Believing

Angels

 

 There is a bond of compassion that goes between people when they share something that you have experienced. When you share something that has carved a path within you, there is a silent understanding of knowing that unites one to the other.

Following-light

 

Some people who write to me want to know what I did to beat the odds, how did I survive, how did I heal, what miracle was I given? I am not certain I did anything different than anyone else who has this disease.

I cried. I prayed and I wanted to live.

Whenever I am asked I recall that time of panic, of fear, of everything becoming precious and dear having cancer makes life, the small and mundane, that which we take for granted and every moment breathing, appear in technicolor. Life suddenly becomes richer when you are branded with the reality of death on your doorstep.

I remember the joy of washing dishes, the wondrous hot water, the suds looking like diamonds… I remember thinking that washing dishes was such a gift! Yes, having cancer made each step of living richer, beautiful, holy.

In retrospect, cancer made me wake up, made me "see" life.

 

 

Angels-giving

 

What did I do to survive cancer? If I had an answer I would be a very rich woman and so would many many others. I wish I had the answer so others could be healed but I don't.

What I didn't do is this: I never gave up believing that the only moment I had was the one right where I stood. I was alive and living, cancer did not rob my soul.

 

 

 

Angel-wings

 

 

I also did not say or like to hear the words Battling Cancer, or Put up a good fight… those words made me feel I was in the battle against myself. I couldn't stand that idea.

So instead I changed the vocabulary.

That is not a cure for cancer. Nor is it the only thing I did to try to heal myself. Most of all I felt I was lucky and it took years to accept that without feeling guilty.

 

 

Angel-by-my-side

 

 

The words fight and battle just did not sit well with me. I did not like the meaning of those words. It felt like I was in a war zone with myself. I knew cancer was not good, that I had to think positively but "Fight" and "Battle" I could not imagine that. Every day, whether in the shower, or right before bed, or while waiting in the grocery store line, or in a traffic jam… I would close my eyes and imagine coming face to face with the cancer cells within me. I imagine I was inside myself facing the cancer cells that had gone awry. I would see them like round dark circles I would tell them that I wanted them to be well. I needed them to be well. I would ask them (myself) what made them go awry? How did I let part of me down? Then I would say they had to come into the light and live, right, normal, healthy so that we could live.

Then I would hug them. I hugged and loved the cancer cells within me instead of "fighting the battle." I did not love cancer, but I used it as a tool for healing.

 

  Angels-together

 

Each of us knows or knew someone who had or has cancer…

If you have any stories or thoughts of encouragement to share please do.

 



Comments

53 responses to “Believing”

  1. You are beautiful to share that with us. I have always wondered what it must have been like. The story that sticks out is when Sacha was a baby and Chelsea woke you up. That really touched my heart.
    Our best friend Will around the corner from our house is healing after his throat cancer surgery. He will be starting chemo soon. I work with a woman who has survived breast cancer. I am in awe of her strength.
    I will share this post with both of them, as your words ring truth and inspiration.

  2. I don’t have stories to share, even tough my family has been touched several times with it, but i just want to send a hug to all of those out there who are in that position right now….

  3. I love your words to explain your “experience”. Interesting to read your point of view

  4. I send hugs to those of you who have this disease in your lives. We just lost a very dear friend to cancer. However short her life was, she taught all of us a lesson on how to live life.

  5. You are such a beautiful soul Corey!!! God Bless you for such beautiful words and for sharing with others. Your words will touch many. I will keep your bloggin friends in my prayers.

  6. That just filled me with calmness and happiness. I’m sure you touched many people with your lovely words of experience and joy of living. You are a beautiful person, Corey. Your blog is a joy to read.

