It was true! My Lunar had a new summer friend: a fox! I live rural and have an abundance of wildlife on my land that visit. This post will share some simple guidelines, and silly experiences, that will help you pick your pet’s next perfect companion!
How Do You Know Your Pet Wants (or Needs) a Companion? Recently I adopted a friend for my 10 year old kitty, Lunar. He showed, and told, me a number of times, in different ways that he was ready for his next friend. Two years ago we lost our beloved Mr. Orbit. At this time I started to build my new home, plus, I was dealing with the onset (and remedy) of cancer. Life was handing me too much and another pet was not feasible. Lunar and I were lost without Mr. Orbit, but we had each other, plus Lily and Rio our horses.
It took 3 years after purchasing my property to complete my house, horse property, et all. Life was starting to reveal, and Lunar was definitely telling me he was ready for another kitty buddy; one that he told me was awaiting us.
Lunar’s Signs of Needing a Mate of His Own Once Lunar was my solo cat, he roamed to my next door neighbors. They had chickens and peacocks. Lunar had friended Penny the oldest female, which is called a peahen. They had a reciprocal relationship. From the onset of moving into my RV, Penny was curious about Lunar. She would often visit, and my neighbors told me Lunar visited his feathered friends at their place. But things changed this year. Penny had 3 baby peacocks. She often would parade them over to my place to show me and Lunar. Yet as the babies grew bigger, they were challenging Lunar who just sat and stared at their nonsensical behaviors. Penny was now a mother serving her offspring. Thus, Lunar’s relationship with Penny shifted.
I live where wildlife roams. Daily lots of species visit. Deer with fawns, young bucks; of course the peacocks, wild turkeys with offspring; an occasional passing cat (which Lunar had no opinion over); hawks, eagles, owls, skunks, squirrels, snakes, raccoons and one lone fox. This was the summer of the fox. Lunar would disappear for hours with his new friend. They were close by. Typically, hunting together. I figured this out one day when Lunar showed me his new talent of hunting the tiniest of shrews. Something he had never done before. He didn’t eat them, just showed them to me; putting them down to watch them scamper away. The fox was hanging around the horse barn area. Lunar loved to stay near Lily and Rio, so that was where they met.
One night I saw the fox advance on Lunar, and it was clear they knew each other. However, Lunar did not want the fox near our home and chased it to the edge of our property. The fox was not too scared, but he did respect Lunar’s boundaries. A few days later my neighbor drove by. She then texted me: “I don’t know if you are aware, but a fox was messing around with Lunar, so I stopped and scared the fox off.” I laughed and texted back that was Lunar’s latest friend. The fox moved on after a few weeks. Probably in search of a new mate. There were two foxes at one time; one went missing. I figured this lone fox wanted to find a mate of its own species, which is natural. And, it was becoming apparent Lunar needed a permanent friend in his own species too.
The Main Event: Lunar’s Turn to Have His Own Mate Lunar became more anxious when I left for long periods of time during the day, particularly after his fox departed. I needed and took my first days, time away from our property of 3 years. I knew from his recent behavior it might be difficult on Lunar, due to his insistent codependency on me. So, I had 2 caregivers come in several times a day to feed and play with Lunar. It was not enough. He wanted me. And told me so. And so did the Lunar’s sitters. This was Lunar while I was packing up to go. He parked himself in my car. Lunar understood I was leaving under gracious protest.
As I traveled north, I told Lunar’s Angels to give me a tangible earth sign that Lunar was really ready to accept his own kind into his life again. Lunar had been content for a long time being the only child. So I said, “Make it obvious.” I stayed at a motel for a few nights. The first night I arrived the motel put me outback where it was quiet. Ironically, people with their pet dogs were in rooms next to me. I did not request it, yet it was fitting I was put in the pet zone.
When I pulled up to what looked like an abandoned car, I decided to re-park in front of my room. However, I noticed something behind that car and walked back over to look. And, I laughed. The sign from the universe came in the form of an abandoned cat cage! That was a pretty darn obvious answer. I decided, to make sure it was not someone’s cage, so I left it to my last night. If it was still there I’d check it out more, as it was filthy dirty.
As it were, the cage waited for me. So I took it into the motel room, put it in the shower and gave it a good bath. Hello! Behold this cage was brand new! No rust on it, only a sales sticker. Perfect. Even better than the two I already owned!
As I drove home I asked Lunar what type of kitty he wanted. Lunar’s guides assisted this process as well. As our chat unfolded we agreed it needed to have soft, kind energy that matched Lunar. Someone, he could mentor, as well as play with and enjoy. The 3 pets during Lunar’s 10 years had been adopted from shelters. And all had major issues. Lunar was a nursemaid to all. Now, he needed to have an easier companion; we both did.
What I learned was there was a 1 -1/2 year old female waiting in a shelter close to where we lived. She needed a friend too. She would be reserved, a quiet one, with a soft kind heart like Lunar. No particular color. It was about the energy match that I had felt.
When I got home Lunar meowed huge scolds at me. Yet, hugged me tight. The next morning he was crying. Yes. Cats cry with real tears. He drooled too. Lunar told me he had missed me too much. Was afraid of being left alone again. I assured him it was time for his next new cat friend. And, I would find her that week.
Two days later I had a dental appointment in a city to the north. I took the new cage with me and told Lunar that I’d see what I could do. No promises, because I would not come home without the perfect match for him. There was a shelter on the way to- and from the dental office. Tucked away on a side road. I did not know this until I did a search the night prior. I felt that would be the place to start, after noticing other shelters a bit further away. I did peruse the adoption pages, but decided to look in person. I wanted to adopt all those cats staring at me from their website page.
I entered the shelter. It was clean and well run. I told the head person what I was looking for, and she showed me the different rooms, each full of available cats and kittens to adopt. The first room I started in, was full of good sized, mature cats. Many were patiently waiting their ‘person’. One big orange cat was so friendly to pet. He was 6 years. I knew the age didn’t match, but thought I’d see his temperament. What he wanted was to get out of his cage. He did not want me. It was clear he conned me! As fast as he could he jumped out of my arms, to the floor, and started cat fighting with another cat that was housed below his cage. Then he went onto harass another! Holy cow. I had the perfect encounter to remind me to listen to the energy match first. Fortunately, a staff member came in the room to attend another, so she quickly scooped the con artist up and put him in his cage. This room was full of very mature cats. None that qualified in age or energy. I moved to another room, then another.
I came to a room with assorted cats. As I looked them over, I watched a group of people interact with a group of kittens. I scanned the cages and stopped at the corner cage. I was drawn in. A small brown tabby was sleeping curled up in the back corner of her cage. But then, eyed me. I opened the cage. Put my hand in cautiously, to pet her. She put her head in my hand and relished what my hand offered. Her energy was reserved, so kind, and she seemed so very sad. I closed the cage and read: female, spayed, 1-1/2 years old. I watched her as I looked at the others. She got up and started eating her food. I knew I sparked something in her, as she had in me. The room was rather chaotic with the family playing with the kittens. I decided to go get more info on “Katara”.
