Finding the Reason in Our Difficult Seasons

A year ago, a seat belt saved my life. But not the way you think…

Flashback to October 2017: I’d been ill for months but had been explaining away my extreme fatigue and other symptoms as typical for a mom juggling 3 kids—2 of them twin toddlers.  As I was driving, I started getting bothered by the feeling of the seat belt hitting my neck. As I slowly felt around, I noticed how swollen my neck was. “Well, I’ve been sick,” I thought. Then I felt a pea-sized mass near my collarbone that I knew should NOT be there. I swallowed hard and told myself I was overreacting. Never did I ever think it could be cancer. But it was.

Soon we learned I had Stage 3 Hodgkin Lymphoma.  I spent the end of 2017 and most of 2018 in treatment. Miraculously, I went into remission midway through treatment.

I’m continually amazed at how one small act can change the course of your life forever. Had that seat belt not made me uneasy, my outcome most definitely would have been different. Had I not listened to my gut and finally went to the doctor, I may not have made it.

By fate, providence or intuition—I’m still here. Getting diagnosed with cancer last year right before the holidays was certainly devastating, but there was still plenty of good to be found in a terrible situation. I was lucky to be diagnosed exactly when I was. It allowed me to be one of the first patients in a clinical trial for a new immunotherapy drug. I believe that treatment has improved my chances at long-term remission and a cure.

Sometimes it takes everything falling apart for things to finally come together. I do believe everything happens for a reason. But we must choose the reason.  When we enter a difficult season, we must trust that it is happening for a reason—even when we are struggling to find the light in the midst of overwhelming darkness. We must believe we can get through this. Because there are no wrong turns in life; just unexpected paths. In bad times, we must remember that even the most terrible events provide an opportunity. It’s up to us to learn from what happened and grow from it.

When Prayers are Answered

If there is anything this last year has taught me, it’s that prayers ARE answered. It’s simply a matter of time and perspective until we realize we are never alone and our cries for help—whether we utter them out loud or hold them within our hearts, never go unheard or unnoticed.

When I was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer last year, I began using this angel calendar as a way to reflect and start my day with positive intention. This Friday morning, after a long day and night at the ER with my daughter, I went to clear away the previous day’s message and was struck by the timing and synchronicity of the message.

“All my prayers are heard and answered in miraculous ways.”

It was as if heaven was reaching out to say, “We’ve heard you. It will be okay.”

After months of uncertainty, my daughter will finally be getting the treatment she needs. As difficult as it is, I've come to accept that we must learn to trust the wait. We must learn to be comfortable living with uncertainty and ambiguity. Because I have learned that while we are waiting for answers, God is working.

I’ve seen him working through the skilled hands of the surgeon that repaired my infant daughter’s tiny heart.

I’ve felt his presence guiding the team of doctors who worked to strategically block off blood flow to my husband’s brain—through a tiny artery in his leg so they could remove the malformation that was close to taking his life.

I’ve witnessed his grace and providence through the tireless efforts of my oncology team that helped me treat and overcome lymphoma last year with immunotherapy—a medical breakthrough for cancer patients around the world, many who were out of hope.

As a mother, as a significant other and as a patient myself—I’ve learned prayers are answered and miracles do happen. I’m living proof and so is my family.

It's Okay Not to Feel Okay

When you’re struggling with a severe illness, injury or loss, people will often tell you to “Stay, strong” or “Be positive.” And while strength and positivity certainly help tremendously in overcoming our struggles, it is perfectly alright to admit you are not okay.

I was reminded of this while have having lunch with my husband the other day. Over bites of our sandwiches, he lovingly looked at me and said, “You know, you don’t always have to be strong.”

Admittedly, those were words I needed to hear.

For most of my life I have been afraid of showing my emotions. For a long time, I also believed that I was incapable of controlling my emotions. I lived in fear of my “dark side” being exposed. I knew all to well the nasty road anxiety, fear, depression and guilt can lead you down.  And I was afraid that if I admitted or recognized my weaknesses they would grow to overwhelm me.

But I’ve come to learn that recognizing your feelings is how you actually learn to control them. By choosing to honor the feeling that you are experiencing—whether it is anxiety, fear, guilt or sadness—and not trying to numb or push the uncomfortable feelings away, you can ultimately learn how to calm and manage your emotions. So, in honor of Mental Health Awareness Week, I’d like to share some tips and strategies that have helped me in hopes they can help you too.

What is an emotion?

First, I feel it’s important to define what exactly an emotion is. An emotion is a vibration you feel in your body which is created by your mind. So, in other words, an emotion is a physical sensation that is caused by your mind. Or more simply: emotions are created by your thoughts.

You have control over your emotions.

Emotions are created in response to your thoughts. And you have quite a bit of control over what thoughts you think. Which means you have some degree of control over your emotions. In fact, even just being aware of your emotions on a conscious level can significantly change the way you experience an emotion. Many times, what we interpret as a physical sensation is actually an emotion. For example, you may interpret the feeling or sensation of hollowness in your stomach as being hungry, even though you’re actually feeling bored but not consciously aware of the emotion.

Resisting feeling an emotion can lead to more problems.

Resisting the emotion is a very common response. We may try to suppress the emotion or distract ourselves from feeling it. The self-help world refers to this as buffering.  Examples of buffering include shopping, drinking alcohol, gambling, eating and even working to avoid feeling the emotion. None of these behaviors are intrinsically bad, but when they are used to avoid experiencing our emotions, the end result is negative.

Consciously experiencing an emotion is something many people struggle with. But being intentionally aware of your emotions allows you to fully enjoy the positive emotions while moving through the negative emotions more quickly. Buffering or avoiding emotions, on the other hand, keeps you from processing those negative emotions (and from being fully aware of positive emotions). This doesn’t make the negative emotions go away—you’re just avoiding them.

Learn to tune into your emotions and honor how you are feeling.

Let’s face it. Emotions can be uncomfortable so learning to intentionally focus on what you are feeling takes some practice. Here are some strategies to help you get in touch with how you’re truly feeling about a situation:

• Try to name the emotion. This will help bring conscious awareness to the emotion.

• Do a thought download. Write down your stream-of-consciousness (i.e. every thought that pops into your head) for 3-5 minutes. This will help you to access the thoughts that aren’t conscious, but that are affecting the way you feel.

• Take some time out to process. Often we try to avoid thinking, because we’re trying to avoid the emotion. Writing in a journal or taking some quiet time to yourself allows you to be mentally present.

Remember, your emotions can’t hurt you.

So often, we are terrified of feeling emotions. We will usually do anything in our power to avoid feeling unpleasant— even if that discomfort will only last a short time. Which is interesting, if you think about it. If you knew you would have to feel terrified for five minutes, but nothing bad would happen to you, you could do that, right? After all, an emotion is just a vibration in your body. It can’t actually hurt you. And just because we are feeling scared or worried now, it’s important to remember this feeling is only temporary.

Through the events in our lives, both good and bad, we ultimately learn who we are and what makes us tick. Life is not about creating happily ever after—it’s about taking it one day at a time and accepting that we will all go through times when we won’t feel happy. And THAT is perfectly okay.

Sources:

Dr. Jennifer Greer

The Audacity to Choose Hope

In my posts I talk a lot about hope. It is undoubtedly my favorite four letter word after love. I believe both those four letter words hold tremendous power.  I believe all great things are possible through them.

 I’ll be the first to admit, I wasn’t always able to find hope. I’ve struggled with severe depression, anxiety—even been so hopeless I’ve wrestled with thoughts of suicide.

For years, it was like I was stuck under disabling clouds of fear. Fear of failure. Fear of the unknown. Upset with where my life was, but afraid of changing it. But then, hope stepped in.

At first it was a quiet voice in the back of my head. I could barely make out what it was saying over the noise of my worst fears.

But little by little…

As I learned to silence my fears and anxiety through meditation and mindfulness, I learned to trust the voice that said, “I’ll try again tomorrow.”

And little by little, I started to change.

Little by little…

I started to let go of the belief that I was not good enough. That I would probably fail, so it was better not to try.

Then one day I felt a shift. I could see the sky again, bright with hope and the possibility of change.

By listening to the voice of hope, I started to believe that I could be better. I started to believe that things would get better.

