Milestones and a Rebranding

This week marks two years since my last radiation treatment, and most say I’ve been cancer-free. My heart always hesitates to say that, as cancer is tricky. Cancer, for me anyway, always seems to be lurking in the background. I’m thankful for the medical technology that has allowed me to have the treatments I need. I’m also grateful that I live in a country where I have the choices I do medically to decide what I need or want and the freedom I still have to choose. So with those choices, I have fulfilled my desire to help others as they navigate not just grief but losses of any kind, including loss of health.

I rebooted my brand earlier this year after training in Grief Recovery. I decided to do a new logo and take a look at what I want to accomplish on this side of loss. So I had photos done of myself, and I wanted a logo that communicated what I wanted to bring to those suffering loss. You can’t use old keys to open new doors. So I want to give people tools/keys so that they have what they need to complete their loss. Photography will still be a tool I use to express my feelings and to help others capture life. It just will play a supporting role now. I want to thank Kristen McGregor for her graphic artist skills and Lynda Kennedy Photography for her branding photography.

I want to thank my husband, who always sees the vast potential in me that I often overlook. To my son Alex who has also been a cheerleader and support on the days when I felt like I could not see the good, you are my sunshine. To all the health professionals who have cared for me during these last two years but even before that, I’m grateful for your heart and skills. To my family and friends, I’m glad to have you in my corner; although I know, sometimes it can be exhausting, thanks for standing with me. Finally, to Evan, I’m unsure if the stress of your passing had anything to do with my cancer as we are finding more research saying that our bodies keep the score when we are suffering loss/grief. Still, you are one of my best motivators to help others in their suffering. Thanks for that. We miss you every day!

More to come as I start the work on my website and continue facilitating The Grief Recovery Method in my community. I’ve added a link if you want to join in the new year. https://www.griefrecoverymethod.com/content/valley-church-1673487900

Looking in the Rearview Mirror

There has been a gloom that has settled over my soul that I can't seem to shake. As much as I try, this feeling is always just on the edge of my heart, and most days, I can keep it at bay. If you were to ask my husband or anyone close to me, they would say that it is evident in my attitude and responses. I've come to realize that this gloom is just grief. My anger, my silence, my anxious thoughts, and my discontent...is grief. So on this day, 8/30, it is officially National Grief Awareness Day. What a funny thing! Funny, not in a ha-ha kind of way but in a WTH type of way. For people who have suffered loss, grief is every day. It is a never-ending thought or feeling, and although we may not speak of it every day, it is EVER present.

Last year moving into this week, it had been a rough time, and I believe even then, although I felt anxious about the world, I thought I had lived through the worst of it and was rounding a corner. I started having some issues within my body during this time, which I attributed to the shutdown. My doctor disagreed and told me she wanted to see me. But everything took twice as much time cause of C*v#d. So after multiple appointments which spanned months apart when I got the call from my doctor on that Thursday last year that I had cancer, I went into the fight or flight and self-preservation mode. Only to get a call the following day that my mom had passed away. It put me in motion to walk through over a month of planning, talking, processing, and lastly, watching as things fell into place. It gave me great comfort from God as only He could have set the many doctors' appointments, bloodwork, scans, and other things that needed to be done before my surgery. The aggressive nature of the type of cancer I had, the surgery needed to happen sooner rather than later. So from 1st ultrasound to surgery was about six months.

As I shared in my blog last month, I'm not brave or strong; I'm just trying to survive. Literally and figurately. My grief and anxiety were multiplied by other factors as the passing of my mom brought with it loads of different unprocessed feelings. So this week brings back that unbridled mixture of emotions and anxiety from a year ago that my brain did not have a chance to process.

I recently started reading a book called Try Softer, and this book talks about the mantra of "Try Harder." For most, we've found that trying harder doesn't always bring the desired outcome we want. After trying harder, we still come up empty and anxiety-filled. So in the book, the author shares to try softer. Be gentle with yourself. Listen to your body because your body holds the pain, the anxiety, and the trauma. Talk to your body and let it help you find your way back to health and healing. I'm just beginning, but I desire to take on the banner of "Try Softer," and with that, I'm asking the Lord to help me get there.

https://www.amazon.com/Try-Softer-Approach-Mode-Connection/dp/1496439651

"You need to pull your mask up!" "Oh yeah, let's discuss your diagnosis."

Our family is just a few short weeks from the 4th anniversary of Evan's accident and many other anniversaries that seem to come each year. I've spent a good part of 2020 writing and capturing stories for my work, and with that, much of my grief journey has been done in the background. Busyness has taken the place of sharing my deepest thoughts, and so after so much silence, I thought I'd share what the last few months have looked like. Although I do not know what the future holds for me, I know the One who holds that future, and I continue to trust Him as I stand leaning against a wall for support and taking baby steps towards the next moments.