Katara had been relinquished by her owners, along with her 4 kittens. She had been born in their house, never spayed, had at least this known litter, then all were brought in to the shelter a couple weeks back. When I found all this out, my heart broke for her. No wonder she was sad. In less than a month she lost a life she knew; lost her 4 kittens; had surgery and put in a confined small cat cell to recover. Geez. Too much for such a sensitive, young, kitty. As I was asking about Katara several of the attendants heard, then told me Katara was very sweet and easy to handle. I told them I was going back to talk with her.
The room was vacant when I entered. I opened Katara’s cage, and asked her from my heart if she wanted to come home with me. She advanced and put her head in my hand and said a hopeful yes. She began kneading her towel too. That did it for me. I almost cried for her, as she had almost lost all hope. I returned to the front desk. As I filled out the paperwork, two of the attendants nodded in approval that Katara would go home with me. I went and got her new cage. They asked if I needed help putting her in the cage. I told them I could get her; and they let me do so.
I opened the cage for the third time. Quietly I said, “Katara, come out from your corner, you are going home with me.” She got up, stepped forward with caution, so I could pick her up. I held her to my heart, and told her she was safe. She began purring and did not stop. I placed her in the cage and went out front to bid good-bye. The staff was amazed I got her in so fast. I told them she purred the whole time and they were rather mystified, as she never purred for them. Our ride home was quiet. When I arrived home I put her in the bathroom still in her cage, so I could ready the big cage in the living room. I was listening to her prompts. She did not want to be isolated. So I put her in the large cage where she could see and get acquainted with Lunar safely. Lunar was outside, so I let Katara have settlement time.
When Lunar came in he did not fuss to much with Katara and did not approach the cage until a half hour later. They met nose to nose. Katara is small, only 5 pounds. Lunar is a big kitty, weighing 15. She hissed at Lunar, showing caution. Lunar looked at her, and opened his mouth in a sort of hiss without sound. He walked off. Later, he checked on her again. And they repeated the same. After that they just got along. I waited until the following day to let her out to greet Lunar. And, it was apparent they would bond to be best friends given the time and space to do so.
My passion is writing. Therefore, I have many, too many books in the waiting corridors. Some are written; but need me to be prompted by a new title, cover, or the time to ‘get it out there’. Some books are solidly in my head, and qualified; yet, will only emerge when I say ‘GO’! Others are in drafts, so I would not forget my incubating ideas.
What inspires one book to come forth over another? Good question. Easy answer. When a book won’t leave me alone. It actually starts writing itself in my head! No kidding. And, it grows a life of its own. Typically, if a topic will not leave me alone for 6-9 months, I know it will work it’s way out through my fingers on the computer. These are the gems.
My teacher lesson plans are short, succinct, and pointed. They evolve themselves, but are short works. They change over time with feedback, and sales stats which guide my decisions. Some took off selling right away. Others sell, but are not robust. And some do not sell for a variety of reasons.
I often get an idea while outside working on fencing, gardening, cleaning stalls and doing other physical work without thought. But then it happens. Another book idea. Right now I have too much in the coffers to attend. So, I focus on which one will be next… until a really novel idea that looks enticing butts itself onto the scene.
This is what happened with THE Holy Water Intervention. It really had been incubating for a long time. Once my house build was complete and it got signed off, the words started to flow fast. I had a cause. Like many earthlings, I watched in amazement of the chaos and nonsense manifested from the minds of humanity. And think-thought why? So much greed, abuse, war, ugly things people do to each other, animals, and our earth. The solutions seem so simple to me: STOP THIS NONSENSE. But, people are muddled in their mind messes and most refuse to take any self responsibility.
I often quipped with friends. If Facebook and other social influencers would change the consciousness of their platforms, this world could- and would change within months. But, sadly 3D ideals still grip many. And, ridiculous headlines (whether true or not) are at the forefront.
Much brewed inside me to do something… I could instigate alone. And, my comrades across the veil helped direct me to this cause. And so, I wrote continuously, with intentional guidance until THE Holy Water Intervention was complete.
The Holy Water Intervention came about because the earth, particularly the water, and my hillside filled with spirit energy ‘talked’ to me; guided me; channeled ideas, and prompted me for the last 9 months. I could not rest. This work was special. I felt it deep inside me. Like I was born to write this ONE. When I shared my book with my friend, Wanda. She promptly echoed, “You have to get this work out ASAP. It’s too important.” So I enlisted Wanda. She provided a readers perspective from an agnostic point of view. I came from a religious background. I aimed for a wider audience; a book that would appeal to many. I needed to balance this work from another’s perspective. With our divergent backgrounds there was not always absolute agreement. And that was perfect. Because what emerged was clarity for a complex subject. So, a BiG THANK YOU goes to Wanda!
So where do writer’s get their inspiration? For me, I’ve never had an inspiration problem. Although, I do wonder how much time I have left on earth to write all that seems important. I am a teacher. And always will be. This was what I came here to do. I had a fortuitous lifetime employed as such. I love to write; have the compulsion to do so. I believe in life balance. But, I enjoy the creative process so much so, I do have issues with taking time out. Thankfully, my animal family keeps me grounded. And, the water also lends perspective in my daily shower. So my allies have me covered!
THE Holy Water Intervention is currently sold as a paperback and in hard cover at Barnes & Noble and Amazon. I urge everyone especially those who are skeptical to consider using prayer water as a solution for your own good health and the impending health of our planet. It certainly can’t hurt to try it out for awhile, right?
The contrast is great and the energies shape shift daily. We are bombarded with staying aligned with our authentic self while sorting through our interpersonal relationships.
It is said people are in our life for a reason, a season, or a life time. We intend, and believe, some will last a lifetime. But, many may remain in our memory instead.
Relationships cannot, and should not, remain the same. Particularly when they are very long term. And we are ever evolving. Others will challenge our thoughts and beliefs as we grow. It is natural to have conflict that appears to severe all ties. However, sometimes we just need a long break from each other to have the space to grow differently, and independently.
Our relationships are built on a foundation of commonalities. A childhood. A shared place; such as school or work. An association with a particular community, or set of values. A marriage. It is not unusual that our growth may excel and need change while our others want to remain status quo. There is nothing wrong with either states of being. However new found awareness that transforms us, can separate us, as our perspectives evolve. Most often the unchanged wants to reclaim the person as they formerly were. And this is where relationships get rocky.
How do we know if our relationship is ending? There is usually a precipice that tips a partnership. We can go along and accept our differences for a long time. Yet, when one no longer wants to dance the same steps with their partner there may be cause to quit. Or, take a long break. In marriage, partnerships, friendships and family this scenario plays out in many dynamics. Long term relationships tend to hold on long after they are over because of hope to restore what once was. But the fact is, you cannot go back once you cross a bridge and decide to grow on. When both parties allow their others to evolve while each works on their own shadow-side, it is healthier. Working out stuff together typically is quite challenging. Because when individual reassessment and awareness occurs it succeeds best outside of the environment that was not conducive to growth.
Ask yourself if your relationship enhances and supports you in the way you want. Ask if you- and your other are transparent in sharing honestly all vulnerabilities. Ask if you have been truthful to yourself, or your other. Have you been accountable in your thoughts and actions. If your answers are NO, your relationship is either permanently over, or needs a long break to heal.