And you know what? They did.

I think it all comes down to faith, hope and belief. You have to have faith in something more than yourself. You have to believe that there is more to life that what you are going through. Believe that these things aren’t happening to you; rather, they are happening for you.

Those struggles. This difficult season. Perhaps this fire wasn’t sent to destroy you, it was meant to forge you into a stronger, more resilient version of yourself. But you have to be brave enough to hold on to the hope that life will be beautiful again.

Because I believe hope is faith in action. When life gives you every reason to question and doubt the reason behind your struggles and if you will be able to overcome, hope swoops in to provide possibilities—even when things seem impossible.

Hope refuses to give up—no matter the magnitude of the obstacle. Hope is stubbornly, unapologetically optimistic against all odds.

Hope is also a choice. It is reaching for the glimmer of goodness when you are drowning in a sea of awfulness.  Because I’ve learned that once you reach for hope, it starts to multiply—spreading and uplifting those around you.

Having the audacity to choose hope when most would fall into fear is incredibly powerful. Because once you choose to focus on the good that could come it instead of agonizing over the what-could-bes, you will start to change the way you think. You will start to recognize and appreciate your own strength. And once you recognize your own strength, you can use the scars from your struggles as signs of hope for others. 

“Hope is not pretending that troubles don’t exist. It is the hope that they won’t last forever. That hurts will be healed and difficulties will be overcome. That we will be led out of the darkness and into the sunshine.”

Post Treatment Update

Now that I can take a deep breath, I feel the need to fill you in on what’s been going on since I finished chemo in early August.

After you finish chemotherapy, you are given a scan to determine the effectiveness of your treatment. This scan determines whether or not further treatment is needed. Depending on the type and severity of the lymphoma some require radiation and then a stem cell transplant.

For many, this is a pivotal scan—often determining whether or not they are in remission.

Fortunately, I have responded very well to my treatment. I was able to take part in a clinical trial at Northwestern where I did 3 months of immunotherapy followed by 6 cycles (12 treatments) of AVD chemotherapy over the course of 9 months. I was nearly in remission after just 3 treatments of immunotherapy and midway through chemo, on May 1st 2018, I learned I was in remission from Stage 3 Hodgkin Lymphoma.

It was an unbelievable feeling. Literally unbelievable because part of me was still in the fight. I had over 3 months of chemo to endure before I could “ring the bell” and declare myself officially done with treatment. I still could not fully grasp that I was in remission.

My PET scan in April showed no evidence of disease, but I still had to finish treatment. Try as might to tell myself the worst was over, I knew in the back of mind I still needed a clear post-treatment scan.

I have been feeling better than I have in years. I have more energy and relatively no side effects from my treatment. But still I knew I had to hold my breath and wait.

Knowing I was already in “remission” from my mid-treatment scan, I was feeling cautiously optimistic. That optimism was soon put to the test when I learned that my post-treatment PET showed a “new” area of concern in my stomach.

“We need to do another scan to determine what this is. It’s very strange. It’s highly unlikely that it’s your lymphoma. It’s more likely that it’s a fatty deposit or inflammation, but since this is new activity we need to investigate. Let’s wait two weeks and do a CT scan of your stomach” my doctor told me.

I swallowed hard and tried to find the bright side. “Well, I’m glad I’m being monitored so closely. I still have several treatment options available if it is lymphoma” I told myself.

But TWO weeks? I may have well been told to come back in TWO years. The wait was agonizing.

“They seemed pretty confident it was nothing, right?” I asked my husband, still stunned as we walked to the waiting room. He reassured me that they thought it was probably nothing, but they had to do their job and investigate.

I did my best to stay busy. I worked as much as possible and tried to plan many activities with family and friends to keep my mind off the wait.

When my mind became cluttered with the what-ifs, I did my best to focus on the things I was grateful for to help pull me out of focusing on the agonizing what-could-be’s.

This helped me realize that these TWO weeks of uncertainty were actually a kind of blessing.

I realized that no matter what my scan said, I was in REMISSION for all I knew right NOW. While that could change in the near future, I did not know that yet, so I could still enjoy being in remission and out of treatment for the first time in months.

But still. My mind kept see-sawing between hope and dread.

It’s only natural.

Then I saw the written report of my PET scan.

“The PET demonstrates a new enlarged 1.8 cm mildly hypermetabolic lymph node in the aortacaval node station which is highly suspicious for recurrent disease. Deauville score 4/5.”

 My heart sank. This seems like my cancer could seriously be back. How could this be? My doctor seemed so confident it was nothing.

But that’s the thing when you’re dealing with cancer. It comes out of nowhere and often strikes without warning.

When you’re dealing with cancer, either your own or in someone you love, it’s like you are perpetually walking on a tightrope of emotions balancing somewhere between hope and fear. You are constantly weighing your options and rehearsing what-if scenarios. You are constantly evaluating what news to keep to yourself and what to tell those you care about. Because sometimes the reality of what you’re facing is just too plain difficult and scary to put into words. 

Because once you’re in the fight—you’re in. There’s no going back.

This is the fight of your life, and just like life—it is unrelenting. There are highs and lows, victories and defeats. But no matter what you are facing, I believe there is always hope—you just need to adjust your focus sometimes.

Yesterday, I had mentally prepared myself to hear the news my cancer was back. The radiologist’s notes gave me every indication to think I had relapsed. I started gearing up for the fight. Thankfully, I can now take a rest from this battle.

It turns out the “new” activity that the PET showed, has actually been there since my initial scan in December of 2017.  The CT showed it is actually not enlarged according to their criteria and it did not change since my prior scan.  What the PET scan was most likely picking up is called a fatty hilum around the lymph node in my stomach. The fact that this fatty deposit is present indicates this is a normal lymph node and not cancerous. It also turns out it’s so tiny that they couldn’t biopsy it if they wanted to.

A complete victory! An answered prayer.

I am thankful I will continue to be monitored closely. I will have another scan in 3 months. Thank you for all your prayers and messages of support. It means so much!

 Post-Treatment PET Results:

Left is scan from December 2017. Right is most recent PET scan.

This is a mid section view of my torso. The white part is my spinal cord. To the left of center you can see the area in yellow that is the reactive lymph node in question.

When You’re in Remission

This afternoon I received the BEST possible news. After weeks of uncertainty regarding my latest scan, I learned I am still in REMISSION!!!!

See when you have cancer, you never really stop having it. Even if your fortunate enough to reach remission, the thought of cancer is always in the back of your mind.

Every ache and pain is magnified as it’s viewed through this lens. Is the cancer back?

Every few months you’re subjected to a battery of tests to find out.  Every few months you wait for the news. You wait and you wait. And just when you think you’re done waiting, you find out you will need to wait a little more.

You find yourself praying more than you ever have in your entire life. You get good at holding your breath. You learn that life does not exist in black and white, but in varying shades of gray. You try not to read between the lines because, in many ways, hope cannot be seen.

I pray you’ll realize that while faith and hope don’t always make sense—they often are paving the way for miracles. Because while you were waiting, God was working.

So please do not lose hope. Believe there are beautiful things waiting for you on the other side of this storm. And remember, sunshine comes to all who feel the rain. 

Holding on to Hope

Today I will receive some answers and I will undoubtedly leave with more questions.

I’m bracing myself. I’m white-knuckle holding onto hope that my cancer is still gone. The realist in me is also whispering the  ‘what ifs’ but I’m doing my best not to listen.

You see, I believe hope is a choice. I believe you cannot be fearful and hopeful at the same time— so I choose hope.

I choose to focus on the glimmer of good in this sea of bad. I am choosing to be grateful because I believe you can’t be both grateful AND fearful at the same time.

So when I’m faced with a thousand reasons to cry, I’m choosing to smile. When life brings me to my knees, I will use it as an opportunity to pause and thank God that there is still breath in my lungs so I can say I love you. I am grateful I still have eyes that allows me to see the love in my husband’s eyes and the opportunity to watch my children grow. I’m thankful for this pain, because it means I am still alive to feel. I’m grateful for my body—bruised, broken and all.

I am beautiful mixture of sunshine and chaos. I’m ready for this storm. I know I’ll be shaped by its fury. I will let it tear down the pieces of my life that no longer serve me. I will be shaped by what’s next but I refuse to be reduced by it. 

