Oct. 21 - Give Me Some of That Old Time Religious Music -

During my chemo treatments my good friend, Russ Kendall, producer of the show, "The Song That Changed My Life" for BYUTV (If you have a Roku box, you can watch this series without having cable/dish, etc.) would send me a message any time a new show was being released. On Sundays I would lay on the couch, bundled in a hoodie and blanket, with the space heater running, and watch and soak in the beauty of the stories and music. I would fall asleep to this music, wake, rewind, listen again and again.

I've been battling a head cold, allergies, this week, so I was home in my robe with oils and heat trying to get better. Uber-protective Scott has been home with me. We just learned  Kaleidescope Picture's show on Howard Jones, won a regional Emmy - whoot (you can watch it on Vimeo here)! Scott and I watched 3 of these shows again, and I'm touched, almost to tears, with the message and the music. I can't think of any better way to touch my heart than with stories and music. Russ' and crew's assembling of these genres is amazingly beautiful.

When I couldn't read, watch a movie, or visit, I turned on music. Music soothed my soul, still does. So I've been thinking about religious music that has affected me -

Hymns: Particularly - Be Still My Soul; Lord, I Would Follow Thee.

Instrumentals: I love Mark Geslison's acoustic arrangements of spiritual tunes. Mark is an amazing musician and teacher, having perpetuated the love for the simple tunes and stellar playing in hundreds of youth, including my Tyler and Jenna, who performed for years with two other musicians, Russell and MaKenzie, as Blue Roots, for several years.

My all time favorite "hymn" is Bill Staines', "All God's Creatures Got a Place in the Choir." 

And I am definitely a fan of old-time gospel music. Tunes from the Louvin Brothers, the Cash Family, cowboy gospel songs, and southern gospel music touch my soul. The recent revival of this music in Utah, with the help of The Lower Lights, has been refreshing.

I feel my Father's love speak to me through these tunes -

Oct. 18 - Cannot -

I found this message a year ago, shortly after beginning chemotherapy. It has served as a motivator and a reminder:

True - so very true. 

Oct. 17 - This -

 

Published on Oct 13, 2013

 

Pink is everywhere in today's world. But there is more to cancer awareness than just a pretty colored ribbon. We are more than the products being pushed for 'the cure.' We are more than the sexualization of a disease that takes so many lives. We are more than silly FB status updates showing "support". We are more than just one month. We are more than just one color. It's time to push pass one cancer having the loudest voice. It's time ALL cancers be acknowledged equally. 

 

https://www.facebook.com/realcancerawareness/info 

Oct. 16 Things People Say -

Seems like everyone has an opinion in regards to my cancer, treatments, and recovery. And, since this has been a public year, I thought I'd share some of what I've heard. Most good, some necessary, some just odd -

"Holy cow, Ronda. You look fantastic."
"You haven't changed a bit."
"You have really changed." 
"When are you having reconstructive surgery?"
"Can I see your scar?"
"Can I touch it?"
"Do you still have your nipples?"
"Do you have feeling?"
"Are you sure you had cancer?"
"Has it spread?"
"Looks like your treatments didn't hurt you at all."
"Recovery sure was slick for you."
"Your cancer must not have been too bad."
"Goodness, I could've never gone through what you went through."
"You are so brave."
"You are my hero."
"You've sure had a good attitude about this."
"You haven't lost your sense of humor!"
"What happened to your sense of humor?"
"Is that your hair?"
"You still seem a little slow."
"How long does it take to recover?"
"Is it going to come back?"
"When do you finish treatments?"
"When will you be back to normal?"
"My best-friend's mother's came back 5 years later, and by then it was too late."
"How long before you know if you're cured?"
"Gosh, you look like you have been in a war."
"Are you sure you can handle this?"
"I love you." 
"This isn't about you."
"Have you learned your lesson?"

 
And this video (I can't imbed it): 
http://supportthefightagainstbreastcancer.com/sht-girls-say-to-girls-with-breast-cancer/?utm_source=social&utm_medium=bcsfan&utm_campaign=sht-girls-say-to-girls-with-breast-cancer&utm_term=20131012

Oct. 15 - Not-to-do List

A Not-to-do List for the Chronically Ill 

(or those recovering from long-term illnesses/treatments)

Today’s post comes from Toni Bernhard, a former law professor who went to Paris for a holiday with her husband, got sick, and didn’t get better. Toni’s had to learn a lot about being a patient, she describes this in her book, How to Be Sick: A Buddhist-Inspired Guide for the Chronically Ill and their Caregivers.  