Often we do not want to severe a relationship that we have cherished. Yet events lead to a point of what may be no return. Perceptions of what once was, does not exist. When you are willing to say it is fine if this over, it releases you from any further expectations of another. In this release there is freedom of mind-body-spirit. Because it is an end of a want that can not be fulfilled. If your relationship had been lived in trust and truth, it will rekindle. If not, it is usually completed. When you surrender to saying good-bye you also give yourself permission to become healthier without being held back.
Every long term relationship is challenged at some point. The key is to be truthful to yourself, and your others. Using self-effacement, void of blame and judgment, one can determine whether a relationship will continue. It is only through trust and honesty you both can teach and reach your other. Because, trust is the true foundation of all lasting relationships.
No longer am I the person you want to remember. And seek to encapsulate me there for the sake of your memory. Like a snake who outgrows their skin, I shed my past. My transformation naturally culled friends, family, things, attachments, and rearranged pieces of my former personality.
All of us are being asked to shed 3rd dimensional contracts now, and move fully into 5D. Those who insist on living by antiquated 3D ideals will suffer. All must heal. We must own our thoughts and in-congruent actions. We must dwell within our heart for guidance. And, come to accept all we experienced, then and now. Please know we created all that happened. As, we continue to create all that will happen every day.
Forgive yourself. Forgive others. Forgive for what you could not control. For if you, or your others, had more awareness, events would have been acted upon much different.
To go forth, ask yourself: What kind of person do I want to be? Then become IT.
Do you desire to create a life of chaos ruled and puppeteer’d by your past learn behaviors? Or create a life of ease, happiness, and abundance with (or without) money?
It is not enough to know what you know. That past is gone. Now, you must dive into the (uncomfortable) unknown. And trust there is an amazing future you waiting. Go find your authentic self. Alignment with your soul self comes from an awareness only you can bring to you, alone.
This is a journey of self responsibility. No amount of money can provide the freedom you seek. Go within. Reflect. Accept. Forgive. Love yourself. All resources are within you.
You will get through your midnight of the soul. However, it takes time. And inner work to discipline your thoughts daily, hourly, and each minute. Make use of wherever you are right now. Life is temporary on earth. Do not squander this gift.
I do not know you, as you do not know me now. But perhaps we will come to know each other again living in 5D.
Hello Everyone! I thought I skipped my once a year newsletter last year! But I found it – and if you want a refresher CHECK HERE for the 2022 Newsletter!
After I wrote the 2022 News, my life got challenging. Well. Actually. Downright tough. The winter of 2022 was dismal with rain. I took feed to my horses daily, cleaned stalls, and wrestled with the 100 pound stall gates that dragged on the ground and ripped my body muscles apart. Meanwhile, I was hand grooming their pasture at home, putting in fenced posts. Rain or sunshine. I was determined to get my horses home again, and asap. And I wanted my ‘normal’ life back, whatever that meant.
I designed and got my small house through permitting in March 2022. It rained non stop so the real building did not start until end of May. Meanwhile I did what I could to move forward. I wrote some lesson books in the long evenings for my Patty Ann’s Pet Project mission. During this time of extremely persistent work I pulled 3 ribs out. At the same spot a lump grew.
Long story short. The day my foundation was poured I had surgery. Breast cancer. Yep. I accumulated a PhD. My life challenges started piling higher and deeper than ever before. Check out my breast cancer blog for details HERE.
Worse still, I had to turn my horses to full care on this same ranch because I could not even carry a bucket of grain to them. The owner, another alcoholic narcissist, barely fed them. The more I spoke to him the worse he got. Horrors once more? The other narc rancher beat Rio. This one starved Lily! &#*%!?
Surgery, radiation, building going on 20’ from my RV and my builder revealed his addictions loudly. The universe was relentless. But instead of focusing on the crap of my life – I focused on getting someone to fence my property. I took over being General Contractor to get my house framed up. I looked for someone to build a horse shed. My house build was frightful. Full of drama that the builder instigated. GULP! My radiation brain was mush. But. I forged on.
Daily things snowballed into ridiculous. I told people my hillside was haunted. Not far from the truth. Suffice to say. A new builder rescued me. I got my horses home. Put them back into the covered carport. I got into my unfinished house that I continue to finish myself. The nice contractor will finish up when the weather turns permissible again.
What’s this all have to do with the Pet Project? Well, some interesting books came out of it. However, the publishing world has now taken a recession dump. Sales so minimal it should make me quit. But I don’t. I don’t know how. I still have my Pet Project goals and visions.
Neighbors ask how I continue to get stuff done. My philosophy is do only 1 or 2 things a day—and it will show up. A phone call to a plumber. Another fence post in. Pay a bill. Organize a schedule. Keep the end goal in mind. It’s a progression. My property is far from complete. But living in, even a partial done house, my life hardships have eased. And every step of the way I am GRATEFUL. I survived. And masterminded my life a day at a time. Never did I not lose sight of my vision.
So that’s the short of my last year. The Pet Project still exists. But I made changes to make that easier. I sell only through resellers listed on my website. (I was getting charge-backs on my website sales that I could not afford.) After 3 years, Amazon Ignite closed their ebook sale shop. They are also closing Amazon.smile. I have also closed resellers that sucked my time with no return. I’ve been in e-publishing a long time. It goes in cycles. I will stick with it, as I love to write.
Yup. Not your ordinary Pet Project update. Just wanted to tell you all I am still thriving. Still have my Pet Project mission in sight, even if in remission.
Drop me a note on your life. Some of you I know personally. Some not. All are welcome to respond.
Until the next newsletter. I wish you all the very best.
One week ago my daughter married the man of her dreams. It was a blessed evening. A tiny wedding that was exquisite. Set outdoors in the typical Pacific Northwest style of rustic beauty and elegance. A night of celebration, reflection and re-prose. One day more it would be 40 years exactly her dad and I married in a more simple outdoor wedding down the road. And one day less, 8 years exactly was when we officially divorced. Her wedding date was sandwiched between our vows and demise.
Five years ago I could not comprehend this day. My children and I were reconciling from a 4 year estrangement because of my choice to grow on, heal, and become who I am now. Last week, during the morning hours I visited my old home of 30+ years. My daughter warned me to not be upset. It was overgrown and consumed by the forest. In poor disrepair. Hoarded up with stuff.
I said hello and good-bye to our family dog of 13 years who has cancer and a growing tumor inside. Her days are numbered. Our family cat of 17 years, always elusive heard my wish to see her. Quietly she met me out on the porch. She was thin. Her tabby coat more black than the once brown. I pet her as she beamed. She knew I was coming. For a few precious moments she meowed, purred, and rubbed herself on my legs. We said hello and then good-bye. I held my tears back. Just barely.
I had not seen my ex since 5 years past. When I hugged him- and my kids in the church aisles of my mother’s funeral for the first time since our divorce. It was a new beginning. There have been many beginnings since then. One week ago I revisited the home I physically helped build, nail by nail, now dilapidated. I was filled with deep sorrow and gratitude for the paths that intersected on this day and started many, many moons ago.
I spoke with my children’s father with concern for his rat problem that was eating away his precious vintage cars he restored that stole years from our marriage. Gave him easy solutions as I always had fed him knowing he would not follow through. My children have struggled with him lately. They are now seeing, believing and knowing truths behind my marriage woes. I can no longer fix any of it. Because there is no fixing an addict. He has resumed some good health with a so called non addictive pills that counters the prescription pills he harbored for too many years.