The Waiting Game

When you have cancer, you do a lot of waiting. Waiting to see doctors. Waiting for test results.

The waiting. The uncertainty. It’s definitely the hardest part. Hearing you have cancer in your body—or that it is back and you are doing nothing to treat it, is excruciatingly difficult.

Once treatment begins, life assumes a more predictable pattern. You have identified the problem and you are attacking it. But before treatment and afterwards? I think that’s when the struggle is most difficult. You are wrestling with the unknown. You are facing thousands of possibilities.

That’s the thing about facing severe illness or trauma. You’ve met the boogeyman. You know nightmares can become real. “It’s happened before, what’s to stop it from happening again?”, is what I have caught myself thinking. However, I’ve come to learn that THAT thought is all wrong.

The truth is I have no control over whether or not my cancer returns. Sure, I can eat a healthy well-balanced, diet, exercise regularly and try to minimize my stress. All these things can help lower the risk of reoccurrence, but none can completely STOP or prevent it from ever returning.

I’ve come to accept that the idea of control, particularly trying to control a particular outcome is an illusion. My cancer returning is just one possibility out of several. What I can control is where I place my intention and my focus each day.

Try as I might, I can not rush the answers. Time will reveal whether or not I require more treatment.  Right now, I am focused on reveling in the endless possibilities of the unknown. I am learning to be comfortable with ambiguity.  I keep reminding myself that when nothing is certain, ANYTHING is possible. And sometimes, the unexpected things in life are merely making way for the unbelievable to occur.

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8 Lessons I've Learned from Having Cancer

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It has almost been a month since my last chemo. I finally feel like the fog of treatment is lifting, and life has begun to return to a sense of normalcy. Now that the predictable uncertainty of treatment is over, I’ve had time to reflect on these past 9 months since I learned I had cancer.

I say predictable uncertainty because treatment offered a predictable routine, however, in the back of my mind, I was always wondering if my symptoms would get progressively worse as time went on. There were days of constant nausea and vomiting. I’ve been so weak I’ve been unable to stand upright,  spending most of my day hunched over in distress due to excruciating stomach pains. There were embarrassing times, like having to puke in a Ziplock bag in an elevator full of people. (Yes, really!)  There were also amazing times like learning I was in remission halfway through treatment.  There were times when I was humbled and awestruck by the outpouring of support for my family. 

Getting diagnosed with a serious illness or experiencing a loss or trauma forever changes you. Your world gets shaken to its core. Sure, the world keeps spinning, yet life will never be quite the same. Here are eight lessons I’ve learned through my journey with Stage 3 Hodgkin Lymphoma:

1.     Our struggles can lead us to our strengths. Sometimes the worst things that happen to us put us on the path to the best things that will ever happen to us. I’ve learned that when life rips you to pieces, you get to decide how to put yourself together again. Tough moments shape our future selves. The same boiling water that softens a potato, hardens the egg. It’s not about the circumstances, it’s about discovering what you’re made of.

2.     Focus on what you can control. Let everything else go. There is great power that comes with learning to embrace uncertainty. I’ve learned we must trust the wait and learn to accept what we cannot change. Because when nothing is certain, anything becomes possible.  One way to do this is to focus do your attention on what you need to get today and do it to the best of your ability. Take things moment by moment if you have to. Remember you can only climb the part of the mountain that is underfoot.

3.     I am the hero of my story. We will all face difficult seasons that push our limits and test our faith. But the truth is, no one else can walk through the fire for you. While we cannot control what happens to us, we CAN control how we respond. You must stop waiting for someone else to save you. I’ve learned the only way out of any difficult situation is to go through it, facing my troubles head on.

4.     Choose hope over fear. One of my favorite quotes is, “Hope and fear cannot occupy the same place. Invite one to stay” by Maya Angelou. I've come to accept the fact that no amount of worry can change the future. I'm learning to let go of the what-ifs and the what-could-be’s. You have to surrender to what is and have faith in what will come. Instead of worrying about the what could go wrong, get excited about what could go right.

5.     Make peace with your broken pieces. Embrace the chaos and the glorious mess you are. Appreciate your scars because they are proof you are stronger than what hurt you. I am learning to love the person in the mirror who has been through so much but is still standing. Because the truth is we are never as broken as we think we are. Sure, we have our battle scars, but then again, all great heroes do.

6.      Showing up means more than words. I will never forget those that went out of their way to show up for me by helping support my family throughout my treatment. Never underestimate a kind gesture or the power of sharing space with another person. Your actions and presence can make all the difference in someone’s life.

7.     The time is now. Sometimes ‘later’ never comes. We need to be careful about the things we put on the back burner of life. A major illness or tragedy is an expert at reminding us of our own mortality. It calls you to put your priorities in the right order and urges you to take action while you still can. Tomorrow is never guaranteed. I will never let myself forget about the wonderful gift it is to be alive each day.

8.     This is tough. But I’m tougher. Throughout your life you will encounter may defeats, but you must not become defeated. Our tough seasons have a way of exposing our character. I've learned pressure of these times often squeezes out bits of ourselves that we didn’t know existed.

When you feel as though you can’t go on, take a moment and put your hand over your heart. As you feel your heart beating in your chest, take a deep breath and remind yourself, “I am still here. Through all the difficulties I have faced, I am still standing.” You must remember your difficulties don’t define you, rather, they strengthen your ability to overcome the next challenge you will face.

“I am still here because I refuse to let anything or anyone decide what I get to have. I am still here because I refuse to let my trauma have the last word. I am still here because I will not let a nightmare have more power than my dreams. I am still here because I didn’t allow the hard time to make me weak; I willed it to make me strong.”

— Rachel Hollis

I am thankful for all my challenges because they’ve helped to shape me into a better version of myself. By far, cancer has been one of the most difficult challenges I’ve ever faced. However, I believe that by leaning into my faith and choosing hope over fear, I have been able to weather this storm.

Faith, God and Synchronicity

I’ve almost died four times.

The first time, I was about four years old. I was with my mother and brother after eating at a restaurant. I started to run into the parking lot and was nearly struck by a car. At the last moment, my brother grabbed the back of my shirt and tackled me to safety.

More recently, I had another brush with death when I was diagnosed with cancer last year. Whether it was your own close call with death, a vivid dream of a departed loved one or witnessing the birth of a child, we’ve all had miraculous or inexplicable experiences, that left us awestruck and wondering, is there more to life than this?

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I was raised in a family with deep Catholic roots. I went to Catholic schools from kindergarten until I graduated college. Yet, even steeped in this highly religious environment, I would consider myself a conflicted Catholic. Admittedly, while I pray daily and share my faith at home with my children, we do not frequently go to church. However, while I have outwardly questioned my faith at times, I have never abandoned my belief in God.

“One night I dreamed a dream.
As I was walking along the beach with my Lord.
Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life.
For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand,
One belonging to me and one to my Lord.

After the last scene of my life flashed before me,
I looked back at the footprints in the sand.
I noticed that at many times along the path of my life,
especially at the very lowest and saddest times,
there was only one set of footprints.

This really troubled me, so I asked the Lord about it.
“Lord, you said once I decided to follow you,
You’d walk with me all the way.
But I noticed that during the saddest and most troublesome times of my life,
there was only one set of footprints.
I don’t understand why, when I needed You the most,
You would leave me.”

He whispered, “My precious child, I love you and will never leave you
Never, ever, during your trials and testings.
When you saw only one set of footprints,
It was then that I carried you.”

— Mary Stevenson

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Looking back on my life, there have been many times that my faith has been tested. However, like the poem beautifully illustrates, I feel intrinsically linked with the Lord. Sure, there were times when I questioned my faith and I lost my trust in the church. Yet, even in my lowest points, I have felt the grace of God with me.

One of the ways I am constantly reminded of this connection is through synchronicities. The term synchronicity was first coined by the Swiss psychologist Carl Jung to describe a meaningful coincidence which seems to defy probability and “normal” explanations.

We’ve all had them – those moments when something happens that makes you ponder the role of design in the universe and your own place within it. Examples of synchronicity would be a random conversation between passersby that appear to address your own inner questions; sequences of events that completely escape a daily routine and lead you to unexpected new circumstances; or a music in the radio that accompanies a unique moment you’re experiencing. Synchronicities are events that occur and coincide together, related by meaning rather than a visible cause.