  7. Corey, I agree whole-heartedly with your observation, “The words ‘fight’ and ‘battle’ just did not set well with me.” To me, one reason is the implication that those cancer patients who, despite the best medical treatment available, do not recover are somehow at fault themselves for not having fought or battled valiantly enough — a guilt-trip is just what a person with a life-threatening illness does NOT need at a time like this. Cancer is not a case of mind-over-matter, it’s simply biology at its cruelest.
    We learned just last week that a friend who’s my age has been undergoing treatment lately for a recurrence of a cancer that was never exactly cured, but at least had been manageable for several years; believe me, this is not due to any fault on his part, just rotten luck. Fortunately he/we live in a metropolitan region with world-class state-of-the-art medical practitioners, treatment and facilities, so at least his chances are optimized, as he’s not one to ignore doctors’ orders or take needless risks with his health. Whether or not he survives/recovers is not a matter of his moral fiber but simply good Medicine. It’s scary, and all we can do is stay in touch and continue to be good friends to him during his difficult time.

  8. you leave me speechless dear friend, your wisdom is beyond your years… as the song says “all we need is love”sometimes simply from our own dear self. love love love….

  9. Two friends of mine had cancer last year and both seem to be doing very well thankfully. Call it a fight or not it is a tough disease. Hopefully we are nearer a cure than ever before, certainly with some cancers. In the absence of a cure a combination of hope, personal faith & love must surely be the best cocktail. Best wishes & love to all those suffering today, Jx

  10. You’re such an inspiration, Corey. I may share this with my Aunt Sheila, who has been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer.

  11. Thank you, Corey. Just…thank you.

  12. Dear Corey,
    Thank you! I went through it 5 years ago. They say that after 5 years you’re cured. But it’s difficult to shake the idea that it could be around the corner again. I just came back from Lourdes. I went to thank Our Lady and her Son for taking care of me! Prayer and my children were my strength.

  13. Corey, what you said was very inspirational. I’ve lost friends and family to this illness. I hope what you wrote encourages people and gives them support in a time of great need.

  14. Such an interesting perspective…instead of fighting cancer, you chose to love it. You’re definitely onto something! Reminds me of a children’s book called ‘The Boy in the Drawer’.

  15. Thank you for expressing this so well, Corey. The “lets fight this” response of well-meaning relatives and friends to those with cancer has always intuitively felt inappropriate to me. Meeting aggression with aggression can never lead to healing. Love, faith and hope is the only way, as you so wisely demonstrate. Blessings to you and all those who’ve been affected.

  16. This is was a very interesting perspective.
    I haven’t had cancer but I’ve always been sickly and I had a kidney transplant in 1995, which means my immune system will always be weak because of my anti-rejection medication to protect the kidney from failing.
    I know what you mean by people always tell you to fight it. I never thought of it the way you’ve said it, as a fight against yourself. But I’ve always thought of all those times I got sick as something to accept and let pass, at its own pace. I can take the medicines and all that stuff they make you do to get well, but sometimes simply accepting it and being happy helps the process along. Fighting it sometimes feels more discouraging, not cause I’m fight against myself, but because sometimes those who tell you to fight expect results faster, you know? Like if you’re not getting well faster, they ask why aren’t you fighting it?? And then you get discouraged because it seems like it’s your fault you’re still sick. I never liked that feeling. So I sigh, accept I’m sick, smile, take my medicines then go to my favorite books and dvds and feel much better that way. Once I feel happy, inside, then my body starts to follow. After all, don’t they say laughter is the best medicine? 🙂
    You know what I mean?

  17. My sister is a breast cancer survivor. She pushed on and knew that there was so much life ahead of her. She now has a beautiful 9 month old grandson.

  18. Mmd. Tortoise

    Dearest Corey,
    Once again, and in a most personal way,I am reminded of the sense of community established by your beautiful blog. Tears of joy flowed as I felt your kindness in reaching out to us. Having one’s heart warmed is great medicine, and for that I thank you. My thoughts are with all those who are in need of comfort.

  19. There may be something in the idea of embracing your cancer as a part of you. I used to talk to Rafa’s tumor, and tell it that it wasn’t bad, and we didn’t hate it, but that it was making Rafa sick, and so would it please go away. And it did.
    But it did leave us a gift, like your gift of realizing the wonder of washing the dishes.
    Hugs to you.