I stared at him at our daughter’s wedding…and thought about the choices he made, continues to make. He plays innocent to victimizing himself with his own thoughts and learned behaviors. Made life hard. A mess of his own mind because of what? I found it odd a great love swept over me for him. Not a love of wanting what we could have had that didn’t happen. Not a marriage type of love or even friendship. It was a love I had never experienced before. It was a compassionate love for our journey. And deep compassionate love for his life of severe misalignment. I realized I never stopped loving him right then. I could not deny I certainly despised his abuse in our marriage and subsequent divorce. The post trauma and angst it set into motion in my own life was horrific. I’ve always said it is easy to love people. It is hard to like them.
And since that 7 days ago I’ve cried too often. Realizing I still had not fully forgiven myself. For what we co-created beyond and far before this so called reality. For what I could not control or fix or help for him; and still cannot. For the path he continues to manifest which now pains our children. And for the gratitude of knowing I had- and did save myself. I had not forgiven fully, nor surrendered to what is and continues to be. I am not sure I ever will when the solution to chose health seems so simple. But to most it is not simple, or easy. It takes a lot to own your stuff. To wade through a lifetime of upsets to your psyche. To find balance and ease and alignment with your soul self. To forgive what you could not control and, it was not in your power to do so for another.
My daughter’s wedding in effect was another transition spot. A full circle. Of years that opened me in ways I could not have ever perceived. Tears have run down my cheeks in random moments ever since. Many old friends hugged me tight and long for our long term journeys together. I realized through those hugs our deep connection; the impact and love we brought to each other throughout the years. I reveled in our reciprocal love and realized how much I had grown on from so much.
It is not my age or that I am afraid of time and death. It was not even in remembrance so much. It was a consciousness shift in appreciation for every path we have all chosen, healthy or not. My dying animals reminded me that all life is temporary. I am guaranteed to never physically feel them in this lifetime again. Our few precious moments are embedded in me now like no other. It was a strong realization of closure and life is fleeting and everyone and everything impermanent.
And so I cry. Thinking of the loves I left behind; that I had to walk away from to keep healthy. Perhaps my boundaries are too rigid now simply because I never had them. Perhaps I am running out of patience and tolerance for selfish and self serving people; or those who continue to make poor choices and re-enact episodes like old TV reruns.
As I re-entered Sams Valley I was tired. Complacent. Ambivalent. Feeling entirely done here. At the same time I surrendered to what the universe wants for me. I came home a day early. The next day out of state folks wanted to see my house specifically; and then again today. I am not excited, nor do I care. I feel at this point it doesn’t matter whether I stay here or go elsewhere. Although this was predetermined to be a temporary home. I knew it when I came. I long to return north where the grass is truly greener, the fire danger non existent, the summers much cooler, and to be closer to my kids. It no longer is about leaving for the things I hate here. It’s become about the new adventures that awaits me. For to stay here is to stagnate my own growth and desires. Plus, the memory of too many griefs I suffered here still lingers more than I care to admit.
I always said the universe would send me on from my ‘transition’ house when I was done baking. I am positive its getting closer. I am pretty sure these final pieces were vital to complete this chapter here: feeling this new compassionate love; too fully forgiving myself; and to trust again. I watch the puzzle pieces fall into their places, as they light my pathways ahead. Life continues to be a mystery, yet not so much now. However, my curiosity keeps me going. Because some days, I really want to sleep forever.
“Every Day is a Gift.” My aging Mother told me one day.
I pondered this often.
Her astute words came after a comment I made.
That I did not want to be on this earth
if I could not do the things I could do now.
I lead a very physical life.
Built Fences. Did Construction.
Hiked Mountains. Rode My Horses. More.
I could not conceive another type of life. But now I am forced to. I bought a property that seriously called me. I told the seller that nothing about buying his property made sense. But, for some reason it was beckoning me to live on this land. The view was irreplaceable restful. More so, I knew it was my predestined spot.
The property needed plenty. Serious clean-up; a questionable 1930s house; a hillside with dying trees that needed logging and de-stumped to make horse pasture. It was not just the horse setup, but a house for me and my cats too. While the task did not daunt me; a timetable was looming. I needed to exit where me and my pets were temporarily housed.
Exactly 3 months after closing day I brought my horses, cats and myself to my property. The house had been demolished. The trees gone. Pasture was de-stumped leaving huge slashed piles to burn. All underground utilities replaced and new. Temporary horse corrals and shelter setup. A small RV for me and my cats to live. I was literally in the trenches doing much of the work and orchestrating the rest. Determination and a vision drove me. My body worked tirelessly in the hottest week of August. I was a machine of accomplishment. Neighbors asked if I had an off switch. They also thanked me for giving the land new life.
Once living on site. More work. Fencing. Burning the slash. More months of cleanup ensued. My horses went to a close by ranch for their safety. As for me, I didn’t stop until I broke my body. I felt a rip through my back left side. I ignored. I let it go and continued to work, hurting. I reasoned my body would heal as it always had. But, it rebelled. My body burned. I felt a lump growing in my left side by my breast. My sister suggested a chiropractor to realign. I went. First time ever. I had 3 ribs out. After months of hurting I felt good. So good I went out and worked again. I felt my rib pop again. Sh*t. Why can’t I stop?
At this time I had a mammogram scheduled because of said lump. I went. There it was clearly. A mass on my left side by my rib. A lymph node also enlarged. The technicians were concerned. Sent me to ultrasound to measure it all as I watched. Then scheduled a biopsy. Sh*t again.
This is a strong lesson in self love. And to alter my life to self care. To think different. Do different. Ask for help. Accept outcomes. And LOVE myself more, because I AM WORTH IT.
I could slap myself. But believe I just did with a reality I manifested from ill thinking. I feel my mother hovering over me in spirit. A lot. I Love you Mom. And you are so right: EVERYDAY IS A GIFT.
YES ! Patty Ann’s Pet Project is still active, although my news notes are far in between!
This last year brought many changes to my world. A move out of southern Oregon, called me to the Coastal foothills. Living on a hillside no less! It’s been more than an adventure—more like being a pioneer! I had 2 acres of dead firs logged, stumped, slash piles burned, hand picked, raked then seeded. The pasture is coming in. Meanwhile the small house was another episode. Suffice to say all underground utilities were replaced. And a new little house is in permitting at this time. Meanwhile I have been living on the property in an RV, putting up fences, prepping the land for fence, barn, house, etc. which I anticipate SEEING this year.
I am still attending and writing teacher books to support the pet project which has been consumed primarily by the rescue I took in last year. Diamond Rio has turned into a gentle soul; even more so after getting him off the farm where the ranch owner-trainer beat him horrifically. Rio got vet bills and a leftover scar. This man was the craziness narcissist I’ve ever encountered. In fact, if not for him I’d might still be on Facebook which I exited last year. R.H. stalked my FB page. I posted about D.Rio. His ego could not take my friends posting kudos to my rehab of Rio, even though he, nor his ranch were ever mentioned. For this Rio got beaten and found comatose one morning. There is more. Much more. Saving it for a future book “Horses Behind Bars” which reveals the ugly truth of many show barns run by BULLIES!
