Gratitude Monday - The State of the Butt Edition

It's all good and for it I am grateful.

In specific, I had a colonoscopy last Tuesday and nothing was found that wasn't supposed to be there.

It's been four years since I was diagnosed with colon cancer. This was my second follow up scoping and am good for another five years.

I am pleased to report all is well.

You'll recall what I asked of you four years ago and I am going to ask it again, this time in celebration.
If you've a mind to and a moment to do it either pour a glass of your favourite libation and raise it or simply pump a clenched fist in the air and say, "Cancer, my ass!"

Thank you.

Gratitude Monday - Turned Me Loose Edition, A Cancer, My Ass! Post

Last Thursday I saw my cancer surgeon for the last time.
It wasn't going to be the final visit as I still have two more Carcinoembryonic Antigen (CEA) tests coming up, but he said he didn't need to see me any more.
I'm that healthy, and I am grateful.
All the tests, last year's colonsocopy, the CT scan in late August, all the CEAs done every three months, have all been good.
The CEAs are to go on for three years. I don't hit that mark until next July.
I'll still get the last two tests. It's matter of going up to the hospital and getting a bit of blood taken. The results will go to him as well as to my family doctor. He suggested I follow up with her, but admitted it wasn't really necessary.
If there are any problems his office will call me.
I do not expect to hear from him until my next colonsocopy in the summer of 2018.
Oh, and Cancer, My Ass!

Gratitude Monday - Unquestioned Good Health Edition

I had my three month check-in with my cancer surgeon recently. All is well and for that I am grateful.
Up until now I've had to see him every three months and get some bloodwork done about two weeks prior to the visit.
This time he said, "Your blood work is pristine."
Okay. I don't know quite how that can be, but I was damned if I was going to question it.
I smiled and took the win.

Meanwhile, I only have to see him every six months now, but still need to get the blood work done every three months. I am to get a CT scan in the late summer.  The next colonoscopy is the far future of 2018.
Cancer, my ass!

Gratitude Monday --The UnCancer Update Edition

According to my surgeon, my body is completely recovered from the July 2014 cancer surgery.
This is good and for it I am grateful.
The CT scan showed no cancer anywhere and the CEA (blood test) was normal.
Both are good and for both results I am grateful.
I 'll continue with the blood tests every three months for a while yet and I need another CT scan next year. That's fine with me.
Best news is I don't need another colonscopy until 2018. Gratitude doesn't even scratch the surface of how I feel about that.

As to the title of this post, well, I no longer have cancer so calling it a cancer update is a misnomer.
Medical science refuses to call me cancer free. There's a five year wait for that.
I've been uncancered.
I remain uncancered.
It's maybe not the best word for it, but it fits.
I'll use it until I come up with something better or I get to call me officially cancer free.

Say What?

These cards are for people who don't know what to say to someone with cancer. If you read the link, you'll discover they were designed by a woman whose friends dropped away because they didn't know what to say to her, or said the wrong thing.

I get that people are scared of  stuffing a foot in their mouths and chowing down. I also get that one might not have a clue what to say to a person with cancer, or any other disease or infirmity that makes regular healthy humans want to turn tail and run.

I understand. I empathize.
Now get over it.
It could be you someday. If so, then what would you like your friends and family to do?

The above is harsh, but I don't care. Here's why:
I've had conversations with people who cannot respond be it properly or at all. I saw in their eyes and body language how happy they were I'd spoken with them anyway.

Back in the late 1980s I worked at the daily newspaper in Ft. St. John in northeastern B.C. Once a month I went to the seniors' lodge to take photos of the high games scorers in foosball (or something like it) for the month.
One fellow, Lee Olson, often won. He'd had a stroke that left his left arm useless at his side, but otherwise was physically okay. But it had affected a part of his brain leaving him able to carry on all kinds of conversations, but only with swear words.
He seemed like a warm, kind, happy man. Whenever he saw me he'd have a big smile on his face. He'd always come over to say hello with a long, drawn out,  "Aaaa, shit. Jesus Christ."
His face got crinkly, his eyes shone, and he would curse and cuss and swear all in a pleasant conversational tone.
On occasion I'd sit with him a moment. I asked a few questions. I assumed he was asking me some and used logic to determine what they might be.
In their own way the conversations were enjoyable and they were a great stretch  especially as I normally despise small talk.