For about four years now, my husband and I have been seeing repeating number sequences like 11:11, 2:22, 4:44 every day. We often see repeating numbers when checking the time, on bills, license plates‒ you name it.  We came to find that these are referred to as ‘Angel numbers’ and each number sequence carries its own meaning. It is said that angels and our spirit guides use these number sequences to guide us and let us know we are on the right spiritual path.

One of my favorite examples of embracing synchronicities occurred when we were house hunting. About 2.5 years ago, we came to  the sad realization after the birth of our twins that we were quickly outgrowing our home. We loved our neighborhood and did not want our oldest to change schools, so we focused our intentions on finding a bigger home in the same neighborhood.

One Friday evening, I checked the local listings and found what I believed to be the perfect home in our neighborhood. It was beautifully remodeled with a gourmet kitchen, finished basement and all the other amenities we were searching for. We quickly reached out to the broker and scheduled a showing.

We were able to see the house during an open house the next day. As my husband and I toured the home, we just knew in our hearts this was our new home, the only catch was we knew it was going to sell fast. As my husband and I checked out the master bedroom, we were astonished to see one of our favorite pieces of artwork, the Singing Butler by Jack Vettriano hanging by the bed.  It’s a beautiful painting depicting a man and woman dancing gracefully in the rain on a beach while their maid and butler hold umbrellas nearby.

Now, some would say that this a mere coincidence because that is a very popular painting. However, this painting holds a deeper meaning for me and my husband because he gave it to me for my birthday right after we began dating. I always felt this painting is a beautiful reminder that life is not always about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning how to dance in the rain.

As soon as we saw that painting, I told my husband to check the time. Sure enough, it was 1:11. We took this as a powerful sign that our angels were with us, helping to manifest our desires and make our move to a larger home a reality.  And it worked!  Despite having several full-price offers, some even over asking price, we got the house!

Now flash forward to November of 2017. I just received the news that my biopsy tested positive for Hodgkin lymphoma. I was speaking to the doctor who was treating me what I had suspected to be the early stages of rheumatoid arthritis. I was beyond scared and devastated by the news I had just received and was asking the doctor some follow up questions regarding my medication. The last thing he said before I hung up the phone was, “it’s going to be alright.” I hung up the phone and stared at the time. It was 4:44.

444 is a sign that your angels are with you. And boy, were they ever. As heartbroken as I was to receive the news that I had cancer, deep down I felt a sense of peace and I just knew in my heart that I would beat this.

I’ve always had a strong belief in angels and I have felt a special connection to Archangel Michael. I prayed to God and asked the intercession of Archangel Michael to help ease my fears regarding treatment. Almost immediately, I began seeing signs that Archangel Michael was indeed with me.

I saw it in the medical staff that was assigned to treat me:

• The surgeon that performed the biopsy needed to diagnose the cancer was named Michael

• The pathologist that read the biopsy and confirmed the diagnosis of classical Hodgkins was named Michelangelo

• My primary infusion nurse is named Michael

Some would write this off as mere coincidence. But with all these so-called coincidences, I can see the deeper meaning, that God and the angels are always with us. You just need to open your mind and heart and soon you will also start seeing the signs.

God is always speaking to us, sending us little messages, causing coincidences and serendipities, reminding us to stop, look around and to believe in something else, something more. Because just like love and the wind were not made to be seen, some things don’t need to be seen to be powerfully felt.

Click here to read Part 2.

Letter to My Children: When Mommy Is Sick

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To My Beautiful Children:

Mommy is sick.

Sometimes you can tell I’m sick. Other times, it’s harder to tell because I don’t always look sick.

What you can’t always see is the battle I am fighting every day.

I know you are probably wondering what happened to the “old mommy”? The mommy that wasn’t too tired to play or take you to the park.

I can’t promise that mommy will be back soon or even when she’ll return.

I know you have a lot of questions on your mind and I wish I could give you better answers. I know you like to think, “Mommy knows it all” but the truth is, in this case, I don’t.   

I’m sorry for all the times I couldn’t hold you or play and for all the playdates I’ve had to cancel our couldn’t arrange due to my illness. I'm sorry for the days I missed out on watching you grow because I was just too tired to get out bed. 

I’m sorry for the fear I see in your eyes, every time I leave for the doctor or when I need to go the hospital.

I may not have all the answers but I hope and pray that through my weakness, you will learn strength and through my fears that you will learn how to be brave.  In a way, I hope I have shown you how to keep pushing forward when everything in life seems to be knocking you down.

And, while I am the adult and parent, I’ve come to realize I need you at times more than you need me. You keep me strong and help me push through on the days when I seem to have nothing left. You fill my life with more love, laughter and chaos than I ever thought possible. You are the sunshine in my darkest days and my reason for being.  

Although I can’t promise when the “old mommy” will return, I can promise that THIS mommy will NEVER stop trying.

Time

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As a wife and mom of three, I can definitely say there is truth in the saying, “the days are long but the years are short.” The years seem to be flying by at an incredible speed, yet sometimes it feels like the days are crawling by at a snail’s pace. Sure, it feels like I blinked and my babies are now 4 and my oldest, now 11, is heading to middle school in the fall.

Admittedly, this is a year I hoped would fly by. Since I was diagnosed with cancer in November of 2017, I wished so bad I had that nifty remote from the movie Click with Adam Sandler where I could fast-forward through all of the pain and uncertainty of this year. 

But as much as I would have loved to run and hide from it, I knew in my heart I had to face it head-on. There was no mistaking, this was going to be incredibly difficult on all of us, but the only way to beat it was to go through it—together.

Now, instead of counting down the days until our next family trip, we’re counting down the days until my last chemotherapy treatment. Now, every other Thursday, I’m counting down the minutes as my chemotherapy slowly infuses into my veins. Instead of focusing on my summer tan, I’m trying to regrow my hair. It’s a new twist and I’m trying my best to accept my current state—bald and all.

This is our life now.

These are the days in the trenches. It’s week after week of doctor appointments, labs, tests and trips to the ER. It’s been nearly 8 months since my initial diagnosis, and I’ve come to realize chemotherapy isn’t like it’s shown on TV and the movies. It’s a slow process filled with a lot of ups and downs.

But I’ve been surprised to find that I have been feeling better during the course of my treatment. Sure, I still have good days and bad days, but there is a predictable pattern to my symptoms, and with just three treatments to go, the end is in sight and the light at the end is getting brighter by the day.

All of this had me thinking about the nature of time, and how it often feels so relative to our surroundings. For instance, we all have had those times where it seemed time seems to warp around whatever we are experiencing, both good and bad.

Like the feeling of time standing still when we are with our partner, or how hours can fly by in mere moments when you’re talking to a dear friend or someone you love. Then there are the times, when the hours seem to drag: when you’re waiting for your last class or work to end, standing or sitting anywhere and waiting for longer than 15 minutes.

But that is the paradox of time. We boldly treat it as a commodity we have plenty of. If we aren’t always mindful of how or where we spend our time; we tend to waste it.

I know I sure was guilty of it and still probably am.

Like most women, I would often tell myself, I will be happy when “X” happens. I would often tell myself I’d finally be happy and able to relax when I lost the 10 pounds, got the job or when my kids are more independent.

It wasn’t until I discovered my time was in jeopardy of running out, that I began to truly appreciate what a gift each day is. Because cancer insists on its own time.

To me, cancer is analog in a digital world. Each phase of the disease — diagnosis, surgery,  chemotherapy and other treatment — carries its own distinct sense of stepping outside traditional time, and its own sense of separation from the world around you.

However, one of the blessings of cancer, is that it cements you to the present moment. All I have is NOW. I can no longer get to hung up in future events or beat myself up over past transgressions. In many ways, the certainty in which I use to naively eye the future is gone.

When you’re diagnosed with a serious illness like cancer, it makes sense to wonder how many birthdays, holidays and events you will be able to witness.  Because when your days start to feel numbered, it’s only natural to start counting them.