It was with sheer will and tenacity I move all of us off that ugly ranch 3 months after buying my property of so many needs. And, there we all began to heal. It was soon apparent Rio and Lily had to be somewhere else for the winter. The land unearthed was not suitable, nor safe. It was torn up, soft with extreme rain, plus the huge piles of slash that needed to be burned. I found an old farm a few miles away. Just an old boarding place, yet safe. And a lot of happy horses. There Rio and Lily healed. Rio for the first time in his life was experiencing a small herd and learning horse language. This ranch gentled his soul like no other. He and Lily will come home this summer when things are ready. Meantime, I visit and care for them every day for hours. Some pictures of happy horses and Rio getting acquainted with his pasture mates!
As you know my Pet Project is supported by book sales, which is challenging nowadays. There is so many producing so much that even with creating more ebooks, sales are slim. Even so I write on. Finding old topics to put a new teaching twist on. For instance, The Narcissist Checklist is geared for assessing your relationships with one. Guess where this inspiration came from? 🙂
I have a unique line up of self help topics sold through resellers listed on my site PattyAnn.net. I have culled all social media except Pinterest where my ebooks get wide exposure. I’ve taken back my time off the computer since my property is demanding my attention. Not a bad thing to unplug. In fact, quite peaceful and freeing!
I hope this year brings each one of you what you want—or need!
Famous words for serious conversations:
“Is now a good time to talk?”
My biopsy Dr. said one late afternoon.
Her words softened, “IT IS CANCER.”
Her words hung in my head.
And yet, I was strangely detached.
Not really bothered. Not in shock.
I had long known I would get cancer at my age. I didn’t believe it to be a death threat, although that was what my doctor referral notice said. I thought I should be alarmed. But I was not.
A silence grew between us as I processed. The Dr. asked if I was alright. I said flatly, “It doesn’t surprise me”. Silence again. Then I followed up with “What’s next? I want this resolved.” I am not one to bury my head in the sand. Although I knew the lump was growing and passed it off months prior to ripping a tendon or muscle while lifting heavy gates and much more. Actually told a friend I was going to need surgery. However, I didn’t think it would be BREAST CANCER.
I told the Dr. what I had done months earlier and wondered if there was a connection. NO. This was a very slow growing tumor, commencing with estrogen deposits in the duct. I figured it did not become noticeable sooner because my diet is healthy: anti-oxident aka anti-cancer foods. The good news. No cancer was detected in the lymph node next door to my soft, swollen ‘cyst’ that was a tumor of ugly.
There are no coincidences. I wrecked my body after months of heavy lifting, digging and prepping my property to build a house and horse barn. I was severely misaligned and my left side was hurting bad. I went to my primary care and asked for a referral to see a chiropractor. And added I had a lump too. He asked if I wanted a mammogram. I said YES. So if not for my broken body I may not have detected this tumor even though I knew it needed attending.
My first time ever chiropractor visit revealed I had 3 ribbed stretched out of place. Right next to this tumor. I had felt the fluid flow into this area and form a soft ball. And I monitored it as it got hard. I ignored. Why? Because I know my body always healed itself. Yet, my body screamed loud, in spite of my high pain tolerance. The chiropractic visits realigned my body. As the rest of my body reset, the tumor site did not. It had a voice of its own that screamed too! My side was on fire. I hurt from much that was self induced. I grew overly tired and often fell asleep during waking moments. My conscientious had been drifting as if I was in a lucid dream state. I was in this world; yet not feeling a part of it. I had lost bits of time; blank spots. This had been going on for a while. I did not connect it to the mass of dead cells inside me. Until I knew better.
Of course I went through a big head time reassessment. And realized this prognosis was about me changing my consciousness; elevating it to the next level. After all I am a person who seeks to expand my mind. A student of the universe, and a co-creator in hand with the Almighty. So why not me? I seek experiences, not always nice, and as a teacher I am compelled to share for the benefit of others who will walk similar paths.
MY cancer news came on the Monday of the last week of Advent. Timely. Fitting. On Good Friday I did a backyard ceremony. I had held onto PSTD for too long that was related to too much past trauma. I made a list of the people, events, and circumstances I allowed to take up rent in my head. I cut the list in strips of items to purge out of my life permanently.
I took a new white mug, the strips of the list, and a lighter outside. Set up a pseudo alter. Burned each aggravation and set it in the mug to smolder to ashes. I chanted a prayer and blessed my past. Forgave myself- and others for our ignorance of being unaware of our follies. I intentionally used the Easter Triduum to journey the path of Jesus. I repented. Gave thanks. And held gratitude in my heart and soul. And loved and thanked all who I believe trespassed me, including the lump that laid inside my bosom. On Easter Sunday I went to the Pacific coast to soak up Ocean Ions. A non-Catholic since 15, I still firmly believe in many of blessings that Christ gifted to us. I acknowledged and found God’s journey and this timing was quite representative of my own walk and circumstance.
This tumor of growth has set me on a cycle of acceptance. Releasing resistance. And trusting the medical profession during this tumultuous time following Covid, and with our world in chaos. I reach back to the innocence of my youth when the world belonged to my desires. Fearless. Adventurous. Faithful all would work out. And it did.
Consciously I decided to be proactive. Learn about what so many women before me have persevered. Understand their breast cancer, so in turn I can help another. It’s about choices. The little ones and the big ones.
It took me awhile to utter the words “Breast cancer” as if it were contagious. And, I have barely uttered the words to this point that: “I HAVE breast cancer”. I will tell you why. I see myself as whole and in a few weeks on the other side of this and healing up from surgery. I do not want to focus or dwell on it. I see myself then telling many friends for the first time, “I HAD Breast Cancer”.
I do not dwell on it. Nor do I focus on it …except only when it hurts.
Or someone brings it up.
The evening I got my cancer news I called my daughter. She had been affected since my first mammogram, deeply. I had not shared even the possibility of it with anyone else.
After I told my daughter the news, our phone conversation was like a drift boat. Vacant, quiet, roaming without oars. At least my head felt that way. As she processed amongst her tears I checked out to an abyss of amnesia. And had few words if any.
In this moment I realized my cancer was not about just me. As my daughter came to terms with the news she asked who else I was going to tell. I had never thought about it. Yet it was an excellent question.
I am not one to grandstand my ailments. My family dysfunctions have been enough for my lifetime. And had loomed over too many conversations. I look forward not back. Not in an escape per se, rather in hope and with faith the future holds more promise.
We both got our wits gathered to have the discussion on who to share my cancer news with. Of course my siblings, and estranged family who would soon learn anyway. I let a few soul sister friends know. Those who had experienced cancer; or with close kin. Those in health care, as they were instrumental in giving me perspective. And my neighbors. They wondered why I became dormant after fixing my property non-stop for 9 months.
Many I did not tell. I plan to eventually when I can say “I HAD cancer”. Which I project to be after the surgery at the end of this month. It is not that I was-am keeping it a secret. I just do not want to dwell on it. Recycle my story. Or, live in the shadow of it. I want to focus on what I CAN do for my upcoming small home. I ordered windows, doors, kitchen cabinets, faucets. When my brother came we put up my horse corral. Mostly, I bossed him. I did install a 4′ gate the other day. It was light weight. Yeah. I shouldn’t have.
