The Spirit Helper

Within about a week or so after my surgery, after I received the news that there were tendrils of cancer throughout the breast tissue and I was facing the possibility of chemo, radiation, etc., (and I didn't want to go that route unless I absolutely needed to), I was fairly depressed and I despaired of making a decision. That was in late November.

I went to sleep about 10pm one night, after talking to Scott. I fell right out. Then, I sensed something. I struggled to open my eyes, as they felt dried out from the contacts. When I finally could open them, there was a balding man in a robe standing to the right side of the bed. I looked at him. He looked at me with a gaze that was somber - not menacing or happy, but with a resolute look on his face. It scared the bejeezus out of me.

Then, I woke up for real. I opened my eyes and there was no one by the bed. I looked at my alarm clock - 10:40pm. I called Scott (he's a night owl) back right away as I was a bit freaked out.

His first question to me was: "Which side of the bed was he on?" I replied, the right side. Scott said, "that's good". I asked why and he said that if it had been on the left side, it would've been bad news, but the right side is good news. His interpretation was that this visitor (as I came to call him) was trying to tell me that it might be hard but that it would all work out at the end.

I'd just finished reading Bernie Segal's Love, Medicine, and Miracles", which is about a group of Exceptional Cancer Patients who, by virtue of positive thinking (and this is just a quick take on the book) and meditation and visualization, assist in their own cure from cancer.

I found it inspiring so my first thought was that this visitor was Bernie giving me a message. My mom asked if it could possibly be my paternal grandfather. Perhaps.

Then, in June, I read a book entitled "Many Lives, Many Masters" by Brian Weiss, which is about using hypnosis to learn about past-lives in order to cure people from fears, phobias, disease, etc. Individuals that called themselves "Masters" would occasionally talk to Brian through his patient and teach him things. One point he makes is that we are here on earth to learn certain lessons and I began thinking about what some of my own lessons might be. They included things like rewriting this idea in my head that I don't belong, learning to let go of anger, frustration, and resentment over other people's actions, learning not to try to control or manipulate other people, etc. I mentioned this to my acupuncturist on a Friday and then to Scott, who performed reiki on me on the next day, that my intention was to learn these lessons and let go of certain things. My acupuncturist treated me with the intention of balancing some of these ancestral issues.

And, because of those treatments, I think I have changed. Those issues were toxic to my relationship with Scott. He commented last week that he thinks there has been a big change. I feel it, too, because there have been several times when I could've gotten really angry and then manipulative or turned around a depression, or been resentful of something, but I haven't gone there. My reactions have changed and that's a good thing.

I've since begun thinking of my visitor as one of those Masters. It has been a difficult experience, especially these past six months when I learned I had metastases. But I feel so different inside that I think the CT scan results will come back clean.

Now, I just need to get through this Bat Cave experience. I know I can do it. I've encountered many obstacles in this experience and I made it through. It's interesting phenomenon for me to say this, but, I have faith. I called on this Master or spirit helper to help heal the radiation burn. I called on him to help me with the Stray Cat Strut. I called on him last night when I woke up to start healing this cavity.

And, I woke up in a good mood, thinking, "To the Bat Cave!" Thank you to everyone who help me on this journey by praying for me, sending me blessings and good thoughts and good energy. It has really really helped.

Life on the Edge

First, let me say that I am, overall, doing well emotionally, at least in terms of the cancer stuff. But I am feeling a bit overextended at work. It's a busy month anyway - was away at Univ of Oregon last week-end, I have one large and another smallish grant proposal due in the next two weeks, I have to do some reading and writing for a committee I'm on at NSF, and I also have to make revisions to an article by June 1. Then, Jeanne will be visiting soon and the week after that, I'll be participating in another symposium at Portland State. Hadn't intended to do either of those grant proposals, but the opportunities seem too good to pass up.

Something that I've begun to realize in the past couple of weeks is just how much on the edge I am. Another way to say it is that I have a delicate balance in my life. I do fairly well, for the most part. But I just seem to be knocked on my ass - pushed over the edge - lose my balance - fairly quickly - or at least a lot easier than I used to.

Last night/yesterday was a case in point. I spent the day with a friend - we drove to McMinnville and then had lunch and then we went to a nursery - we thought we might go to the outlet mall. I figured a day hanging with a friend would be fun and give me a change of routine. But I ended up feeling nauseous most of the afternoon and into the evening. I think it was due to motion sickness - I was the passenger and we ended up on some back roads that were curvy. Usually, when I eat, it goes away. It did for a bit, but then it came back. So, I incorporated some the strategies that my acupuncturist gave me, plus things that had worked in the past. These included eating, having candy/sugar, drinking peppermint tea, and wearing some magnets on accupressure points just below my wrist. I felt better by evening, but I felt slightly nauseous again this morning, so I've been wearing the magnets all day.

I also felt nauseous last week-end, after riding a bus up into the foothills of the Coast Range to go to a winery for dinner. By the time we got to the winery, I felt sick, but after eating I felt better, and then nauseous again on the way back to the hotel.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I seem to be getting nauseous a lot easier than I used to in the past. This has got me a bit worried for plane travel because I do have a tendency to get motion sickness on the plane, so I'm beginning to worry that the nausea might deter me from traveling.

Also, being away from home for two days last week-end got me out of my routine - it wasn't the activities so much as it was eating on a regular schedule, taking the meds, etc. I'm gonna have to pay more attention to that, I guess.

But to get back to life on the edge - last night, when I felt nauseous, I started feeling really discouraged because I wondered if this was something I was going to have to deal with for the rest of my life - and probably when I travel. I like to travel, but I really really hate feeling nauseous. I hated morning sickness when I was pregnant and the nausea with chemo was absolutely the worse.

So, to make a long story even longer - feeling nauseous yesterday made me more discouraged than I thought it would. And, realizing that this is going to be something I'm going to live with probably for the rest of my life - well, that sucks. It sorta knocked me off balance - and almost put me over the edge again.

Time for an attitude adjustment, I think. I need to stay busy, but make sure I get lots of rest, and try not to overcommit. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself - need to take a lesson in doing that from Liz Kreger at www.lizkreger.com. She seems to manage to talk herself out of funks - a good model for me.

Really, I am doing much better tonight. Went with my sister, her kids, and Eddie to see Speed Racer. I like the movie - the sets and the costumes gave it a cartoon feel. Then, we went to dinner, I took the kids to the arcade, and now Eddie's cousins are staying the night with him. They're occupying each other and I get to chill out.