But I’ve learned that when we become too preoccupied with counting our days, we forget to fill each one with things that matter. Sure, now that I’m in remission, we have new milestones and anniversaries to celebrate. I hope I am fortunate to count my remission by the number of years that have passed. But for now, I am thankful for today and I’m focused on making the most it because the way I see it:

Now is the time.

Now is the time for more hugs and fewer words left unsaid. For more belly laughs and less tears. For extra late-night cuddles and butterfly kisses. For letting the dishes and the laundry wait while we make more family memories.

I’ve come to realize and appreciate that there is a reason God numbers our days.
It’s to make them precious. NOW is the time to appreciate all we have because NOW is all we truly ever have. And the only thing more precious than our time is who we spend it on.

Letting Go: Dealing with Loss

“Grief is like the ocean; it comes in waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.”

— Vicki Harrison

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It is said that every loss is a form of death. In every instance, where there once was something; an idea, experience or person that brought your life meaning and now it no longer exists. Inevitably, coping with loss always involves the same dynamics. Whether you are dealing with the loss of a friendship, job, pet or loved one, we are forced to reconcile with the fact that we will never experience something or someone again.  But where there is a loss, I believe there is also the opportunity to rebuild and perhaps even strengthen what once was.

When you’re dealing with cancer or a significant loss in any form, I believe you lose bits and parts of yourself over and over. With cancer, there is the loss of your appearance, the physical sense of who you once were is stripped away little by little, or at times seemingly all at once.  

 It starts with the three words you have dreaded hearing your entire life, “You have cancer,” and it doesn’t stop. It’s a slow cascade of loss starting with the loss of your current plans, followed by your hair, and for many the ability to work, become a parent, sleep comfortably or move without pain.

But as bits and parts of you get stripped away, I believe there is the opportunity to rebuild what once was into something stronger; a version 2.0 of yourself. Just as scar tissue is stronger than regular tissue in a biological sense, I believe so too is the potential for your body and your psyche to transform for the better during these times.  

It starts with the realization that you are strong, and you can handle way more than you ever have imagined. Things will get better. Although, it doesn’t feel like it. It’s not easy, but it gets easier.

Still, sudden loss in any form has a way of ripping you open, making you emotionally raw. Even when you have been carrying on successfully, many years later, a thought or a memory has a way of bringing you to your knees. It’s been 17 years since I lost my loved one to suicide, yet a memory of us has the ability to still make me weep nearly two decades later.

I believe a lot of this pain stems from the realization that we will never see our loved one again in this life, no matter what we do. The word “never” itself is a difficult concept to bear. “Never” hurts because it means that it can’t be changed. While change can be scary, within it lies opportunity. We as humans at some level like the idea of change because it means it’s not permanent, there still exists a possibility. This makes us feel good deep down. However, true loss in a sense means it’s over. It’s gone. You can’t bring a dead person back to life. You can’t redo a past mistake or unsay the words that destroyed a relationship. For when it’s gone, it’s gone, and it will never be the same no matter what you do. In a psychological sense, this destroys a small piece of you. A piece that you must learn to rebuild.

When we lose a relationship, for instance, it’s meaning is stripped away from our lives. Suddenly, something that created so much meaning and purpose in our life no longer exists. As a result, we tend to feel a sense of emptiness where the meaning used to reside. We begin to question ourselves, wondering if we made the right decisions. Sometimes, our questioning turns existential. We begin to wonder if life is actually meaningful at all. This lack of meaning is commonly known as depression.  While depression and sadness typically occur together, they are not the same.

Sadness occurs when something feels bad. Depression occurs when something feels meaningless. The difference is when something feels bad, it still has meaning. When you’re depressed, everything becomes a big empty void. The deeper the depression, the deeper the pointlessness of any action becomes, to the point one starts to struggle to get out of bed, shower, eat and even speak to people.

Depression has many faces and moods. It never looks the same. It's also not always obvious. Sometimes it's very visible, and many times it goes unnoticed. It is an illness that can affect anyone, and prescriptions for antidepressants are soaring, yet depression is still badly misunderstood.

Depression does not discriminate. Men, women, rich, poor, white, black. No one is immune. It is not just an illness for people with dark, mysterious pasts or chaotic presents. It is everywhere. It’s your sister, your coworker, your brother, your, wife, your cousin, your mother and the barista at your morning coffee stop. Depression is omnipresent but is still often talked about in hushed whispers, due to the stigma that surrounds mental health.

In recent years, the tragic deaths of Robin Williams, Chris Cornell, Chester Bennington, Kate Spade and now Anthony Bourdain are helping to shine a light on the severity of depression and the reality of suicide. Many people wonder, how could this happen?

From the outside looking in, they appeared to have all the trappings for success which should bring happiness and meaning, yet they still chose to end their lives. But why? I believe the following metaphor sums this up so eloquently.

“When we look at a mountain we see one face of it, and even if we wake up and gaze at that same mountain every single morning of our lives, we do not see its wholeness. We can hike it, fly over it, traverse its circumference a thousand times and still we won’t see its entirety, every layer, every element, every atom. To know a mountain, or a person, is to see a whole being in its fullness at all times in all seasons — every mood, every moment. If there is a God, this is what God sees. But we are not gods, and so our view, no matter how vast, is always partial.”

— Sara Benincasa

We all wear masks to cover up our true selves, and we can be terrific actors when we choose to be. Anthony Bourdain left us tragically far too soon, in the same manner that Kate Spade did the same week. It’s, unfortunately, the way many artists, teachers and visionaries have left us, and it is how I’ve lost loved ones and at times even contemplated leaving myself.

Those who turn to suicide often don't get enough credit for how long and how hard they fought the hopeless thoughts that relentlessly tormented their minds. Unless you have lived it yourself, I feel no one can truly understand the psychological agony of living with an unquiet mind. You are truly stuck in an invisible war where every word and every action is scrutinized by an insatiable inner critic that seems hellbent on your destruction. You are fighting the fight of your life every day, against yourself, and against a world that still, unfortunately, doesn’t understand.

 Suicide can be an act of depression, of despair and of true belief that nothing will ever improve. It can also be an act of absolute panic. When the noise inside your head gets so loud, or the physical pain seems inescapable, or the abuse seems like it will never end, it is in those moments, suicide may appear to be the ultimate act of relief.

While suicide may appear outwardly as a choice, I tend to refute that notion. I believe the final act was the result instead of an illness that simply got the better of their mental faculties and the ability to make a rational decision at that moment. Just as we would not blame someone for dying of cancer or Alzheimer’s disease, we should not fault or judge one from dying of suicide.  

It is neither a failure of character nor an indicator of a genius mind to contemplate suicide. It is just a thing that happens, and it happens more often to some of us than to others. There is pain, and the management of it looks different to all of us, and sometimes the managing of it becomes exhausting. It’s in times like these that the allure of death becomes stronger and one might get the urge to quit fighting.

We all have our battles, our losses we must endure. It’s simply a matter of life, and unfortunately, no one is immune. I believe that you never get "over" losing a loved one, but you learn to cope and heal over time. The wound will scab, but you'll always have the scar.

Scars are a sign of experience and strength, and maybe that's what healing looks like after losing someone you love. Showing off your scars to help others know they're not alone and that they will indeed survive their pain if they ever experience something similar.

In that sense, I believe dealing with loss is as much letting go as it is about hanging on. It’s letting go of what was and hanging on to the possibility that things will get better. It just takes time. And that’s life. We are all given battles we must learn to fight and losses we must overcome. Ebbing and flowing, like the ocean. Sometimes the water is calm, other times it seems it will swallow us whole. All we can do is keep on swimming. The choice is ours.

Sources:

“When They Leave” -Medium

Peaks and Valleys

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When I was a little girl, my grandmother would always tell me when I was discouraged or facing a difficult time, “Life is just peaks and valleys, this too will pass.” The older I’ve grown, the more I’ve come to realize how wise and true that statement really is.

Life definitely has its ups and downs for all of us. We all experience the good “peaks” from time to time like new jobs, relationships, and babies. Then there are the “valleys” we must face—losing loved ones, jobs, or becoming sick or injured. We all have those times that try our patience and test our faith. Life definitely hits in waves and can knock us off our feet, but it is up to us to keep swimming and go with the flow. I firmly believe we have to learn to surrender to what is in order to achieve what could be.