This has not been an easy season. It has held anxiety, uncertainty, loneliness, and LOVE. I've really had to learn such a hard truth about how much I'm able to carry, and I've come to understand that it's a lot. To be clearer, a lot for me. This is not about comparing as we all have our own stuff, and I've learned about grief; each personal journey is unique, and we chose how that is measured. Throw in this mix a world health crisis and other variables, and well, you get my point. What I’m about to share is polarizing. I’m unsure of any subject right now that isn’t, but most people like me aren’t really saying much. So I will say this is my personal experience.

In early spring, I had health issues that I thought were due to stress and other things. I chatted with my doctor, and she said if this continues, you really need to be seen. Well, it did continue, and if you've had any health issues during this crisis, the health crisis has taken over any thought about "other" health issues. Every appointment took 30 days to attain cause of COVID. After nearly 6 months of different appointments, it was confirmed that I have cancer. Yes, cancer, which in my opinion, is a health crisis for me. For anyone reading this who is thinking of wearing the mask for others...be about others, I'm wondering what your feeling is about people who are having true health issues that aren't COVID. I'm finding that MANY have strong opinions about masks but aren't advocating as much for those experiencing health crises that aren't COVID related. This has been especially eye-opening for me. Even my experience with a medical professional who was going to do my surgery, who was more concerned about how high up the bridge of my nose, my mask was than my diagnosis. Please spare me the essential worker lecture. I get it. They are exposed daily. Goodness knows that everyone based on ALL of the data is exposed daily. But my anxiety is not eased when you lecture me more about COVID exposure and give my diagnosis less time or understanding, along with the lack of compassion and care. In this, we have lost our way. We will suffer the consequences of this lack of compassion, trust me, and the mask will be the least of our worries as a society and a nation.

Today I am nearly one-week post-op. The first few days were hard, but I'm feeling stronger, and although I'm unsure of any of the pathology, I will continue to trust the team of doctors who have cared for me during this time and, ultimately, the Great Physician, Jesus. I want to acknowledge the care given to me at Sutter Health at Mission Bernal Ambulatory Surgery in SF, my oncologist, Dixon Family Medicine, Burlingame Women's health for your care over me. Thank you for arranging appointments, finding places for blood draws, and CT Scans. I want to thank my family and friends for being with me through this crazy time. Your texts, flowers, food, and Peet's have been such a blessing. I also want to thank my husband and son, who especially saw this challenging when they had to leave me at the surgery center's front door and not be with me during any of my appointments or my surgery. Just another aspect of COVID that is invisible to the public when other health issues arise.

Where have you been?!?!?!

It has been a while since I last blogged. I’m not sure why only that life has been a bit glum, and the words have disappeared. Perhaps the words came earlier in this journey because the desperateness I was feeling from the initial shock of Evan dying or maybe they just continued so that the Lord could guide me towards a path of healing. Perhaps I have no idea, and in my way, I want to find the answers. All I know is that my words had gone silent. 

So much can be said about this season. As a person trying to promote a business and also reaching out to those who are hurting I sometimes find myself in the unfortunate space of having envy. Now that can look like a lot of things when you break it down, but I mostly envy all that will not or all that is yet to be. Guess that’s why it’s called envy. There is no end to it and society is enslaved by it. We live in an age of being in people’s front room by merely scrolling through IG or FB and drenched in people’s opinion just by responding to a post or thread. The noise and chatter are overwhelming, and it leaves little room for pondering or true evaluation.

I think that what I need is understanding as the places that I land on and the threads I scroll through leave me empty, shattered and unloved. I want a connection with people, and I am connected, but many times it feels as though something is missing. Most of the time I feel the emptiness of Evan not being here. Not that he would be with me at every event or outing. It's just that I miss him. It probably doesn't help that my husband and son are on a backpacking adventure and are on week two of a 4-week journey.  

I sometimes think with all that is going on I've forgotten the sound of my voice. 

Recently I spent time in the mountains and found little time for reflections as the busyness kept me from thinking or pondering too deeply. It wasn't until I traveled back home and the hollow feeling of loss came over me and left me feeling overwhelmed and anxious…nauseous really. When I finally got home and uploaded the photos from my nature walk in Yosemite that I thought that somehow in the busyness the Lord brought comfort as is His way when it comes to my photography. Photography gives me space to feel the full impact of what is going on within my heart and mind for grief is a constant thing.  It doesn’t rest or take a break. Sometimes it's a quiet whisper other times a raging sea...It can go from a sweet memory to a full-on belly cry. But alas it is constant. 

Grief is hard. And as much as we try to avoid it, we can't. We are all grieving something or someone. So when I'm feeling consumed by it. Shunned by it. Avoided by it. I have to remember who I am and to whom I belong. That the Lord is near to the broken-hearted. That He holds my tears in a jar. That those that I love He sees and that He sees me. He comes close to me. He values me. He sees my worth, and my heart ache. It doesn't scare Him or frighten Him. He comes CLOSER! So much comfort.