience, then I think I am doing okay. I have had some experiences where I believe I learned part of the lesson being presented, but I was not ready for the entire lesson. More mistakes had/have to be made, and more fear had to be felt for it to be learned entirely. I find it interesting how my relationship with fear affects the outcome of my learning. If I am in fear of making mistakes or the outcome of a certain situation, and I can’t seem to slow down and breath in God, out Shannon, then the fear seems to multiply exponentially and I spiral down into that fear. Then I get desperate. Desperation can be good! If I am desperate enough to surrender to the process and to God, then the clarity comes. Fear settles down and stops beating me about the face and neck, and then intuition usually pays me a sweet, quiet visit. I can’t say that I love the process because my relationship with discomfort is still scary… it feels like it will never end and I will never find the solution again. I do respect the process though. It is a consistent process. It appears differently sometimes based on the situation, or really, the shit I make up in my head about the situation, and it is the same process each time. And each time I grow a little more. I know more about myself and I am more connected to my spirit and God. That’s just beautiful.

Fear is part of life

Driving home from Sedona today. Actually, I ride shotgun about 99% of the time. My husband likes to drive. I don’t. It works out well. Mostly. I get a little annoyed when he drives like he’s in a race against time. It scares me. And when I have fear, I tend to react. It isn’t always ugly, but I usually need to make amends for my tone or my words. 
Fear, it seems, is a common theme that has had more than its fair share of running my life. Most of it was unbeknownst to me, sneaking around and controlling me. Meanwhile, I kept wondering how things kept happening to me and why people didn’t understand me. Once I became aware of fear and its role in my life, it became impossible to ignore it further. I’m not always aware of the fear that comes in and tries to take over, but once I am, it is a process of awareness, acceptance, surrender, and discovery. The order is iffy and sometimes overlaps and gets entangled. There’s growth too. Not always enough, in my opinion—I mean if I’m going to suffer and struggle at the hands of my own mind making shit up, I should be close to sainthood once through the process. Nope. Not yet, anyway. Maybe someday someone will come along and crown me a saint or martyr, but for now I am a spiritual being having a human experience. Or so I’m told. Some things that I have fear of: going to the store and buying the wrong thing; being chubby forever; staying in the town we currently live in; cancer ‘coming back’ and having to do chemotherapy again; cancer ‘coming back’ and not having chemotherapy as an option; praying for the wrong thing; being hopeful; being negative; not being good enough; being wrong in my faith in my Higher Power; going to Hell even though I believe we create our own Hell in life; not being able to live where I want to live; living where I think I want to live and it being wrong; wherever I go, there I am; not being remembered for being good and whole and loving; not being remembered at work for being a good, solid, loving teacher; that I am the only one who is insecure and unsure; wearing the wrong outfit for the occasion; looking poor; not fitting in where I think I want to fit in; not getting closer and being connected with my Higher Power, my children and grandchildren, my friends and family, and my husband; that I forced my husband to marry me and he just did it because we thought I was dying of cancer; surviving cancer only to find I am still insecure and haven’t gotten any closer to my HP and I’m still the same ole’ reactive, immature, needy Shannon; being fit and attractive because then I get male attention, and I don’t deserve to be attractive and fit; being unattractive and flabby….

I've never done this before!

I have been writing in my journal for years now. Not daily, usually, but when thoughts seem overwhelming or quite often lately because I want to get my fears on paper and out of my head. I don’t necessarily like to take the time to put pen to paper, but I do find it to be therapeutic. Occasionally, I will share my writing with one of my grown children or a trusted friend, but mostly I just use it to help make sense of the thoughts that swirl and cycle and tangle up in my head. Since I was diagnosed with cancer in June of 2017, I have done quite a bit of writing on my fears and my belief in my Higher Power. I have discovered some really beautiful things about my Great Spirit and myself. I’ve been thinking about writing it out more formally so that I could share, but besides my family and some friends, who would I share it with? And if I did share it, would someone to take me away and lock me up? But I listen to other people, and I am not so crazy as my head would have me believe sometimes. I prayed about it, but not too much. When the recurrent/metastasized diagnosis was given in May, 2018, I didn’t want to share ANYTHING with anyone because my body seemed to be absolutely flooded with negative thoughts and fear I could not control. I felt as if the doctor had handed me a death sentence with zero hope. I was given a prognosis that paralyzed me. I was so powerless. And even more hopeless. I laid in bed that night feeling so hopeless. I prayed to the beautiful and all-powerful God of my understanding, “God, I don’t know how I am supposed to fight this without hope, and I have no hope. Please give me some hope.” I woke up the next morning and I could feel, actually FEEL a physical presence of hope within me. I know it wasn’t me conjuring up anything positive. I knew it had to be God.

I was telling a lifelong friend that I was starting a blog, and before he could say, “Oh cool. I think that is a great idea (or something to that effect),” my head was yelling, “No! Don’t tell him! He’ll know you’re an idiot! You have nothing valid to say; nothing to offer anyone.” A few years ago, I learned that I don’t control my thoughts; thoughts come into my head that I am shocked to have going through my noggin. I do not believe everything I think., difficult as that is sometimes.

I don’t think I have some wonderful gift of being a talented writer. And I write well enough that I can relay a message. I was given a second chance at life, and I would be a fool to not take advantage of this opportunity. I have hope where there was none. My prognosis is not positive, AND it is just words. No one gets to tell me how long I get to live. That is not a human decision. I want to share my wonder and crazy and faith and rebelliousness and trials and successes and and and…. I have never done this before, so please bear with me as I try something new and exciting. Oh! and really scary! What kind of crazy person puts their bleep out there online for all to see? I am going to try it!

It's all about me!

I am a woman who is married to a wonderful fellow earth traveler. I have two grown daughters, four grown step-children, and eight grandkids, with one on the way. I am a cancer survivor. I am in the midst of some life changes that can seem overwhelming, and if I am not diligent about my prayer, meditation, recovery work and exercise my ego gets greedy for my time and takes over. Even when I am diligent about all that, it’s more than I can handle sometimes. My God is very good to me and guides me, carrying me when needed. I am learning how to be more aware of my breathing. When I am stressed or anxious, I have noticed that I shallow-breathe. I am also learning to observe my thinking and feeling. More on that in another blog.

Why blog?

The purpose of my writing is multiple-fold: to write instead of just think—sorting/organizing/labeling—I need to get it out of my head am onto paper to be aware of it and make some sense of it; to share with others because I know I am not alone in my thinking, and being raw is the only way I have found that works to grow in my spirit and spirituality; and perhaps help another who has been handed life on life’s terms and wants to make some sense out of it but can’t because she/he thinks he/she is the only one who struggles because we all compare our insides to their outsides, and damn! their outsides look so good. I do my best to be authentic and real. And sometimes fear takes over and I ‘fail’ at being me because I’d rather be someone much prettier, funnier, smarter, wittier, better all-around. Welcome to the labyrinth of my mind, body, and spirit. When I write or speak of personal experience, strength and hope, I will use the pronoun I and mean I. I do not mean you. I do not mean we. I am certain that I am not alone in my process, AND I do not know how you see, think, feel. So I just talk about me and hope you can relate in some way, if it’s supposed to happen that way.