 I think having this duality—this mixture of good and bad is what helps us to appreciate and give meaning to our lives. For just as without the blackness of night, we would be unable to see the beauty of stars, this dichotomy helps to shape us and mold our character. Because if life was all sunshine and rainbows all the time, what would we learn?

In other words, it’s the really the bad times we should embrace and be thankful for because they are what helps us to appreciate the good times. It’s a hard lesson to always remember when you’re in the midst of a seemingly negative event, like having cancer, but it’s so incredibly important.

Since the day I found out I had cancer right before my 32nd birthday, I made a silent promise to myself and my family that my story isn’t over yet and I would do everything in my power to have this experience make me BETTER not bitter.

I’m not one for tattoos because of my tendency to pass out with needles, but if I were to get one it would incorporate the phrase “WARR;OR.” The semicolon in replace of the “I” in the word warrior would be to pay tribute to  Project Semicolon to honor my battles with cancer and bipolar disorder.  

To me, a warrior is an individual with incredible strength who is extraordinarily brave. These individuals fight difficult battles and endure terrible pain. Even though a warrior is strong and brave, sometimes the battles and pain they endure cause them to fall, but only for a brief moment. Warriors may fall, but they always get back up and keep fighting.

 I believe we each have an insurmountable strength and exceptional bravery deep inside of us. Every time we choose to do something extremely brave or strong, we are a warrior.

This is especially true for those among us with mental illness, who fight a difficult battle every day, enduring pain of the body, mind, and spirit. We are strong and brave and yet sometimes the battles we fight and the pain we feel causes us to fall— but only for a short time. Still, because we are warriors, we get back up and keep fighting.

With mental illness, we fight every day to get out of bed, take care of our bodies and protect our minds from the torpedo of emotion brought on by disorders. We fight for control over our lives when our mental illness tries to take that control away from us.

The battle is exhausting and can leave us feeling weak and tired. Sometimes, the battle seems too grueling, too much for us to handle. It’s those times we warriors fall slightly and contemplate what it would mean to not have to fight anymore.

Many mental health warriors have lost their battle, and many of us sometimes wish we would. Sometimes, we just want to find an end to our suffering. Sometimes, we are too tired to be strong, too broken to be brave. We let our thoughts of giving up consume our strong and capable minds until those thoughts become a battle themselves. Then, we have to fight to stay alive. As we fight for our lives, we look to one little symbol, one small weapon, to give us hope and restore our strength.

The semicolon is our symbol of strength and hope. It is our small weapon against suicidal thoughts and ideation. The semicolon is used when an author chooses not to end a sentence. In our case, the sentence is our life, and we are the writers. We look to the semicolon to remind us we can’t end our sentence and to gain hope and inspiration through its meaning. The semicolon means keep going, don’t give up and don’t stop writing.

Throughout my life, I’ve experienced the polarity of emotions and my existence. I’ve personally been so depressed and hopeless, I’ve contemplated taking my life. I’ve also fought with every fiber of my being to stay on this Earth for my family. In this way, having cancer and bipolar disorder has given me a unique perspective. I know what it’s like to be in so much physical and emotional pain you just want to find peace, even if that means taking your own life. And I know what it’s like to be told in the seemingly prime of your life you might die. I’ve also lost loved ones to suicide.

But I’m here to tell you I’m so happy I kept fighting. And if you happen to be battling demons no one else seems to know about or understand, I’m here to tell you that you are enough, and if you can just hold on a little longer it WILL get better. 

 You matter. Your story matters. After all, don’t you want to see how your story COULD end? There could be some twists and turns you weren’t expecting. =)

Life surely hits in waves but with the right mentality, we can stand whatever storm comes our way. I believe the key to weathering the storm is to find meaning within the adversity we are facing. As quoted from Dr. Viktor Frankl in my previous post, “We must never forget that we may also find meaning in life even when confronted with a hopeless situation, when facing a fate that cannot be changed. For what then matters is to bear witness to the uniquely human potential at its best, which is to transform a personal tragedy into a triumph, to turn one’s predicament into a human achievement. When we are no longer able to change a situation—just think of an incurable disease such as inoperable cancer—we are challenged to change ourselves.”

For I cannot change that I was born with genes that made me susceptible to developing both cancer and bipolar disorder. It’s just the hand that I was dealt. But I can change my perspective and I can use my journey to hopefully help to ease the burdens of others. I hope my story can show that just because you've been "diagnosed" with something serious like mental illness or cancer, it's not a death sentence. It's just one chapter in your story. 

My journey is far from over but today was another “peak” along the way. I found out that my stage 3 Hodgkin Lymphoma has resolved itself after threes months of immunotherapy and two cycles of chemotherapy. I still have several months of chemotherapy left before I finish treatment but I can officially say I’m in remission!

So to all my fellow warriors, keep fighting. Don’t give up. Keep writing your story. You never know what twists, turns or surprise characters may be just around the corner.

Sources:

The Mighty

Project Semicolon

 If you need to talk to someone immediately, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline can be reached at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) and the Crisis Text Line can be reached by texting HOME to 741741.

Starting Chemotherapy

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I’ve been fighting cancer for several months, but in many ways, it feels like the battle has just begun. For the past three months, I’ve been treated with immunotherapy to help strengthen my immune system. In doing so, it has also helped my body eliminate more than 50% of the cancer in my lymphatic system before starting chemotherapy. Pretty amazing results.

Knowing that I’ve made significant progress in just three short months gives me tremendous hope that I will be in remission following these six cycles of chemotherapy. While the unknown is always scary, I am relying on my faith and my family and friends to see me through these difficult months of treatment.

In preparing for chemotherapy, I started thinking about all the miraculous things our bodies are capable of doing. From sports and dance to creating and fostering new life, our bodies are simply amazing. I also believe our bodies have an enormous potential to heal themselves, given the right conditions.

So often, we take our bodies and our health for granted. I know I did.  As I woman, I know I can be incredibly hard on myself.  Looking in the mirror these days, it would be easy to focus on the negative. These past few years of childbearing and now cancer has greatly altered my body, possibly forever. Where there once was smooth, subtle skin, there now are numerous scars, wrinkles and marks.

But I’ve come to realize we all have scars, both inside and out. We have moles and freckles from sun exposure, and we carry scars from broken bones and broken hearts. However our scars came to be, we should not feel ashamed, but empowered. As said in my previous post, “I see beauty as the grace point between what hurts and what heals, between the shadow of tragedy and the light of joy. I find beauty in my scars.”

Now, I am choosing to see beauty in my new imperfections. My scars are now permanent reminders that I was stronger than what tried to break me. Scars can also be powerful reminders of memories. For example, the incision from my emergency C-section is a precious reminder of the fragility and sanctity of life. I went from pushing out my daughter Vivian to waiting 11 nerve-wracking minutes to hear my son, Thomas, take his first breaths of life. That same scar is also a reminder of the incredible way my body was able to carry two healthy babies to term, each weighing over 5lbs. I am still in awe of what my body was able to do and heal from throughout my pregnancies.

Undoubtedly, I am going to endure more scarring throughout my treatment. I have come to accept that my body and mind will be forever changed. However, I believe I have the power to choose to see the positive in my situation, despite the uncertainty and discomfort that lies ahead. Therefore, I am focusing on becoming better, not bitter.

Just as my scars are powerful reminders, I know I can draw from those memories to strengthen my resolve.  I’m choosing to approach these next six months of treatment, similar to a pregnancy. Just like pregnancy, I know life will never be the same after my treatment. In many ways, I will leave treatment a different version of myself. Sure, activities will resume, and my hair will grow back. The scars will fade, but the memory of what we endured will remain. We will simply have to find our new way of life or “new normal,” and I’m okay with that.  

Just like a pregnancy, I’m focused on listening to my body and fueling it with the proper nutrition, exercise and rest it needs. I know my body has adapted and healed from extreme situations before.  I keep telling myself, “This is only temporary. You can do anything for 9 months.  Be patient and strong, this too will pass.”

I am trying to stay grounded in the present moment by focusing on the good. Right now, I am still able to work and spend lots of time with my children. Each day, I start my day by setting an intention rooted in gratitude. Every night, I tell myself I am healing as I reflect on the good in each day.  When things get difficult, I repeat my mantra, “I have the strength, faith, and support I need to heal from this cancer.”

