24 November 2009

LIVING IN GRATITUDE 77 : TAKING LIFE AT ITS PACE


I lived life at a high speed, afraid I would miss out on something : there was so much happening in the world, and I wanted to be a part of it. I was healthy and strong, so I was able to push myself far.

This year I was forced to stop. While I was going through my treatment, although I was grateful that the treatment was curing me of cancer, I also cursed it for depleting my physical and emotional body. All of a sudden I 'got' what it meant to live with a body that was very weakened. I experienced what it meant when each step, each movement was a huge physical effort. It was like crossing into a grey area I had completely ignored: learning to have compassion for those with physical ailments (whether due to old age or illness).



Now, I'm so grateful that I have been forced to slow down. To take life at its pace, rather than at my previously, frantically chosen pace. It's given me a very new way of looking at life and relating to people, this, in turn, deepens my appreciation for E V E R Y T H I N G.

photos from this year's Diwali - India's festival of light (the equivalent of Christmas in terms of families coming together and celebrating).

12 November 2009

LIVING WITH GRATITUDE 75 : WRITING AGAIN


After reading a friend's book, I have been inspired to write again... although the fatigue still remains in my body, I feel like communicating again, for the first time in over 4 months.

My friend describes her journey with cancer: “yet with all our (medical) advances, far too many of us remain ill. We’re ill within body, mind and spirit. Patients who are dismissed by doctors as medically “cured” often remain unwell and restless in a quest for something more. The hurt hasn’t stopped. The search for well-being continues long after the treatments end.”



I have lived this. Once I was “cured” everyone around me expressed so much happiness and joy. I was off the "cancer" hook. However, inside, I still felt so physically unwell and so traumatised by the treatment I could barely talk about it. For the first time in my life, I knew what they meant by "shell shock", I felt like a veteran who had come home from war : shaken to the core and unable to share the feelings with anyone who had not been through the trauma (cancer treatment). I felt so alienated. It felt like my life, as I knew it was over. No more desires for anything. My spiritual and emotional bodies were also in great need of healing. And the doctors were calling me "cured!".

I was “cured” in June. It’s now November. I planned to touch base at Sakthi Amma's (in South India) for ten days in July and do the rest of my recovery period in Paris. But once I got here, I felt I was in the best place on earth for my recovery. It has been. And it still is.

In the last days I feel as if a layer of thick mist within has lifted. Actually, in the last few weeks, this feeling has arisen several times. Those moments of feeling well are like oil on the surface on water : as soon as I try to touch it, it dissipates, the fatigue rises and I’m back in bed for the day. The sense of a little victory disappears and I have no choice but to give in to the needs of my fatigued body.

One thing is different this time, is that I have the desire to write. This is new. Maybe a renewal.


23 September 2009

TEXT I wrote for Women's Health Conference

A New York friend recently asked me to write about my experience with cervical cancer for a conference she was organising on Women's health, encouraging women to have annual PAP smears. Here is the text I wrote:


The words I never, ever thought I’d hear, never dreamt I ‘d hear , came out of the doctor’s mouth: « you’ve got cervical cancer, we’re not sure how advanced the cancer is, but it’s advanced,».

It was a Monday morning sometime in January this year, I was in my hometown in Australia, sitting in a doctor’s office. The week before, I had had a general check up and had been told that my health was « impeccably good ».
« We haven’t got the PAP smear results back yet, they’ll take a few more days, » the doctor had said.


I was 39 years old, I travelled frequently for my work (something I loved) and I felt that my life was very blessed as I was very rich with friendships and somehow, life served me abundantly in rich experiences through my work and relationships.

The doctor had called me in, rather than give me the results over the phone which had given me an uneasy feeling. But, hey, I was super healthy in terms of my previous tests, wasn’t I ? Then those words…
« you’ve got cancer. »

It was one of those times in my life when all stands still. The words felt like thunder. « What ??? »
As the doctor called up the gynecologist oncologist for an appointment that very day, in order to measure the tumor, I sat there dumbstruck, with tears running down my eyes. I had gone to the doctor's appointment alone. I felt very alone.
« Is this how I die ? » It may sound dramatic but until then, I had felt invincible. Everything had felt possible. However, my father, uncle, grandfather and stepfather had died of cancer in the previous 3 years… I had seen with my own eyes, how deadly and painful cancer could be. Getting cancer had secrectly been my greatest fear and it seemed to becoming a reality. Furthermore, many women do die of cervical cancer each year.

The more I spoke to people about my condition, the more I found out how many women had had « warning signs » or « pre-cancerous cells » found in the cervix. Approximately 1 in 3 women I spoke to had had « warning signs. » These were women who had had PAP SMEAR tests anually.
What happened with me ? Why did I have full blown cancer when so many other women seem to have nabbed it in the nick of time ? I had neglected to have a PAP smear in 4 years. Eighteen months earlier I had visited my gynecologist who did not do a PAP smear, which I thought was « strange » but I didn’t insist… Now I so wish I had insisted on that PAP smear.

So what happened to me ? I survived, I’m here to tell you the story. But I went through hell – an expérience I wouldn’t wish on ANYBODY. For a week I received radiotherapy in form of Brachitherapy which meant direct radiation on the tumor found in my cervix. I was strapped to a bed, lying on my back for 6 days and received radiation for 30 minutes every hour, 24 hours a day. I couldn’t move as it would have endangered the emplacement of the radiation apparatus in my vagina and uterus. It was difficult to sleep as the machine kept clicking on every 30 minutes. After the radiation, I experienced chronic fatigue, depression and my body had greatly weakened from the radiation. A month later just before I had my 4th and final surgery for the treatment, I wanted my life to end. The suffering felt too much to cope with. I wanted to just disappear under a moving bus. Somehow I managed to keep myself to the footpath and underwent a radical hysterectomy which meant I lost my uterus and ovaries. Overnight I was a woman in menopause and I was only 39 years old... The chronic fatigue and depression continued. A far cry from the independant, free-spirited and loving person I had been a few months before.