I love To-Do lists. I depended on them when I was working outside the home. I’ve depended on them since my bed became my office. The one difference is that, pre-illness, I had fancy notepads and appointment books in which to keep my lists. Now I scribble them on any random piece of paper I can find.

A few weeks ago, I realized I could benefit from a NOT-To-Do list that would remind me of my limitations – limitations I often ignore either because I’m in denial or because I want to please others. 

Unfortunately, I always pay the price physically, and that’s not good for me mentally either.
So here’s a NOT-To-Do list for those who live day-to-day with chronic pain or illness (or, as is often the case, both).

1. DO NOT say “YES” to an activity if your body is saying “NO.”

I’ve ignored this NOT-To-Do so many times that I’ve lost count. It can be so hard to turn down an activity that makes me feel more like a healthy person. When I break this rule, it’s as if I’m a child again, shouting at my parents: “Look at me! I can ride a bike with one hand!”
My most recent bout with ignoring my body began innocently enough about a year ago. Two friends were kind enough to coach me in learning Qigong. I learned movements with wonderful names, such as “Against River Push Boat” and “Huge Dragon Enters Sea.” Then came “Ancient Tree Coils Root.” You imagine that you’re a strong tree, sending roots down into the ground. Unfortunately (for me), you execute this by pointing the tips of your fingers toward the ground, putting your weight all on one leg, and then squatting down on the knee of that leg.
For the first few months, I ignored the “one leg” instruction. I stood on two legs and only squatted down partway. I was listening to my body. But one day, I decided I wasn’t progressing fast enough, so I picked up one leg and went all the way down on the other. My knee went “crunch” and, for several months afterwards, I was limping and had knee pain to add to my daily symptoms. Why did I ignore my body? I was frustrated by my limitations and so I rebelled. Lesson learned though: DO NOT say “yes” to an activity if your body is saying “no.”

2. DO NOT call yourself names or otherwise speak unkindly to yourself.
Here’s an anecdote from my book How to Be Sick:

At a retreat in the 1990s, teacher Mary Orr told this story:
She was in the middle of a harried day in which she had too much to do and too little time in which to do it. At one point, while in her car, she realized she was talking to herself in a way she would never talk to others. I don’t remember her exact words, but I remember their impact. They resonated with me because of their similarity to the way I often talked to myself:
“How stupid of me to take this route; it’s always full of traffic.”
“I’m so dumb, I forgot to bring my notebook.”
“You clumsy idiot—you dropped your drink again.”

Mary’s story was a wake-up call for me. I’d never call a friend “dumb” or “stupid” or an “idiot.” But I’d called myself those names. The Buddha said: “If you search the whole world over, you will find no one dearer than yourself.” I decided to take his words to heart and so I began to treat myself as if I were a dear friend. The result? I felt so much better, as if I’d shed a tremendous burden—the burden of self-judgment.
A good test for whether you’re treating yourself kindly is to ask if you would speak or act that way toward a loved one in need. If not, don’t speak or act that way toward yourself. It’s hard enough being sick and in pain. There’s never a good reason to add negative self-talk into the mix.

3. DO NOT try a treatment just because someone said it cured him or her.
I have a theory about many unconventional treatments. Depending on a person’s condition, it’s possible to spontaneously recover from an ongoing illness. Some people do. When that happens, they attribute their recovery to whatever treatment they happened to be undergoing at the time, no matter how unconventional it was. The reason I think my theory is credible is that I suspect I’d do the same thing were I to wake up not sick tomorrow morning.
So don’t assume that any seemingly magic cure is for you. Do your research, consult with those whom you trust, consider your pocketbook. I like to check my tendency to jump at treatments (I get emails almost every day telling me to try this or try that), by reflecting on how, if this really were a cure for my dysfunctional immune system, it’s highly likely it would be all over the internet on sites I’ve come to trust.

4. DO NOT wait until the last minute to get ready for something.
Waiting too long is an invitation for a surge in adrenaline to get you through. If you’re like me, that draining sensation of “coming down” off adrenaline is the first sign of a crash. When getting ready (showering and dressing for an appointment, picking up the house for visitors) try doubling the amount of time you think it will take.

