Visions With The Long Island Medium and Beyond

Me and Auntie L moments before our amazing experience with the Long Island Medium.

Me and Auntie L moments before our amazing experience with the Long Island Medium.

I really need to start blogging more often.  So much going on.  So much I want to share.  When I wait so long in between posts it takes me forever to condense my thoughts.  I think it’s time to get back to posting more frequently…  Another resolution for 2014!

Well, it seems that after months of struggling to reclaim my faith and inner warrior spirit I’m finally making some progress.  I’m feeling good.  Getting back on track.  Finding joy in life again.  I realize there’s no guarantee I’ll feel this way tomorrow, next week, or next month.  But for now I’m a lot happier than I’ve been in a while.

I’ve been taking steps to rediscover and honour my authentic self.  I realize how choices I made over the past six years didn’t leave me with much space or energy to honour my truth.  I know it’s time now.  I know honouring my truth and just being unapologetically me will help me heal.

So I’m getting back to the things that I love…  Taking ballroom dance lessons with hubby…  Exploring the idea of becoming a dance and movement therapist…  Traveling…  Seeking adventures…  Spending time in nature…   Researching volunteer opportunities…  Baking…  Enjoying good food…  Going to church every Sunday…

Plus I’m doing things that honour my truth and support my well being…  Like ditching my therapist…  Limiting my time and energy to people who are engaging and uplifting…  Cutting out the unnecessary stuff from my life…  Not getting caught up in other people’s dramas…  And asking for help.

I’ve also been receiving messages that I’m on the right track.  My tumor markers dropped.  My energy levels are good.  My pain still hasn’t returned.  The tumors in my neck have shrunk so much that when I went for a biopsy this week the doctor could no longer feel where to biopsy.  My recent vaginal ultrasound (concerns about me getting my period while in treatment) and echocardiogram (concerns about shortness of breath) both came back fine.  And I may finally be ready to get off my blood thinners.  Hallelujah!

Things were further confirmed this past weekend when I went to see the Long Island Medium (Theresa Caputo) live in Providence thanks to the amazing generosity of my Uncle who surprised me and my aunt with tickets for Christmas.  And these weren’t just any tickets…  Our seats were aisle seats mere steps from the stage.  You’re the best Uncle M!  Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

I love Theresa because she is so unapologetically herself…  Big hair…  Crazy nails…  Glittery 4 inch heels…  Wise-cracking sense of humour…  Long Island accent…   Inappropriateness.  She’s just who she is.  Period.

Of course I was praying my mom would come through – But not expecting it in a theater of 3,000 people.  So when Theresa ended up standing in front of us, passing along messages from my dead mother, I was simultaneously shell-shocked and overcome with emotion.  Naturally it was Uncle M’s ancestors that brought Theresa to us.  They were caught in the deadliest nightclub fire in US history at Cocoanut Grove in Boston.  Uncle M and the family have since set up a foundation to honour those who perished in the fire and help pediatric burn victims.  And it was a vision of this fire that sent Theresa to us.

Theresa then acknowledged my mother’s presence and first asked if I was in remission.  When I said no, and told her I was in treatment for stage 4 cancer the audience moaned and gasped.  Theresa then asked if I was doing holisitic treatment.  When I told her yes, she said I need to continue with that…  That she saw tests and numbers confirming that what I’m doing is working…   She said she saw me on the floor, at the feet of the blessed virgin Mary (which I confirmed by telling her about my recent visit to Fatima, Portugal to which the audience let out more audible gasps)…  And she told me my mom was there with me on that day…   And that my mom says it’s not my time to join her yet (which are the words I’ve told my mom since the day I was diagnosed, “Mom, I’m not ready to join you yet!)…  And she also said my mom was sending assurances that I’ll be around for years to come and be able to celebrate the major milestones in my daughter’s life…  She used the word “remission” a few times…  And before she moved on to the next person she wished me luck and gave me a big hug (I was the only person that night who got a hug!)  It was magical.  I left with a renewed sense of hope and faith.  And confirmation that my mother and the angels are truly watching over me.