It was good practice for later. Several years ago here in Rocky a woman who'd been in the air force with my mother during the Second World War war had a stroke or the like and was in the hospital.
I stopped in to see her one day. She was unable to talk, but her eyes lit up when she saw me. Her head moved and her mouth opened and I believe she was trying to talk.
I reasoned out the kinds of things she might want to know and told her.
She seemed happy and engaged in the conversation, and probably grateful for the visit.

If you don't know what to say to someone put yourself in their place and give it some thought.
What did you talk about before the disease? What would you want to hear?

Here a few ideas to get you started.

Hello.
How about those playoffs/footballers/ mud wrestlers?
Did you hear what____did?
Did you catch last night's episode of ___?
Let's go for a drive/walk/sit outside.
Up for a movie?
I'll take the kids for the day.
I'm here to look after things while you nap.
Can you eat? I brought chocolate/nachos/pizza.
You want peace and quiet? I'll see to it.
Everything at the office is going to hell without you.

In short have as normal a conversation as is possible under the given circumstances.

Gratitude Monday --To Its Time

I am grateful for 2014.
It was a good year.

There was travel and camping, and picture taking  expeditions.  Yes,  this is the year I had cancer, but even that is good.
Among the lessons offered by said disease is the need to let go,  and the need to get past obstructions. The way to get past an obstruction is to let the thing go.

Meditation is something I do almost daily. Mine is a hybrid of meditation-hypnosis as they occur in the same level of consciousness.  Often I start with writing, be it gratitude, free writing, sorting out something on my mind, whatever.
Then I move on to the altered state work. In it I take whatever gets dredged up and look at it.

In the past I would simply acknowledge the incident, admit it, and move away from it.
Now I add one more step. Because of the lessons of 2014 I learned this:
Leave it to its time.

Recall an embarrassing moment?  A stupid thing you did, said, believed? They come up at the most annoying times. When they do it is because they've something to show you.
Acknowledge them, accept them, and leave them.
If it happened when you were 12, then it is a part of your past and stays at 12. You can't undo what happened, you can only get beyond it.
If you did it last week, leave it there. Granted that's still pretty fresh.  It may take some time and distance to get beyond it, but if it is important to your growth it will come back to haunt you.
When that happens, let it bubble up and then leave it to its time.
It is a part of your past. That is where it belongs.

The experience of it stays with you and that is what is important. What you've learned, how you've grown, those things matter.
Keep the lesson, leave the incident.

With that I acknowledge 2014 and those matters which may be perceived as bad. I am grateful for them, and I leave them to their time.

For What It Is

I've been doing a great deal of cancer research. I've looked at the types of surgery available for colon cancer, the stages of the disease, chemotherapy and radiation treatments and their side effects, alternative treatments be they good, bad, or odd, and have saturated my mind.
I've learned quite a bit. I've applied some of the research to my daily fruit and vegetable smoothie.
Whatever else it does, raw fruits and vegetables are good for a body.
One simply cannot go wrong ingesting, good, healthy food.

But there comes a point where one must stop the research. Certainly one cannot have too much information.
Information is power.
Power guides one to direct one's energy.

I am at that point. I have decided to stop gathering knowledge and accept this disease for what it  is: a chance to change.
In the mind-body connection the area affected refers to issues such as control. It's not having any, or giving up one's control to others.
In my life I have dampened my energies to get along. I have forced myself to be less than I am.
This is wrong
This is stupid.
This stops now.

Cancer has brought me this lesson. I aim to learn it, learn it well, and practice it every single day for the rest of my long, healthy life.