  20. I’m so pleased to hear you survived ovarian cancer. As you no doubt know, it is one of the most deadly cancers for women because it is so hard to detect. My mother died of it 24 years ago after being diagnosed at stage III. I miss her every day. I work with an ovarian cancer research program to monitor my own health but other than that tend not to worry about it too much–as you say, you have to take each moment as it comes.

  21. Your thought of embracing the cancer with love is very special. I like thinking that way. My heart sails to those that are in the midst of cancer and I dream of healing for each one of them. No words of wisdom, but be proactive and move forward and embrace with love each moment.

  22. Thank you Corey.

  23. Hi Corey,
    You have expressed what many cannot. My father died yesterday of prostate cancer at the age of 92. Although, Sharon and I have a blog and a website, we have chosen not to mention our parents’ struggles with cancer. I’m glad that you are able to express what many of us cannot. You are a true blessing for all us that follow your blog daily.
    With gratitude,
    Rodger

  24. Thank you, Corey, for explaining that you faced cancer as you faced many other things in your life — you embraced it. What a lesson for us all!

  25. cynthia Wolff

    Oh Corey, what a beautiful,brave girl you are!! Yes, life is to be embraced and we must each and everyday live our lives and love our loves as if it were the last…your healing came when you loved yourself and accepted yourself as you are and the gratitude of the little things became so apparent…your light shines on as an inspiration to all us Corey groupies!!

  26. thankyou & thankyou.. yes I had cancer and I didn’t do exactly as you did to get well.. but I surrounded each and every cell with love. pure pink light. and I came through it.
    now I have a breast lump. is it cancer? I won’t know until the end of this week. but the fear is welling up inside like a run away train.. and my mind gallops into the future of fear and what-ifs..
    thankyou for this post. you have brought me back to the present moment.. and given me some tools to deal with this fear
    (would you mind if I copied the words out to read when the fear wells up inside?)

  27. Thank you for the beautiful story. My grandfather died of brain cancer on December 11th, only a week after diagnosis. I truly believe that he didn’t want to live or he didn’t think he would get better – so he didn’t. He was German and we were planning a trip to Germany this summer. I’m still going because I know he would want me to but it will be hard not being with him.

  28. That was beautiful. Jewels are jewels, whether in the kitchen sink or set in a band.

  29. Betty @ Country Charm

    Cancer, not a stranger to our family…my mother had six children…four of my siblings have died with cancer…the fifth is in remission. My Mother died of Kidney Cancer. One with colon cancer, one with pancreatic cancer, one with lung cancer, one with prostate cancer.
    So far I am cancer free but it is something I think about most days. However, I stay optimistic…I know God knows the number of my days and I’m in His able hands.
    Betty @ Country Charm

  30. I have no experiences or words to share..only my thoughts of love & healing to all in this situation..

  31. God Bless all of you..sending a big hug to you Corey and everyone touched by this post.
    Thank you for sharing this with us Corey. As some said on here, All we need is LOVE!

  32. Oh Corey, what a beautiful post.
    I try very hard to be a positive person everyday, but “hugging cancer cells”? Beautiful.
    Thank you!
    Tamra

  33. Rita Marie

    So much love…
    To HK who wrote that her mother died 24 years ago and she still misses her every day: Thank you for sharing that. My mother died 30 years ago, and I too miss her daily.
    Thank you for sharing your love Corey!

  34. Let us all please realize that we are not infinite. When we come to this realization, we will begin enjoying daily moments. We will give ourselves permission to use the embroidered vintage sheets (bought recently at a French brocante!)- every day! Use the good china – every day! Don’t save the silver, or the beautiful tablecloth for special ocassions – make every day a special one!
    I am very saddened when I see on Ebay unopened bottles of French perfume – sometimes several bottles, and they’re being sold by a niece who inherited the estate. How sad!
    Friends, enjoy today – every second of it!