When bad things happen to us, we don’t automatically feel happy and beautiful, but we also don’t need to be miserable just because life gets ugly sometimes. Joy and beauty can be found everywhere, in everything, in every one of us—no matter how we look, and no matter how we may hurt temporarily. We all may hurt, but we WILL heal. Ultimately our scars tell our unique story, showcase our strength, and can even highlight our confidence. It’s all a matter of our perspective.

The Beauty of Scars

May the fire of those that came before us
Light the way through the darkness.
May the flames of courage
Shine brighter than the clouds of despair.

For we are warriors, not worriers;
Our destiny is written in the stars,
May we find strength in our scars.    
For pain can be a powerful teacher.

If we can let go of trying to avoid pain and heartache,
We can surrender and allow our struggles to shape and transform us,
Our imperfections will inspire us, not define us,
We will become better not bitter.

For scars are powerful reminders,
We are not who we once were.
We are stronger than what tried to break us.
Like roadmaps of our lives, they tell stories of what came before.
It’s up to us to decide where that story leads.

~The Hopeful Warrior

Searching for Meaning

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Each of us has times in our lives where we wish we could rewrite the ending of the story. We lose loved ones or become separated from things we care about. Our bodies begin to age and fail as we get older. There are times we feel helpless or hurt or feel our lives slipping out of our control.   

According to Buddha, “Life is suffering because it is impermanent and ever-changing.” This suffering or “dukkha” presents an array of emotions — from happiness to despair. According to Buddhism, human beings are trapped in a cycle of existence known as samsara. In samsara, “the cycle of suffering,” is a direct result of our desire for permanence in an ever-changing world. However, as Buddha and many other spiritual masters and teachers proclaim, while no one is exempt from suffering, we can thrive and flourish despite it—and, in some cases, because of it.

So how can life remain meaningful in spite of tragedy?

As Viktor Frankl so eloquently states in his transformative book, Man’s Search for Meaning, what matters the most in life is making the most out of any given situation. A psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor, Frankl wrote extensively about this process after observing that his fellow inmates in concentration camps were more likely to survive the horrific conditions if they held on to a sense of meaning. He went on to establish a new school of existential therapy called logotherapy, based on the belief that man’s primary motivation is an innate pull to find meaning even in the most difficult circumstances. Frankl pointed to research indicating a strong relationship between “meaninglessness” and criminal behaviors, addictions and depression. Without meaning, people fill the void with hedonistic pleasures, power, materialism, hatred, boredom, or neurotic obsessions and compulsions.

According to Frankl, "we can discover meaning in life in three different ways: (1) by creating a work or doing a deed; (2) by experiencing something or encountering someone; and (3) by the attitude we take toward unavoidable suffering" and that "everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances".

To understand how this process is possible, researchers have studied a fascinating phenomenon called post-traumatic growth. First identified in the 1990’s by psychologists Richard Tedeschi and Lawrence Calhoun, post-traumatic growth is when a person experiences positive changes resulting from a major life crisis. According to the research, post-traumatic growth goes beyond resilience. By actively searching for the good in something terrible, a person can use adversity as a catalyst for advancing to a higher level of personal development and self-actualization.

According to this theory, five positive changes signal post-traumatic growth and create a framework for making the best out of the worst situations.

1)      Personal Strength: Tragedy exposes our vulnerability in an unpredictable world and therefore may cause us to feel weak or helpless. But, on the contrary, it can also boost our self-confidence and lead us to view ourselves as stronger.

2)      Relationships: Whether bonding on a deeper level with friends and family or feeling connected to strangers who have gone through similar difficulties, suffering can bring people closer together.

3)      Greater Life Appreciation: Tragedy can shift our perspective, inspire us to value good things more, and renew our intention to make the most of our lives.

4)      Changing or Reinforced Beliefs:  Tragedy can cause some people to evolve existentially to see themselves and their role in the world differently or to feel a new spiritual connection, which can influence their sense of purpose or their faith.

5)      New Possibilities: In the aftermath of trauma, people may perceive that new opportunities are available and pursue them.

By focusing on one or more of these five areas, we have an opportunity to turn suffering into personal development. In particular, several factors can help this process. One is receiving care; it is important to seek out emotional and practical support from loved ones or community members following trauma. Another is approaching rather than avoiding the task of coping by accepting the tragedy as irreversible and embracing the grief process. The final factor is recognizing that we are in charge of how we move forward and thereby take control over our recovery.

Post-traumatic growth does not imply that trauma is good or that suffering should be trivialized. Fortunately, distress and post-traumatic growth often occur simultaneously. In fact, research has shown suffering actually plays a role in our overall well-being. Trauma drives change, and that change can be positive. Post-traumatic growth points to ways in which we can use our struggles—as individuals or even a nation—as stepping stones for greater meaning and transformation.

The choice is ours.

Sources:

Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl

“How to Find Meaning in Suffering”  Scientific American

“What Is Suffering? 10 Buddhist Teachers Weigh In” Lion’s Roar  

How are you doing?

­­­­How are you doing?­­­­­

It’s a question we a­­­­­­­­­­sk others nearly every day of our life. But do we ever truly mean it?

If the person you asked suddenly started honestly telling you how they are feeling, would you stick around and listen or would you politely try to excuse yourself from the conversation?

Since I was diagnosed with cancer, this question has taken on a new meaning in my life. Now, I’m no longer afraid to admit how I really feel when someone asks. Cancer gives me the opportunity to be honest, no matter how uncomfortable the situation or the truth might be. My main focus is surviving. The rest is just minor details.

But I know not everyone has the luxury of telling those around them how they are truly feeling without fear of judgment or abandonment. You see, when someone used to ask me how I was doing, I would usually say “fine.” I’d politely ask how they were doing and then go on my way. I’d never admitted how much I was struggling. How plain exhausted I was. How lonely I was. How scared. How I had just sat in my car for 30 minutes wracked with anxiety trying to get up enough courage to walk through the door. How I had needed a pep talk from my husband that day just to get up and go to work. No. It was easier to say, “I’m fine” and continue on my way.

It was easier to not let people in too close. Since I was diagnosed bipolar at age 15, I built walls around myself. I found it was easier to isolate myself than risk embarrassing myself or my family by some of my wild or atypical outgoing behavior.

Maintaining relationships is one of the hardest parts of being bipolar. Finding people who you can trust and depend on to help you through your low points, as well as the highs, is critical to your well-being.

Recently, after we started telling friends and family about my cancer, I was struck by the outpouring of love and support for not only me but my entire family. People offered to cook meals, watch my children and take me to doctor appointments.  I’ve never felt more loved and supported in my entire life.

Then I thought about all those that have mental disorders, IBS, autism and other invisible illnesses. I thought about how so many of our friends, family members are silently suffering on the inside but may look perfectly fine on the outside. I thought about how difficult it is to open up to others when you are suffering. How difficult it is to ask for help. How difficult it is to reach out.

But, how great would it be, when you dared to open up and tell your family and friends about your disorder, if their first response was, “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. How can I help?” How great would it be if your family and friends offered to cook you meals and take care of you or your children when you were feeling tired and overwhelmed?

You too would see that you matter. That you are loved. That this will pass. You are supported and will get through this. That alone could save a life.

Too often people with mental disorders, whether it’s anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder or others, feel isolated and alone in their suffering. They feel like a burden to their friends and family who can’t seem to understand why they just can’t get over it and move on.

So if your family member or friend has depression, anxiety or another mental disorder, I encourage you to reach out and ask that person regularly, how they are doing and mean it. LISTEN. Just sit there and listen to them. Try to listen without judgment. And at times when they are feeling low, a hug means more than any words you could possibly say.  At the end of the day, we all just want to be listened to and to feel we are not alone.

You have the power to make someone’s day better just by genuinely asking how they are doing and taking the time to truly listen to what they have to say. 

Facing My Fears

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Too often, we allow fear, worry, and doubt to creep in and control our lives. We allow them to steal our joy, our sleep, and even our dreams. It is said underneath your fears lie great opportunities. As scary as having cancer is, it is giving me the opportunity to face some of my greatest fears.  