I will try to carry this hope and faith with me even when the days aren’t so easy…  When my left hand is barely functioning and I can’t clip my nails, type, or fish something from my pocket…   When my skin is cracked, red, and raw from the endless tearing of my eyes and dripping of my nose that is a side effect of the treatment…  When I don’t have the energy to parent the way I want to – letting Miss M watch too much TV or giving in to her whiny demands instead of offering consistency and discipline.  I have to say that this continues to be one of the biggest struggles for me – Parenting through treatment.  Being a full-time mom is a lot of work.  A lot of energy.  I find myself feeling jealous sometimes of those who have the luxury of sleeping all day or lounging on the couch after doing chemo.  Those who don’t have to think about anyone else but themselves and getting through treatment.  But alas, I know they too, have their difficulties.  No one is immune.

That is something I continually realize as I chart my path through cancer…  We all have our battles to face.  Our demons.  Our tragedies and difficult situations to contend with.  Whether it’s cancer, homelessness, bankruptcy, divorce, unemployment, infertility…   At some point we all reach a crossroads in our life.  These challenges shake you to your core.  Humble you.  Jolt you awake.  Then we have the choice to either keep trying to return to what was or to embrace the change and redefine yourself and your reality.  Each of these moments presents us with the opportunity to make our lives even better than they were before.

Why not seek to live a better life?  What have you got to lose?

Love to all.  - T

Miss M cruising the beaches of Luquillo Puerto Rico.

Miss M cruising the beaches of Luquillo Puerto Rico.

Our local beach while in Puerto Rico

Our local beach while in Puerto Rico.

Enjoying some alone time walking through El Yunque rainforest on our last day in Puerto Rico.

Enjoying some alone time walking through El Yunque rainforest on our last day in Puerto Rico.

The view from our balcony on the 18th floor.

The view from our balcony on the 18th floor.

 

 

19 Responses

  1. Thank you for the beautiful pictures and the detailed blog entry. Reading your words this time left me in awe and wonderment — surely a good place to be left in! As to the parenting: I joke with my mother by saying that I have only happy memories of childhood, but that I must have learnt the phrase “I’ll whip the living daylights out of you” *somewhere*… not that she or my father ever did — the only times I remember being spanked are when I did something that might have injured me (running into the street) — and the fact that I remember them shows both how few such times were and how effective the lesson was. By which rambling I mean: Don’t sweat the days or occasions where you are less than the perfect parent (at least in your own estimation). Most if not all those moments fade away over the years to nothing in the gentle, ever-bleaching sunshine of your mutual love — and parents are prone (at least in my childless experience) to *wildly* over-estimating the ability of *anything* they might undertake to change/mold/develop/shape/alter the behaviour or personality or mind or even heart of their children — much love to you and Heron and Marisa always — and gratitude always, too, for your time and effort in writing these posts. — John

    • You’re so right John. Thanks for the reminder. It’s funny that you talk about threats of “whipping the living daylights” outta ya. Hubby often says we need to do more of that with Miss M. ;-). But I know in the big picture our love is what matters. And there’s a lot of that. Sending love to you on this wintery day. xoxo

  2. Deeply glad your energy’s better and the tumor markers are down. Such a battle! And to try to be a perfect mommy through your treatment is so understandable. Of course you would. Of course you *can’t* be perfect; no one is.

    I’m not trying to raise kids, thank goodness. We do have a dearly loved little cat who we found in our yard immediately after a nearly fatally car hit her. We wound up keeping her (after a month in Intensive Care). I tell you this so you will see why, even though Carenza’s a stubborn, willful, feisty little alpha runt and I’m so ill, we gladly kept her when we couldn’t find a good home. And when I’m very sick, she challenges me. I have to be the Alpha cat here ;-)! I’m guessing Miss Marisa acts out when you’re most vulnerable, too. We just keep doing the best we can.

    I don’t know how much sense this will make to you, but it’s based on my own lifelong memories of previous lives, including people here I’ve shared them with, who also remember the same things. We make contracts before we’re born. We choose our parents, siblings, and many circumstances. Marisa chose you as her mom and Heron as her dad, as you chose her. She has her own lessons to learn, and your health figures into that. I do not mean everything is “Fate,” or preordained. Simply that your daughter has her own path, and like you and your mom, you are helping her walk it. No matter how perfect you could be, she won’t live in Paradise. You can’t make everything easy for her. But it *will* all work out. I often think of this world as a spiritual boot camp ;-).