5. DO NOT strive for a spotless living environment.
Corollary: DO NOT feel bad or criticize yourself for not striving for spotlessness. That would be engaging in unkind self-talk and it’s already on your Not-To-Do list.

6. DO NOT “shop ‘til you drop.”
That’s for healthy people.

7. DO NOT wear uncomfortable clothes.
Your body is already struggling. Don’t subject it to restrictive panty hose, tight jeans, high heels (of if you’re a man, whatever the male equivalent would be). Exception: If there’s a special occasion that will give you a mental lift if you break this rule, break it. But remember your reasons for breaking it, so that you don’t slip into negative self-judgment if those too-tight clothes start to chafe or those fancy-looking shoes begin to hurt.

8. DO NOT think about pleasures from your pre-illness life, freeze them in time, and assume they’d be as much fun today.
Even if you aren’t sick or in pain, life is in constant flux. Among the healthy, relationships change, job conditions change, bodies change. I’m going to write about this soon in a piece I’ve tentatively titled, “Do You Suffer from ‘Good Old Days Syndrome’?”
What would you put on your Not-To-Do list? I’m looking for more items to put on mine, so please share your thoughts.

© 2013 Toni Bernhard www.tonibernhard.com

http://myheartsisters.org/2013/10/06/not-to-do-list/#more-20082 

Oct. 14 Before, During, After

One year in 3 pictures - 

                           Jan. 2013

  Sept. 2012                                                                                             Oct. 2013       

Oct. 11, Part 2 - Confronting with Courage

In the name of honest writing -

It has been a hell of a week. One hell of a week. I've tried so hard to be upbeat, looking back and seeing the blessings of this past year, learning from them, moving forward, but I ain't gonna lie - tough.

Today I finally broke down and sobbed, hard tears, ugly cry -

I'm sad, I'm mad, I'm mournful, I'm just lost, lost, lost in so many ways. The past 2 years have been very difficult. I've never put myself in front of any physical danger; I'm safe. I can push myself physically, but I'm not going to para-sail or even snow-board anytime soon. I am comfortable pushing myself intellectually, spiritually, emotionally - that's "safe." Until the past 2 years. And I made it through my back stuff, and I was on the road to recovery, and then cancer and this year, and with this week's anniversaries, and looking back, acknowledging them, has been hard.

I don't get it - I don't know why I have had cancer (particularly breast), and I don't know why I "chose" chemotherapy and radiation, and with that the short and long-term consequences of the treatments including osteoporosis and PTS, and TBI, but I guess I did. And being on this side of half of the "treatments" and in the receiving end of recovering and the after-affects is a lot of work. I survived those 9 months, survived, and now - with recovery - day in and day out - it's tough.

What came easy a year ago - physically, intellectually, socially - is hard now. Hard - takes energy, concentration, focus, coordination. Getting up in the morning and choosing to have a good attitude, choosing to go to the gym, choosing to work, to teach, to interact with others, to write, to love me, is tough, and it's a conscientious action every day to choose joy and hope. And there are days when I don't want to choose joy and hope, but I do, because I will not, will not, go elsewhere.

But this week, I have chosen to dip my toes (thank heavens I didn't stub my toes) into the sorrow that a year of loss and pain and anguish and sadness and horror and fear and the most unbearable unexplainable physical and mental pain I have ever experienced has brought with it. How does one deal with anniversaries of loss, of survival, of "whew"? Acknowledge and move on? Walk around and ignore? Celebrate survival?

"Self-acceptance comes from meeting life's challenges vigorously. Don't numb yourself to your trials and difficulties, nor build mental walls to exclude pain from your life. You will find peace not by trying to escape your problems, but by confronting them courageously. You will find peace not in denial, but in victory." (Swami Sivananda)

I cried to a friend as I walked in the sun this afternoon. And then I stopped by my son's home. And once we got the kids settled into a movie, I cried to Tyler and Meili. Sobbed. Poured out these same fears. Interestingly, Meili said, "Tyler hasn't known what to do for you. He's felt lost as to how to help you." I mulled that over as I walked home (who else is so blessed to have a son and his wife and their beautiful children live 2 blocks away). And the answer to Meili's pondering came - I need him now. I need them now. I need his family to help me in my recovery. In my moving forward. That's what he can do for me - help me move forward, in hope, in joy, in peace, in victory.

Happy weekend ya'll - thank you for your love these past 2 years. Thank you for your love moving forward, and I hope that I can in some way, begin the payback -