As long as I can remember, I’ve had a severe phobia of needles. Pretty much every time I get a blood draw, IV or shot I pass out. I can’t even watch injections on TV, let alone being done on someone I love. One time I even passed out and fell off the examination table after getting a shot and started convulsing. Scary stuff.

When I was younger, I dreamed of going into the medical field. I initially wanted to be a nurse but my fear of needles kept me from pursuing my dream. In college, I briefly majored in Occupational Therapy but later changed majors after my oldest daughter Ava was born. One time when I was in college, my volleyball coach had us pick out an inspirational quote that would become a mantra. I picked the following quote:

“You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”

— Eleanor Roosevelt

Later that year, I became pregnant with my daughter. I was scared beyond belief about becoming a mom at 20. But I knew what I had to do. I taped that quote on my dashboard and promised to do everything I could to honor the new life growing inside me and bring my daughter into this world healthy. In facing my fear of becoming a young single mom, I gained the best gift imaginable: my beautiful, smart and kind-hearted daughter Ava. 

Although I chose not to pursue a medical career, I feel like it keeps coming back into my life.  After my oldest daughter, Ava was born with a severe heart defect that required surgery, and my husband had his brain surgery, I again felt called to pursue a medical career. As I wrote in an earlier blog post, "Connecting the Dots", being there to support my daughter and husband through their health crises prepared me to face my own health battle. Once I’m in remission and my twins are in school full-time, my dream is to get certified in medical writing and editing. It’s part of the reason I started this blog. 

Now it seems everything in my life has come full circle. I am continually surprising myself at how much I can endure and how many fears I’ve faced in the last few months. Since my ordeal began: I’ve had surgery, an unsedated bone marrow biopsy and a port surgically inserted under light sedation in my chest for my treatment. I’ve had more IVs and shots than I could ever count.

I know I have a long road ahead but sometimes you need to pause and appreciate how far you’ve come. And I’ve come a long way. We all have fears. Being afraid of something is a natural part of life, but it's important to overcome your fears. If you let fear control your life, then you won't be living life to its fullest. By facing my fears head on, I not only am confronting what is making me so afraid, I'm also taking back control.

So what has helped me face my greatest fears?

Awareness

Before you can begin overcoming fear, you have to be aware that your fears are causing difficulty or creating chaos in your life. It’s easy to get so attached to your thoughts and feelings that you think they are all that exist, which simply is not the case. You are not your fears. You are the awareness that experiences it.

Being Vulnerable

Brene Brown, a researcher from the University of Houston Graduate School of Social Work and author of Daring Greatly, found that the belief in our own unworthiness causes us to live fear-based lives. We are afraid of letting people see who we really are and potentially exposing ourselves, so we avoid the one thing that can make us more courageous: vulnerability. Courage and vulnerability are closely aligned, says Brown, and the two qualities can greatly improve our lives. According to Brown, to conquer our fear we must “dare greatly,” or go out there and expose ourselves to failure and criticism.

Changing My Mindset

Learning to deal with fear is all about putting your negative thoughts in perspective. We tend to focus too much on the negative, so by looking at all the options, you often realize that you’re making a big deal of nothing. There are so many things that can happen that it’s impossible for you to predict. In order to help myself have a positive mindset in treating my cancer, I tell myself every day that "every discomfort I’m facing is temporary and getting me one step closer to being cancer free."

Thinking Positive

Whenever fear strikes, turn it around in your head. Instead of thinking of something bad that can happen, think of something positive. What’s a positive outcome to your fear? In my case, my fear led me to seek medical treatment and may have undoubtedly saved my life.

Gratitude

Whenever you feel fear, switch your focus to what you are grateful for instead.  While I still have a strong fear of needles, I have shifted my focus to be thankful I am able to receive treatment that can save my life. All of the injections, infusions and IVs are necessary to get me well again. I'm also thankful for the many skilled doctors, nurses and technicians that are caring for me.

Exposing Myself to My Fears

When it comes to fear, the only way out is through. One of the most effective ways to overcome fear is to repeatedly force yourself to face what you’re afraid of. Research has found that this repeated exposure lowers the psychological fear response until it is more manageable or in some cases gone altogether. In order to combat my fear of the unknown about my treatment, I was able to lessen my fear by reading articles about what to expect with my surgery and other procedures like my bone marrow biopsy. I also reached out to others that have gone through similar experiences to help get a better idea of what to expect.

Although the role of fear is to keep us safe, we do ourselves no good by living in fear. To reach our full potential and draw in greater opportunities we must eliminate fear from our lives through daily efforts that promote our strength and well-being. Your fear may never be fully extinguished, but hopefully it will hold less power over you and not prevent you from achieving important goals and enjoying your life. In the words of Mark Twain, “Courage is not the absence of fear. It is acting in spite of it.”

So what fears have been holding you back?  What’s one fear you need to face sooner rather than later? 

Leave a comment below and share your thoughts.

Sources:

Huffington Post

Wake Up Cloud

How Do I Tell My Child Difficult News?

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As parents we have the rather unfortunate task of having to break difficult news to our children. Whether it’s the death of a loved one, divorce, a move or a serious illness, you may be wondering how do I tell my child?

Right before Thanksgiving in 2017, I found myself in a troubling spot. In late October, I had found a lump on my neck. I waited several weeks thinking it may resolve itself. When it didn’t get better I knew I would need to get it checked out because it definitely looked suspicious. 

I had not been feeling well for quite some time and recently began seeing a rheumatologist because I thought I could possibly be developing early onset rheumatoid arthritis. Never in my mind, did I think that the fatigue, joint pain and skin issues I was having could be cancer. That just wasn’t in my realm of possibilities.

But soon having cancer became my reality. As difficult as this news was for me to take, I thought how and what do I tell my three children? Here are some tips that helped me break the difficult news:

Children Can Sense Changes

Children have an uncanny way of knowing when a person or situation is “off”. They can usually sense when mom or dad is stressed, and any change in their typical daily routine usually alerts them that something is up. Whether it’s your body language, or conversations they overheard, children can sense when something has changed. This is why it's important to address the situation and have a conversation with your child.  This lets them know they are an important member of the family and gives them the opportunity to express their feelings and ask questions.

Timing

Unfortunately, there is no “right time” to break the news. As much as you’d love to shelter and protect them from them situation, inevitably you will need to address it in some manner. You know your child the best so you know when the best time is to have serious discussions. It’s important to try and avoid having discussions when your child is hungry, tired, stressed or otherwise distracted or there could be interruptions. Depending on your child’s comfort level, it may even be helpful to talk when direct eye contact isn’t required (like during a car ride). Doing so, helps lessen the pressure for your child to respond immediately to the news.

Preparing Yourself

Before speaking with your child, it’s important to take a moment and prepare yourself for possible questions or feelings your child might have. It’s important to also think about the feelings that may arise for you during the conversation. While you may anticipate your child being very emotional and asking lots of questions, they may remain quiet and have very little response. Reassure them that if they have questions or want to talk more they can.

Choosing Your Words

It’s important to speak to your child in a calm voice. Use simple and clear words that simply state the facts. Use appropriate words to describe your situation so that your child will have the language they need to understand what is happening and ask questions. Children’s books on change, illness or loss can be wonderful tools to help your child cope with the news.

Staying Present

Even when communication may be difficult, parents can help create a more comforting and safe environment just by remaining close by. Whether it’s sitting and reading quietly together, or just being in the same room, your physical presence helps strengthen your bond by reassuring your child that you are there for them.

Breaking the news is one thing. But it’s your behavior afterwards that truly matters. It’s important to lead by example and demonstrate healthy coping behaviors like self-care.  Show your child that you are in control of your emotions, but that it is okay to show your feelings if you are feeling upset about the news or situation. It’s important to validate your child’s feelings, as well as your own, and let them know that is a typical reaction in response to bad news.

As parents, we want to be protectors of our children. We want to preserve life’s happy moments and have trouble seeing our children in distress or dealing with strong emotions. While we might see it as our job to avoid the topic to make the hurt go away, we can be more helpful in the long run by providing our children with emotional support and a listening ear.

Sources:

“What do I tell the kids?” Cancer Support Community

The Parenting Place