Scan Days

I found a new blog site today.  It is so heartfelt, genuine, and inspiring.  And it’s entry into my life couldn’t have come at a better time.  The blog is Miracle Survivors – Inspiration and Information for Cancer Thrivers.  The lady at its helm is Tami Boehmer.  Her approach to life and to cancer completely resonates with me.  And she has left me feeling hopeful.  She has even written a book full of survival stories – people who essentially cured themselves or lived way beyond expectations.

Hope is super important to me right now as I get ready to face the results of my first set of scans.  Today I had my mammogram and bone scan.  Tomorrow is the PET scan.  We meet with the doctor on Thursday to get the results and chat about the next step in my treatment plan.

I’m nervous.  But I’m not.  I’m worried.  But I’m not.  I know things are better than they were 5 months ago when I was first diagnosed.  Back then I was in pain.  Now my only pains seem to be from the drugs they give me.  Back then there were massive lumps in my breast.  Now, not so much.  I know overall that I am better.  I’ve lost 15 lbs…  I have much more respect for my body…  I’ve rekindled my regular exercise and meditation routine…  I am in therapy…  I am accepting more help and giving up on the need to be perfect…  Allowing myself to say no…

So many changes that I’ve been meaning to get around to doing.  But never did.  Not until I got stage 4 cancer.  Guess, the Universe’s earlier attempts at getting me to change (like my brush with melanoma in 2008) were not heard – so things got a bit extreme.  Ok – I hear you now.  I’m working on it.

As I go through this week I recognize the nervous energy inside of me.  It’s so easy to get scared.  Assume the worst.  Worry about all the things that could go wrong.  But why?  Where will that get me?  What will that accomplish?  I know things can be bad…  But why can’t I believe in good?  Assume the best?  Trust the universe?  Seek possibilities?  Even if the best possible outcome doesn’t appear, at least I’ll be in a better mood for the journey.

So thank you Tami Boehmer.  Thank you for your words.  For giving me hope.  And reminding me that we have more power in life than we think we do.

Peace.  – T

12 Responses

  1. I wish I were half as wise as you are, my darling daughter. “Even if the best possible outcome doesn’t appear, at least I’ll be in a better mood for the journey.” It certainly has worked wonders with your white cell count. Your mom would be so proud of you. i’m going to check out Tami Boehmer. Thanks for the tip.

  2. thank you for your words too Terri- “assume the best” is my new borrowed motto!!
    can’t wait to see you and give super hugs to Miss M.
    in the meantime i’ll be “assuming the best” for you on result day thursday and sending looooooooooooove!!!

    + love and more love,

  3. She is amazing!! Ordering the book for sure.
    Once again, the fates are sending you what you need; hope, strength, a much deserved road trip with two of your favorite people, and the miracle of life one day at a time.
    Love and miss you lots, Laurie

    • Hope is a fragile, fearsome thing. What if we’re wrong? It would seem hope is the most expensive, emotionally.
      I believe the fear is because we feel we’ll fall down much further if we risk hope.
      Risk it.
      Everything says there’s sound reason to risk it. So try that risk just this one time.
      See if it doesn’t make you feel much better ahead of time AND when the good news comes in.
      They–the medical people–have managed to make hope a real possibility.
      Risk it.

  4. “Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.” Andy, in a letter to Red. Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption, Stephen King

  5. Wow, I just came across your lovely blog post. This gave me a much-needed boost today. I am so glad the blog is helpful for you, and hope you enjoy the book. It certainly has helped me. Please stay in touch; I’d love to see how you’re doing.

  6. It will get easier and will become a way of life, a new normal for you. You will have a whole new appreciation for life and love. There is always hope. I am a 12 year survivor with 9 of those being metastatic (4 occurances total).

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