For weeks after my mammogram I was processing- and coping with 2 biopsies. One which left me stunned and aghast. The many calls for pre- and post op appointments. The logistics of navigating my life, the insurances, my animal care, having a trust/will made. It was a lot to take in. I really feel for those who are incapacitated and have to lean on others. I had many offer to be my advocate, give rides, and more. I was-am fortunate my lump did not render me useless. I thank the good Lord for that each day.
Eventually most everyone will know about my lump that caused me a bit of inconvenience. I do hope I do not have to undergo weeks of radiation. Thus I am consuming anti-cancer foods to shrink it. We will see. The lump is more on my side at the end of my breast and the surgeon said she had a concern that radiation in that spot could affect my lungs and heart…as in-it could damage them.
I am taking it all one step and day at a time right now. That is the best advice I can give anyone in any crappy situation. Besides all things are temporary and this too shall pass.
It is Unthinkable, but The Sad Fact is Humans Are Killing Humanity.
Greedy Corporate Agendas Are ALLOWED to Operate with NO Repercussions. They KNOW they are Selling Cancer Products that KILL MILLIONS of People along with Animals Our Vegitation, and OUR PLANET.
Stores sell a plethora of cancer products without thought. I try to avoid such stores. Unfortunately the BIG resellers dominant the mom and pop shops who were forced out of business.
Many products have a WARNING in tiny type, which is overshadowed by great graphics. Words that spout ‘All Natural’ and other such misleading truths contradict. Some products only have warnings inside their packaging, seen after you purchase it. Consumers are unindated and numbed by packaging wordage that even if a warning is present it gets overlooked.
Most foods, particularly meat and dairy – animal products are a mine field of potential cancer. Animals and their by products are stuffed with hormones, fillers, and awful nonsense for the resale market. While some animals are treated humanely on the feedlots; the real nightmare occurs during processing. From adding hormones, to water, to phony coloring to make more weight and color enhanced to attract buyers. Do some research. You probably will think again about eating most of what the grocery stores sell.
Now if you are a vegan or vegetarian who eats mostly veggies, fruits and grains…while this is an excellent step for health, unless you grow it yourself you do not know what it is sprayed with- where it came from- the many germ hands that handled it- on the way to your plate. The water inside apples and orange can, often is contaminated.
Being affected by- having cancer does this to a person. When it is YOU that carries a cancer that was caused by our environment (aka other humans), it is a humbling moment. People who use Roundup ignorantly continue to spray to kill weeds. Where do you think that killer goes? Into our ground aquifers poisoning our wells. All for a perfect lawn filled with pesticides that our children play on. It is nonsensical idiocy. Let the damn weeds grow! The bees will comeback. The soil will re-habituate. And the many trees and plants will too. Given time and rest.
Do you read labels? If you cannot understand the words in the ingredients – you should not be consuming it! If it has a warning and says it is KNOWN to cause cancer AVOID it. States like CA put this warning on everything. I bought a padlock made out of metal. CA’s warning that it causes cancer was laughable. This over use and abuse of labeling is insidious and disgusting. It is difficult to know- what to believe- or who to believe.
When I first entered the Hospital campus strung with oncology buildings it really disgusted me. Cancer is BIG business. Much is avoidable if people were to stop being complacent and educate themselves to the facts. One out of 8 woman now have breast cancer. One of 4 men get prostrate cancer. The numbers are phenomenal. While they can pinpoint the type of cancer you have, they cannot come up with a simple blood test to detect cancer. That is pre-historic. For crying out loud, a Covid vaccine was manifested within months to respond to that epidemic. Cancer is no less of one. For as much that is known; we still don’t know what we don’t know. it is unfortunate we are a society built on reactions. Not pro-activity for prevention. Although food cures are known, they are not promoted. So, thank God for YouTube.
Doctors are in the business of eradicating the cancer within you. However, they will admit to knowing cancer producers are in our foods and environment. It is up to us, the private individuals that are the ones to shout out about prevention. Bring light to this insidious darkness. Every one of us can elect where to spend our dollars and what we decide is worthy for consumption. WE have the power. Each of us banded together can kick the cancer producing companies over. Only with proactive choices on all our parts, will big industries crumple as most should.
Big business knows what they are doing. Retailers know what they shouldn’t be selling. I implore Walmart, Safeway, Amazon and the many others to grow a conscious. Be the front-runners to start a trend for the health of our future generations. Take down all cancer-causing agents. I now avoid stores who blatantly display Roundup and other CANCER products. They do not deserve to have my hard-earned money in exchange for giving me cancer.
Please think twice about the lawn chemicals you use. Most all are toxic. To our water aquifers. To our children. To our pets. To our earth. Humans cannot self-regulate this damage even when they know better. Humans rationalize that cancer won’t happen to them. Meanwhile companies are not held accountable and continue marketing caustic products. Greed has no limits.
However, You and I as individuals are powerful. We can elect to NOT buy toxic products. Although I’ve known-seen this greed for years, it took me getting cancer to voice my public opinion here. One by one, each speaking up, we can turn our world around.
Copyright 2022. All rights reserved. No reprints or copying without permission of the author, Patty Ann.
I am 13 days post op from my lumpectomy. From start to finish surgery day was a twilight zone. See, I am a virgin to such things even though I gave birth to 2 children. I went Au natural back then. No epidural. No episiotomy. No drugs. Just a lot of pain and an out of body occurrence on my first.
I spent a couple pampering hours with great nurses fussing over me, kindly. Every one I met religiously took my name, birth date, and asked me what I was there for. It was to make sure they didn’t mix me up with someone else. Imagine my surprise if I woke up to something else missing besides the tumor in my boob. Each person had me sign off another consent form. Who knows. I might have been signing over my bank account.
I was nauseated from anxiety from the get go. My daughter was with me. We chit chatted nervously about much I don’t remember. As the only male that touched me that day, applied my FIRST EVER IV catheter into my vein, the nurse distracted me by placing a patch behind my ear for my dizziness. It actually worked. She said it would for 3 days. And it did.
They wheeled me off to a small room where a PA injected my poor aching breast with a radioactive substance that ran though my lymph nodes. It was an audio map for the surgeon to calculate, of the affected region. Great radiation. By time this whole event is over my body will be a toxic bomb. So much for eating healthy all my years.
My young competent surgeon came to check on me. I introduced her to my daughter. The anesthesiologist came to explain how the anesthesia would be administered. She had retired, but returned to this hospital once a month, because she missed it. Glad she was there for me and instilled the confidence I needed. I vaguely recalled what she told me about the procedure to come on the OR table.
Two plus hours after entering the hospital, I was wheeled to surgery. It was akin to being sucked inside an odd version of a lucid dream-scape. As they wheeled me off, my daughter insistently bent over my gurney. And said with all her heart, “I LOVE YOU.” It was sad, tender, sweet, with a tremor in her voice. I looked at her and could not respond. Had I done so, I would have cried.
The nurse wheeled me down the sterile halls with no windows. A concrete corridor where others looked on at me, as I had others being wheeled through this corridor, just hours earlier. Wondering. What they were in for. We reached the ‘room’ and the nurse did not have a button for an auto door opener. Thought it strange. Told her I could almost feel it with my foot and if she pushed me forward I could kick it open for her. She thought that funny. I meant it. Just trying to be helpful. She told everyone in the OR what I said. They laughed. I was amused that they found what I said funny. Maybe patients don’t talk on the way into surgery. Or perhaps there was a standing joke about surgery room swinging doors that had no auto open. Maybe they weren’t suppose to be automated. Don’t know. I was-am still clueless on this.