  35. These are such lovely and sensible sentiments that I hope they help anyone who is currently working through a particular illness….healthy, happy greetings come to you all from New Zealand!!

  36. Corey, It is so beautiful and moving to hear about how you embraced what God gave you and allowed yourself to live fully. Excepting “what is” instead of fighting it is so healing. Although I have not experienced what you have I am learning that the same sentiment in other areas of my life has given me much freedom. Fighting brings a sense of suffering…. I can choose not to suffer. I am going to pass your blog and post on to my dear friend Joe who is healing from tongue cancer.

  37. COREY!!! This is extraordinary!! What an approach! My God. OF COURSE! To love, to accept, to bring into yourself and heal, bring greater balance, to it ALL through who you really are.
    I feel as though your meditation is a key to bringing greater well being to even a currently healthy body. To love so fully, to accept so completely, even that which is so utterly fearsome.
    This is true bravery to me. The courage of such total and profound love.
    I am in awe of you.

  38. Tamara Giselle

    Wow Corey! I was awakened by this post. I need to do a little thinking on this. When people ask me how I am doing I tell them “I am fighting”. My nephew, a surgeon, who just returned from Haiti says that is what the Haitians say in French or Creole when they are asked how they are doing. I guess it is natural to feel like fighting when the odds seem against you.
    I don’t have cancer, but rather an un-named disease that picks and choses where, when and how it will attack my body on any given day. I love the concept that I might love my body back into health. I would certainly be willing to give it a shot.
    You have given me some food for thought.
    Thanks again. You never cease to amaze me.
    Love always,
    Tamara Giselle

  39. Dear Corey, 18 mos ago my father passed away from lung cancer. I remember the day of his last treatment when he came out of the treatment room with a huge smile on his face. The nurses all gathered and rang bells, scattered bubbles in the air and everyone applauded. That scene is forever etched in my brain because it was beautiful and holy. So many emotions makes me cry all over again. But one thing I learned is one day at a time. Today is holy and special. Thank you for reminding me to take time and smell the roses.

  40. Thank you for sharing, Corey, and may God bless and heal all of those who are dealing with this. My dad’s doctors said that his faith and positive attitude really helped his health. In fact, when he was first diagnosed…they said, “Despite your cancer and diabetes…you are a very healthy young man!” He was 55.

  41. Dinah Soar

    Corey, I too used visualization when I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1992. I’d been told cancer was ‘weak’..that it was cells that were like any other cell, but did not know to stop dividing. I had just seen the movie Beauty and the Beast and in that movie, which was animated, were some horrible looking fearsome wolves. I imagined them inside my body, running around, seeking what they could devour–and their food of choice was my cancer cells.. which I imagined to be like a white flotsam falling down gently from the sky…think manna in the wilderness that was collected each morning in the wilderness by the Hebrew children. Those wolves ran around in my body eating that flotsam. I repeated the visualization while lying on my bed, in silence. It lasted as long as the wolves could find ‘food’. One day there was none, and I stopped the visualization.
    I got the idea to do visualization after reading about a 6 year old boy who had an inoperable untreatable brain tumor. He was taught how to visualize and his tumor miraculously shrank. I thought if it worked for him it might work for me too.
    Like you I really wanted to live and the daily mundane things became things of joy. I wept sorely over all that I had complained about and promised myself that if God spared my life I would never complain again about particular chores, instead I would count it a privilege to do them. To date I have kept that promise I made, redirecting my thoughts when I feel resistance to those chores, re-framing my thinking by saying “oh goody, I get to do (fill in the blank). And that alone transports me. Each day is a gift from God.
    I claimed the O.T. verse that states “I will not die, but live and proclaim what the Lord has done”. It is He who is the Great Physician.