The cancer was due to the HPP virus, an STD. My experience could have been much different, so less traumatic had I had my PAP smear done annually. Is there a moral to my life story ? If there is one, it’s about taking care of the goddess within. It’s about doing the really simple things, like getting a PAP smear done annually as well as getting one’s breasts checked every 12 months. PAP smears should be done annually as soon as one is sexually active (however recent studies show that the virus has been found in a percentage of young girls who have not been sexually active)
(IAmerican Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology, Volume 200, Issue 5, Pages 487.e1-487.e5).

If my experience can encourage other women to get their PAP smears done annually, then, there will have been a purpose to the profoundly difficult journey I have recently travelled.

08 September 2009

vedas


Well it has been a while... but honestly, my life here in South India is not at all conducive to sitting in front of a computer - and have been REALLY REALLY focusing on my internal healing as being cured of cancer is one thing but there is so much for the body + mind to recover from. In my case, the chronic fatigue and depression have certainly shifted since I have been in India. Other ailments like pain in my legs when walking or standing got me getting quite distressed ...then there has been the psychological mountain ... which I am still climbing through.


on another note...
Here are pictures from Sripuram's 2nd anniversary (last week of August) - the focuse of this year's celebration was very sober : there was a homam (fire ritual) where the vedas were chanted for 6 days, with 9 fires burning and 4 rituals done each day, offering ghee and other goodies to the spirit world so they can take good care of the rainfall, nature, and the world in general...


Unfortunately I was physically unwell that particular week, so only visited the chanting once a day... if i had been better, I would have been there all day as I love to listen to vedic chanting ! Despite me feeling unwell, I did delivery the priests some cake at the end of the day - on the last three days.


and yes, it did rain A LOT at the end of the 6 days...

31 July 2009

birthday


Today I turn 40 - and while others may be a little freaked out approaching the new decade - I'm grateful to be alive, cancer free, and grateful for the healing (possibly a bit slow for my liking at times... but this whole process has got me slowed down on every level...)

I had an attack of insomnia last night so baked a cake (I'll take it to the local pre-school and share it with the smiling children there), and started a new loaf of bread (baking bread has become my daily activity : it keeps me grounded + present + it's something I have always wanted to learn but always been too busy to do.)

I also did this drawing (I will upload a selection of most recent drawings - I have been consistently drawing but didn't have it in me to be in communication... had to have a shut down period).

I have been doing a lot of crying recently which is sort of a relief because I haven't been able to cry for some time. Now I can cry tears : feels like the next step of healing can take place - that sadness can now shift.


Text from image : gratitude, bread-making, living in the present moment, loads of healing tears. (I have been having difficulty living in the present moment, so this drawing was like preparing an ode for how to live today... and there will be smiles too...)

08 June 2009

living in gratitude 75 : 2 steps ahead 1 step behind

It's been exactly a week since I got back to my appartment after 3 weeks at Rose's home on the left bank with its elevator to get me up + down. It was really lovely to find my own space - I had actually been away for a month! (including the week in hospital)

text : 5 weeks after surgery
9 1/2 weeks after radiation
exhausted
depleted
depressed




text : shattered

text : 4 general aneasthetics, 120 hours of radiation + surgically induced menopause
depleted depleted depleted depleted depleted depleted depleted depleted depleted depleted


The myth is that now I don't have cancer, I am well... mmmmmm... let me clarify: that I don't have cancer means I am cancer free... so that means I have a sense of relief (no longer have that sense of having a heavy sentence upon me as I don't have to do any more treatment) but I'm still in the recovery phase + it feels like it is 2 steps ahead and 1 step behind. Although my brain may tell me "I am cancer free", my body doesn't believe it.
My body answers back to me : " Are you kidding??? Do you really believe that I am going to trust you??? After all that you've made me go through... yeah ... sure.... how can I know you are not sending me off for some more gruelling treatment???..."


text : keeping myself excessively busy to not feel the pain
and now I am depleted
(this is in reference to my excessively busy life before being diagnosed where I was constantly travelling + working + exhibiting)

text : depleted


At the moment, I limit myself to an activity a day (which is usually a doctor's appointment).

For 1 or 2 days I am relatively OK (exhausted but ok) if I don't do anything else. And it seems that on the 2nd or 3rd day I am so depleted that I don't go much further than horizontal on my sofa or my sketching pad.


I'm coping pretty well with climbing my five flight of stairs - it's exhausting but do+able.


text : feeling so fragile

text : living with so much pain for so long


text : shattered

My cousin asked me "are you feeling better?" And ... well... frankly not particularly... the main difference is that the stomach area from surgery is healing + I can move much better + get up easily now from a sitting or lying position. But it does make a difference to know I don't have to have any more treatment for the moment.

30 May 2009

living in gratitude 74 : pause button on communicating


Now that my health is no longer in danger,
I am going to put the pause button on communicating
+ take a break from this blog +


+ focus on getting better physically

+ emotionally.


I will keep drawing + creating but keep it in the private realm.




I like this image, it gives me a real sense that
"I am alive, I am here -
and I have something as strong as the tree to lean on."





And this is a reminder of all the shadow work, the non-tangible internal work that needs to be taken care of...

will update from time - to - time.