My gurney was slid up to the OR table and adjusted for height. And I was instructed to slide on over. It was a skinny table. They adjusted me for comfort. I looked around the room. Then realized there must have been at least 6 ladies attending me in my surgery. The anesthesiologist bent over me. Adjusted my IV line as I was laying on it. I laid there in waiting. Nurses were getting ‘tools’ ready. I looked at the 2 large lights above, not on. I said I was going to go pick up my lottery numbers while I was away. The nurses asked me to get theirs. I said, “Sure if I remember them.”
The anesthesiologist put the breathing mask over my nose. Said she was starting to administer it through my IV. I said, “I feel it. Here is come….” And I was gone to a place so deep, so quiet, so fast. There was no time, nothing, didn’t feel anything, was just gone. It wasn’t like anything I had experienced. No out of body. No consciousness awareness. NOTHING. Just like others told me. And then I heard voices in the recovery room. My eyes were still closed. Someone at the foot of my bed said in reference to obviously me, “She never had surgery before.”
I felt dizzy inside and did not want to open my eyes. But I did. The attending nurse greeted me. Asked how I felt. I said very dizzy. “I have to close my eyes. I feel sick.” She said she would administer something to me. And did. I could feel it. But kept my eyes closed because every time I opened them I got nauseous. I saw a nurse walk to the restroom across the way with a full barf bag. It looked nasty.
A clock was straight across from my bed on the wall. I first opened my eyes about 4:40pm. I had wheeled into surgery @ 2:20. I was told surgery start to finish would be 1 ½ hours. So guess I was sleeping it off for a bit. It took me another 40 minutes before they wheeled me back to the room I started from. My daughter showed up within minutes. As soon as I saw her, I said, “Do you have a pen? I have some numbers for you to write down.” In the darkness of my awakening I had 5 numbers I did not want to forget. Asked whoever granted them to me to hold them until I could record them. The numbers don’t make sense. Yet.
After settling in, a nurse wanted me to get up and walk. Before they took the IV out. Just in case it was needed again. Gladly I did. And walked to the bathroom. And minutes later was being wheel chaired out to the front to get into my daughter’s car. Within that hour I was scarfing down healthy foods and water. And took a walk around the parking lot at the over night house on the hospital campus where we stayed.
My body was in shock for a couple days. The first 2 days I was still wearing off the pain meds implanted in me. The third day the pain hit. I used the pharmacy prescription twice. Made the pain go away, but made me feel like crap. I used Tylenol thereafter. My breast was swollen, lopsided and grotesquely misshapen-ed. It was bruised from my side incision with every color: crimson red, puke yellow, blue, purple all the way back to my back. My arm pit screamed. Three lymph nodes were extracted right in and under.
My lump was gone and my breast was relieved from that hurt. Now the hurt was one of healing. I felt deep compassion for those who had or will undergo a full mastectomy. I am strong and stubborn. But this whipped me. Depleted my energy and sucked my life force gone. I had felt horrid after my biopsies, but this made me realize how very vulnerable I was. How people of the past, without the medicine we now know, absolutely knew their fate was doomed. It’s an odd perception. Knowing you are easy prey. You are unable to defend yourself. Your body could not provide protection to- and for you. Like it once did.
By Friday, I called in to ask about the progress on my healing. I did not know what to expect. What was normal. I was still hurting a lot. Swollen and concerned. The nurse counseled me for a while. From my description she assured me I was on track. And, I learned that it was actually best to steer clear of the Rx meds, so my body would kick in and do its job of healing me. My surgeon called me a half hour later. And reiterated what I was told. That was kind of her. I didn’t expect it, as I knew Friday was her surgery day.
Later in the day my surgeon called again. She said preliminary reports from the hospital lab were: my tumor was all malignant. A round ball 1.9 cm. Stage 2. Not at the beginning. Not at the end. They had known this from the ultrasound the day I had my mammogram 7.5 weeks earlier. She said she removed 3 lymph nodes. 2 were cancer free; one had a scant trace, .5mm of cancer cells. She said their equipment barely discerned it. And, I might be looking at chemotherapy. Gulp. She said all of it would go onto an outside Pathology lab and from there they would get a directive for best course of action for my treatment. Then she asked if I had any questions. A thousand swarmed in my head with no audible words. I told her I really didn’t know what to ask. And anything I was wondering was conjecture at this point before we absolutely knew. She agreed and we bid each other a good weekend ahead. My next appointment is with her, and my oncologist I have not met, is now coming up in 3 days.
Each day I feel less swollen, a bit less nauseous. My arm pit is last to heal. I am doing the gentle arm stretches to aid healing and have a good range of motion. Yesterday I made a pot of split peas soup, with carrots, potatoes and onions. I ate almost the whole thing by this morning. My appetite came back. I am still cautious about eating wholesome and healthy. More-so than ever, even though anti-cancer foods have long been my favorite before I got IT.
This experience lives on with my new-novel-ascended outlook. I now join the many sisters who have gone before me on this path. And, I am able to help provide comfort to another…which oddly on the heels of my surgery day, my sweet next door neighbor is now beginning her journey. She told me I have already given her much to consider: ideas, suggestions, advice. Breast cancer is a sisterhood, and a growing epidemic. No one is exempt. As such, I am happy to pass on my experience to help another.
And to my surgeon, and surgical team, at Samaritan Hospital THANK YOU for your professionalism, competence, and your extreme compassion and kindness on MY day.
Mr. Orbit lived large for such a small kitty. His Norwegian Forest Cat hair puffed huge in the wintertime. Yet, inside that fluff was a small 9 lb body. Our animals pick us. I have no doubt about this. For I never sought to own such a breed. Truth is, I did not know anything about his cat type until a friend told me.
(You may be reading about Mr. Orbit among my Breast Cancer Journey blogs. Fate arranged both our health challenges to intersect at a pivotal point. Thus, his story is shared along with my cancer blogs.)
I first saw him stare at me from the Humane Society adoption web page. When I went to adopt, the staff asked which pet I was inquiring about. I told them. They showed me all the cats leaving him last. As it was revealed, he had a very rough start. Born into a hoarders house, now 8 months, he was part of an extreme mission to rescue 120 cats of assorted ages, along with several dogs. The task was so large the humane society worked it in groups. Orbit was in treatment, a resident there for quite awhile as he had multiple issues.
He had clearly won the staff over. They all came to bid him fair-well after checking me out thoroughly, knowing my passion for pet welfare. I assured them of my commitment to continuing his meds, care and feeding routines. While the staff handled him, I did not at this point. He was placed in my carrier, where our journey began in January of 2018.
I put Orbit in a quiet room to acclimate. This was his safe zone for many months. From the get go Lunar sat at his door, anticipating meeting his new buddy. This poor sweet kitty was truly a mess. It broke my heart to see him walk so crooked, and be completely-utterly scared of the world. His tail was crooked, near the base it had broke, then healed. Perhaps caught in a slamming door, or he was stepped on. Once he found happy, he would wind his tail in circles around this stub as if he might take flight as a helicopter does.