I expect I'll slip back into the old program on occasion. It takes time to learn to live a different way.
But it can and will be learned.
I anticipate the loss of some friends and acquaintances.  if they don't like it, then they had no business being in my life in the first place.
I anticipate new, exciting friends and acquaintances who are a better fit for me.

It is an exciting time in my life and I embrace it.

Gratitude Monday --The Shape of Things to Come

Today I see the surgeon about the tumour in my colon.
I'll find out where it is, what it is doing, and how and when we get rid of it.
In short I will know what is happening now and learn the shape of things to come.
Knowing is best, and for this knowledge I am grateful.

I Choose Fight

Diseases and disorders have metaphysical components.  Each has spiritual reasons for manifesting, and addressing the reasons goes a long way toward healing.
Yes, or course, working on the physical level alone can work, but you'll only get something similar later on until you deal with all the underlying causes.

Among the reasons in my case is conflict and its avoidance.
I'm hardly alone. Very few people like conflict of any sort. I have a few in my life who seem to like it. Those people are bad for me so I avoid them.

My cancer is in the first or root chakra. The red one. The one that makes us choose fight or flight.
I usually go with flight. I would rather find away to avoid fighting. Over the years I've gotten good at it and good at burying conflict, too.
I like to remain calm, detached even. This is okay, because matters can still get dealt with. But those other times when I just avoid standing up, speaking my mind, those are the ones that spiritually grew me the tumor.

I saw a very talented medium the other day and learned many, many things.
As consequence of that consultation, the days of walking away are over.
Instead of turning my back I will nurture my backbone.

I choose fight.

Gratitude Monday–Cancer, My Ass!

The above is my attitude and my battle cry.
Last Friday I learned I have bowel cancer, and I am grateful.
Why?
Because it all went very quickly and knowing is better than waiting.

I made a medical appointment on Monday for June 27, the earliest available.  I was told at the time to call at 08:30 any morning to ask about cancellations.  On Tuesday morning I went for a bike ride and thought about it. For days I had been seeing in my mind a  particular doctor examining me. It was not the one  I was to see on the 27th. When I called Tuesday the doctor who had a cancellation that morning was the one in my mind.

He sent me to the lab for assorted tests and set about setting up a colonoscopy appointment for me. He called the lab while I was still there, directing someone to direct me to a woman at the  hospital who provides info to day surgery patients.
She wasn't in, but called me a few hours  later to tell me the procedure was set for Red Deer Hospital on Friday.

I learned right away about the mass and that it appears to be curable by surgery alone.  The doctor took a sample for biopsy and is setting both CT scan and surgery for me.  If is hasn't moved past its current location everything will be sorted out on the table.
If not, I'll deal with it.

I've lost a bit of the extra weight I was carrying due to being on heart meds. I have a good appetite and plenty of energy. Ironically, I look and feel better than I have in years.
I have started in on fruit and veggie smoothies so my body will be healthier and be able to repair itself.  I've done some research and will do more, and I refuse to worry until I have something worth worrying about.
For all of this, I am grateful.

Cancer, my ass!

Photo-Finish Friday -- Jonesie

NB:
Cancer affects all of us whether we're able to admit it or not.
It's LIVESTRONG day in the United States, the 10th anniversary of Lance Armstrong's cancer diagnosis. A blogger buddy of The Bag Lady is asking people to tell their stories of how cancer has affected their lives. Please check out POD.
##

Why, yes. I am cute. Thanks for noticing.

This is Jonesie. He showed up on our back porch one day a few weeks ago and acted like he owned the place. I gave him his name because he's been Jonesing to get in our house from the very first moment he set paw on the place.
Until now.
We put the quilt out to take the air yesterday. About an hour later I went into the kitchen and saw what I thought was bird on it.
Instead, it was ears.
The above pussycat knew we clearly put it out for him. He made one token effort to get in the house, and then went back to his down-lined nest.
Since then he's barely twitched a whisker.