    We’d be fools to deny all the lovely moments and pleasures this world brings, and the people we love are the best part. I’m so pleased about the messages from your mom! Don’t worry about blogging more; we love to hear about how you’re doing, but you’ve got some more important stuff going on!

    • LOL! Miss M is exactly like lil Carenza… Every time I’m feeling like crap she totally acts out. It sucks! And your words about choosing our parents is something I totally agree with. My mom always thanked me for choosing her. It was something we talked about. Thanks for the reminder that my being sick is just part of the path. And you’re right, none of us will ever live in “paradise”. I just have to keep trusting the universe and have faith that it’ll all work out how it’s supposed to work out. And as for the blogging… I actually want to do it for myself as well. Writing this blog helps me so much. Helps me process what I’m going through and make sense of my thoughts and feelings. I’m just thrilled other people like reading it as well :-) Hugs to you and that little cat. xoxo

  3. I’m so glad you’re feeling better, both physically and mentally. I’d love to see the Long Island Medium! I believe in that stuff, and she seems to have a legitimate gift. I’m just curious, you always talk about having lost part of your authentic self, do you have a sense of what you’ve buried?

    • Well Dr LM… I guess it boils down to a lot of buried dreams along with a denial of my my needs and wants. I gave up my social work career and sold my soul to corporate america to support my husband while he pursued his degree, I gave up my life in NYC to move to a bunch of places I didn’t want to live in, and I lost sight of my own needs in taking care of everyone else. Mind you, I agreed to these choices. But getting breast cancer was the jolt I needed to get me back on track. I’m working on it day by day. Always a work in progress, right??

      • It’s so hard to insist that your own needs get met as a wife and a mother, isn’t it? It feels selfish somehow. I watch my husband sometimes and marvel at how entitled he feels to his hobbies and how much more important he thinks his job is than mine. And how oblivious he is about how everything in the household just runs and gets done, like magic. Just jealous, I guess:)

      • Amen! Don’t even get me started! :-) I think so many marriages are like this. I see it in my hubby too (even though he DOES help out more than most). It’s like you said, I think men have way less qualms about putting themselves first. Whereas I, as a woman, still find it to be such a struggle. How did it get this way???

  4. Thank you, thank you for sharing your ‘goosebump’ experience – I felt myself gasping along right on cue! Continue to trust your yourself to know exactly what it is you need to be doing in the moment, whether for yourself or Miss M, and remember, that can shift from moment to moment, too. Ever changing, ever transforming … ever living. xoxo

    • Hey Scarlett. I know a lot of people are skeptical. I think Theresa’s the real deal. And i do believe there are some out there with a gift and others who just pretend to have a gift. But yes, she knew about my mom. That’s how the conversation started. She said she felt a “mother” presence. And confirmed a bunch of other stuff that she had no way of knowing about that I didn’t even write in my post. Plus, the things she said to other people in the audience were bang on as well. It was pretty cool.

  5. From – Dr. James Salwitz blog post today “Mom’s, who sacrifice yourselves to keep your families moving forward. You teach us how to live. You give us courage. You light a path through physical and emotional pain. You show us the complexity, power, focus, and healing of love.”
    http://sunriserounds.com/just-patient/
    You should not feel guilty about letting your daughter watch television or feel guilty about discipline, because she is also watching you and learning a great deal about strength and courage.
    I really enjoy the blog by Dr. Salwitz who is an Oncologist and primarily blogs about his cancer patients.

    • Fascinating blog by Dr Salwitz. Thanks for the tip. I’m going to go back and read some of the older posts. And thanks for the reassurances that my little one will be OK. Most of the time I know this. But there are plenty of moments that I don’t. Cheers.

  6. You have a lot of courage and your experience was inspiring. Don’t ever fault yourself for not being able to be the mother you think you should be. You’re doing the best you can and that should fill your heart with the love you deserve.

  7. Hi, you don’t know me; I came here from your dad’s website. I only got to chat with your mom a few times. Even so, I miss her. I’m glad to know she’s still in touch (which doesn’t surprise me in the least.)

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