  42. You just don’t know where the road will lead.
    All you can do is take hold of those moments you’ve been given.

  43. Denise Solsrud

    there are many things about cancer. some really stick with me. one, i was very scared and i asked my mother if she thought i would die. you know how you go to your mother to make things better. 2nd, i chose shower time to cry. to me it felt like a good cleansing. i could cry all i wanted and that was private to me, so i let the tears flow and they were washed away and gone. it did help me. i also did only what i could each day,even if it was to feel sick, it was just for that day,tomorrow it will be something else. when i started to loose my hair, which was soon. a friend came over and cut my hair and shaved it. i saved it. a small piece for me to recall what color it truly was and i am glad i did as now it is a beautiful white and gray. my cancer was in the winter, the week after christmas.(the surgery, i mean) i saved the rest of my hair untill spring. when spring came my sister and i spread it in the tree limbs for the birds to build new nests. now, as i write this, it makes me smile and also tear up. but….i had help from my family and most of all,GOD! all of this happened in 1997 and here we are in 2010. i am so blessed! now, there are bigger things going on in my life, health wise,but……..we keep chugging along. oh, i guess i forgot to keep counting as i went along. one last thing, my “hate thing” was this, i hated when people asked often for about a year, how are you doing with the cancer. i really did not like to even talk about me. i wanted no extra attention and wanted no reminders of it. but, i am wiser and more appreciative. and that’s a good thing,right? i had no idea that i would be writing about my feelings that happened 13 yrs. ago. Bestest to all of you out there. i love my blog followings. Denise You asked corey and i told 🙂 🙂

  44. Brenda L from TN

    Dear Corey,
    Well, I didn’t embrace the cancer cells and love them; I just prayed to God that if He didn’t really need me then please let me live to see my two sons grow up and marry and make me a grandmother…and that’s just what HE did.
    I was diagnosed in 1991 with the “agressive kind” of cancer. But I was luckey. There was no lump or cyst…nothing to “feel”. I worked for a company that gave every female employee over 40 a free mammogram every year. I was 48 and had had four previous mammograms and thought I would “skip” this one but later changed my mind. And boy, am I glad I did!! By comparing my previous screenings with the new one in 1991 the doctor and radilogist saw that the cells were changing and “clustering”. My doctor called me at once at work and said “I don’t want to scare you but you need to come in right away and we need to talk about our findings”. I asked him what was going on and he told me. I went in the next day and he was just so positive about it because there were “only” cells and it was just caught so early….(although the needle biopsy nearly did me in).
    I went to a reconstructive surgeon and he agreed with my doctor, who was a surgeon as well. I had the whole right breast taken off and the second surgeon did the “tram flap” surgery on me. They removed 21 lymp nodes and I NEVER had chemo or radiation. Both surgerons said I was lucky and it was a good thing I changed my mind and went back for that Mammogram that I “almost” didn’t get. Because if I had waited until the “next year” I probably would be dead now.
    God has truly blessed me…but then I knew He would take of me. I placed myself in His hands and just concentrated on getting better. I will pray for all on your list.

  45. I have been reading your blog a long time and feel I personally know you. We have an awful lot in common. I had an antique shop in Atlanta for several years and adore anything antique..especially FRENCH! Over the years I have collected some lovely things…I adore lace (even snippets), blue grey painted furniture, anything hand painted with roses and nearly everything beautiful…glass, silver…you name it! What a shopping pair we would be!
    Today’s blog really hit home with me. I was diagnosed with advanced stage III colon cancer in 1995. At that time I had a resection, went thru the dreaded chemotherapy and prayed a lot. I embraced this demon and lived every day as if it was my last. I showed more love to others than I had ever before. I was determine to help those that were suffering the same as I was. I felt I had an opportunity…..the glass could be half full or half empty….it was entirely up to me which way I chose to look at life. I chose half FULL! I am proud to say I survived and thru my experience was able to help others live with their disease thru my work with the Cancer Society.
    In early 2008 I began feeling fatigued. I kept telling my internist and at that time was found to have heart problems…chronic atrial fibrillation. Everything that I complained about was blamed on that. Later that year I was having so much trouble that just walking thru the grocery store was an ordeal. Then one day I passed out. I knew it had to be more than my heart….some hidden demon. I checked my blood pressure and it was 70 over 38. I was scared to death! Immediately I contacted my cardiologist. During my appointment he decided to do a blood profile. His office called the next day and suggested I immediately go to the emergency room for blood transfusions. Blood transfusion? Why….what could this possibly have to do with my heart? Needless to say, in the back of my mine the truth loomed….could it possibly be cancer again?
    I went to the emergency room…was admitted and insisted they call in my gastroenterologist. My worse nightmare again was back! He found colon cancer in the tiny bit of colon left from the previous surgery. I had just had a colonoscopy less than 10 months before. Also, I was told I needed TWELVE UNITS OF BLOOD! This time he felt it could not be too advanced but brought in the best of surgeons anyway. The surgeon performed laparoscopic surgery and that night I shot up a high fever, went into shock and was rushed back to surgery …just to find I had peritonitis…….way worse than anyone could have imagined. Needless to say the next few weeks were hell. I got staff infection (MERSA) and on top of everything else my heart was giving problems so I spent a lot of time in cardiac care ICU (actually five times during my stay). This ordeal lasted from October 2008 until February 2009. I developed several bacterial infections as well as a fistula causing stool to empty into my wound. I guess that had a lot to do with the ieliostomy I had to have at the time of surgery..anything that could go wrong went wrong for me. A lot of the time I was in and out of consciousness and my prognosis to even live one day to the next was grim. I called upon my faith and as you,,, embraced this disease….that was all I felt I could do….there was no other choice. Somehow I managed to get through until February 2009. Finally I could go home. I was sent ,home on TPN, only four days later shot up a fever of 107…..SEPSIS, oh no…not that…that is a fatal disease! Not another one. Again, I was put back in the hospital and found my pic line had become infected causing the sepsis so I had to go through days of treatment for that as well as having another pic line inserted. Finally, once again I was sent home. No one could imagine how happy I was just to feel the chilling wind in my face…smell the dirt….and most of all feel and sleep in my own bed.
    On my next visit my surgeon suggested I visit an oncologist to see if I was a candidate for chemo again. This was five months after surgery and after six months they won’t even do chemo. I went through another bout with chemo….this time it was a lot more difficult and finally they ceased giving me one of the drugs due to the drastic side effects. I finished my chemo treatments the end of October 2009. During my next visit my oncologist suggested a scan to see “where we were”. Follow up was HELL on earth. He came in and asked “Becky, I have good news and bad…..which do you want first?” My most dreaded fear…how could this be? To make a long story short…..he told me the good news was the chemo was over…however the bad news was I now had stage IV (terminal) cancer….a metasis in my liver. I could not believe my ears…I insisted on a biopsy. It was done and my worse fears confirmed……colon cancer in my liver so advanced nothing could be done….no chemo…no drugs…no liver transplant…just nothing. It has been a very difficult trip but has certainly opened my eyes. I see everything differently. As you, just washing dishes was wonderful. Making cookies…cooking pasta….everything that had been mundane was GLORIOUS! I am still hanging in there…..every day is precious and every relationship is appreciated. I love life….I am much more spiritual than ever before…guess that helps me deal with my mortality.
    Every day I look forward to reading your blog. I cannot begin to tell you just how much I enjoy it…I feel I live out my dreams and fantasies thru your blog! Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity. I remember shedding tears for you when you were going through your father’s ordeal and death. I feel you are such an inspiration to others. God bless you.
    I have laughed…especially about your experience at the nude beach…..I cried when you lost your father and have felt empathy for others..especially your helpless precious friend. You can always find somebody that is less fortunate than you. After reading about her I was ashamed of my little “pity parties”. She is also very inspirational….and lucky to have such a dear friend as you.
    I, like you, never have desired sympathy from others. It is funny…losing my hair has been one of the most difficult parts of this. Such vanity…isn’t that terrible? Before, I only lost some hair..this time it was awful…hands full fell out. I am just now getting little bits of “cotton” back. My hair was like yours so I am having a little trouble adjusting to these little tufts…hopefully when it comes back totally it won’t look so terrible!
    Thank you for listening to my ordeal. I would suggest to your other readers that are going thru this ordeal that they consider the glass half full and take one day at a time….embrace this demon and enjoy the time we have and appreciate our loved ones as well as everything we are blessed with! Stop and smell the flowers!
    Hope you have a lovely day. Keep up the blog! They keep me going!
    Hugs
    Becky McGee

  46. monicawatercolors

    Oh Corey the power of prayer!

  47. Massilianana

    Dear Corey,
    Taking a moment off from work and dreary paper work…Your post today is so inspiring . I do not have cancer, but I do hate doing the dishes and after reading you , I think I’ll change my point of view concerning this chore. You are so right . Life is so precious,even the most insignificant moments of it, we only have one life and I wrote this motto on a tiny ardoise (my english fails me here). I have to work on the believing part , though. Thanks for pointing this today.
    Sending healing thoughts to all your readers who have health issues for them or their families.
    Take care !

  48. Corey I can’t stop reading your post.
    Such a beautiful powerful journey of healing, of body, and spirit.
    I can turn and appreciate life more just having read it.
    You’re an amazing soul. Thank you for sharing these insights. I guarantee you * you have touched and perhaps saved many lives, someone out there is changing his or her vocabulary and changing their prognosis from hopeless to hopefilled.

  49. Thank you so much for sharing this. I also hate the battle/fight imagery. I love what you did. I believe that we need so much more love than we get-It has to permeate every cell!
    Sherry

  50. What a lovely reminder, It has been 10 years I need to remember to cherish life once again. My advice for those whose loved are diagnosed with Cancer….
    1. Refrain from sharing your most shocking cancer story with them, even if the story seems to have a message of extreme hope. I remember looking in the eyes of my husband for comfort as yet another “friend” shared their most horrible cancer story.
    2. Send lots of cards and letters. They don’t interrupt much needed sleep and they can be read over and over!

  51. Hi Corey – One of my readers sent me to you this morning. I was diagnosed with breast cancer a month ago today. Underwent a bilateral mastectomy and am waiting to begin chemo. I’m looking forward to the days when my blog is about “looking back at when I went through cancer.”
    I’m a less gentle soul than you are. I’m kicking the shit out of cancer. Well, I’m fighting the fight to let it take me down into a hole. I appreciate your style and maybe one day, you and I will take our cancer stories on the road. You can be the good cop and I’ll be the bad cop!

  52. I had a mastectomy, 20 years ago at the age of 38. At the time I had a five year old daughter. All I could think about was wanting to see her grow up. I looked at the whole situation as her first major life experience and felt like it was an opportunity for me to teach her that we can positively deal with what happens to us in life. How we choose to react to events is really the only control we have.
    I had a dear friend who recorded a tape for me of positive prayers and affirmations. I, also, listened to meditation tapes by Bernie Siegel (Love, Medicine, and Miracles) and never had a sleepless night. I always say, I slept with Bernie for a year. I sailed through chemo with very few side effects, except that I lost most of my hair. I,also, had a church praying positive prayers for me.
    I do believe in the power of positive thinking. I have to say that having breast cancer WAS NOT one of the worst experiences of my life. During the whole experience I felt like I was lifted on a cloud. I was a preschool special education teacher and continued to work full days, until the last two chemo treatments. I dropped to half day for the week of my chemo, because the nausea medication made me sleepy.
    All in all, I discovered an inner strength I didn’t know I was capable of and learned to love and appreciate myself.
    ~elaine~

  53. Was Mr. Espresso Martin? Va and I(Marie) want to know.

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