In the safety of my untroubled home, Mr. Orbit learned what it was like to be a cat. Lunar taught him. Right off, nurse Lunar engulfed him in a bear hug and groomed his head and face, and beyond. This was a daily ritual. One Orby was comforted by. Often he would run to Lunar butting him with his head, asking for this reassurance. Lunar always embraced him with his front legs stabilizing Orbit so he could be groomed properly. Orbit finally learned to groom himself; even groomed Lunar from time to time. However, Orbit much preferred Lunar’s touch, so he got more than his fair share of cat lick massages.
As Orbit gained cat confidence he tried to play. Yet his play behavior was immature. Lunar was very playful, but often ran to me as Orbit scratched and bit him. Oh my gosh kids! Finally, I told Lunar in words, emotions and pictures to walk away when Orbit was hurting him. Just don’t engage. And that worked because behaviors teach. They reached a play agreement which was to chase each other through the house. Orbit finally learned how to regulate his claws, because Lunar walked off and that meant no more fun. Fortunately, Orby was receptive and young enough to absorb proper cat ettiquette.
I let Mr. Orbit set his own pace with me, a human. I would get down on the floor and let him explore and sniff me. His courage and confidence grew, because I never trapped him. I let him come to me. After a couple months he would walk up to me. I would pet him a bit before he ran off. His panic was clear: entrapment. He did not want to be held captive. After 4 months he finally came to sit on the sofa by me and Lunar when we were chilling with movie time. Pretty soon he sidled up to my thigh, and then my lap.
After sofa time, Orbit grew bold; walked up to me. I pet him, picked him up, if he panicked, I put him back on the floor. I made it routine. Whenever Orbit advanced, I’d pick him up and put him down. All in 10 seconds. He learned to trust. And love this attention. It took a year and he was completely confident and calm within the confines of my arms and my home. He loved being caressed and held firm. He was secure within my embrace and purred huge. His progress reaffirmed that all any abused animal needs, is one human to trust, and one healthy mate to relearn and connect to the innate behaviors of their species. Plus, a safe environment to do so.
Orbit began to explore my fully enclosed backyard about the 6 month mark. He loved sitting in the raised garden beds while watching me tend the growing veggies. In fact, he was so content in the yard that he would sit or lay for hours under a couple chosen overhanging bushes. I often wondered what he was thinking about as his utter contentment was so serenely unique. I told friends that he was energizing the earth with his sweetness. Or perhaps, like ET phoning home to the heavens above, reporting the nonsensical nature of humans.
About 2 years old, Orbit came out of hiding when visitors arrived. Occasionally, he still had PTSD from his former life and sought me, or my bedroom, for comfort. I always watched for the signs and made sure to rescue and calm his angst. Eventually he fully trusted the world, and became more bold than Lunar with newcomers to our home.
He loved Lily, my horse. Whenever I let her into my backyard, Lily would come to the patio, put her nose down to meet Orbit. And he would roll on his back to show off. The boundary was clear. The patio was Orbit’s space; the grass Lily’s. Many people marveled at witnessing their relationship. I just said they knew each other from another time and place. They had an endearing reverent connection. A communication unto their own.
Mr. Orbit’s origins dictated his lifespan. I knew his life would not be one of longevity. He was strong in spirit yet frail. He did not run much, never climbed a tree or fence. He was aware of his limits. I massaged his legs, back, tail regularly; especially his tummy which had intestinal issues. He was still young when he came to live with us, so regular massages helped strengthen and straighten out his hips and gait. His tail waved more fluidly from the base. His stools became regular with wet cat food. Canned pumpkin was often mixed in for fiber along with probiotics.
I worried about his health once in a while when his delicacies showed up. He was terribly cautious, yet savvy about staying close by. He was happiest when sitting under his select bushes and watching insects crawl through the grass for hours. Orbit was quiet. He didn’t vocalize much unless he wanted to go outside. And then he insisted. He loved when the breeze blew his long fine mane around his neck. He’d sit and sniff the air soaking up fragrances. Lunar showed Orbit around my garden boxes dutifully, as I dug deep to churn the soil. The garden was our happy family spot.
Mr. Orbit’s simple life, made me evaluate the extras in mine. He was unassuming, very affectionate, and his loud purrs told me and Lunar how grateful he was for our touch and togetherness. When he was silly or excited he had a short high pitched chortle. He would trot around chirping his glee.
I built my boys a fully enclosed outdoor cage with a cat door so they could go out safely. So many nights they spent outside star gazing. Mr. Orbit was a fanatic nature lover once he discovered the great outdoors. Lunar followed him around outside to keep track of his whereabouts. Often Orbit was buried inside a bush and I didn’t know where he was. Lunar always found him. Orbit was the epitome of constant zen; a cat Buddha in his own right. I believe he just appreciated life so much after his horrific beginning.
When we moved from the fire regions of southern Oregon north he was the one to help Lunar adapt easily. Lunar, the nurse, was always concerned for Orbit. But our zen master helped Lunar to adjust in the new spots. When we finally landed onto my property and set up RV living, both cats loved it. Tiny spaces to hide. Window views right from the counters and table. My cozy bed at night. What more could a cat want? I built them a pen right off the back as there was an exit door. Orbit continued his zen sitting, as Lunar figured out every angle to climb out just to be on the other side.
I often joked my boys would probably want me to keep ‘their’ RV cat house once mine was built. While we loved living on my land, the winter was dismal. The onslaught of drenching rain non-stop. The RV inside too cold. My horses were self-care. Boarded elsewhere on a farm that I attended daily. It was not an easy place for me, physically. And I worked relentlessly on my property to prep for the build of my small house, and barn in order to return my horses home so we could all be together again.
Along the way I overtaxed my body and threw out my rib cage. I had been hard on myself doing tough work for months. My body said no more. And I found a lump growing near my ruptured ribs.
The universe stopped me dead in my tracks. It was breast cancer. And it was easy to discover because I felt it developing. It hurt, and hurt worse after each biopsy. My boys slept on each side of me every night. They stretched out full length and wedged me in as if to soak up—wick away the burden of my cancer pain from both sides. The tumor was robbing me of my life force. Occasionally, I pondered if my dis-ease stress would be too much for sensitive Orbit. Would this affect him-his health? Could he be sacrificing his life to save mine? I had deep concerns about him and started to have visions I didn’t like. He seemed quite disturbed about my condition which was natural.
Meanwhile nurse Lunar was lavishly giving comforts to both of us. Lunar was grooming Mr. Orbit so much he was hacking up hairballs regularly. I was in pain. So much was happening it made me dizzy. I was prepping and organizing the house contractors. Getting a trust finally in place, just in case. Cancer motivates you to organize your life. The barrage of doctor visits and surgery prep and too much information was overloading me. I was exhausted. The cats had a smorgasbord of foods to chose from. They both ate well. But I noticed Orbit drinking far more water than usual.
Surgery was a day procedure. But it still kicked my ass. I was fatigued and the ongoing pain never seemed to end. I stayed over night at an onsite facility while my neighbor attended my boys. When I returned I stayed confined to the RV with my feline family to heal. Nurse Lunar took up his duty of attending me. Sleeping each night near the surgical site, resting his head on my near arm or placing his paw on my breast. Orbit slept on the counter or table feet away. Something was amiss, he was too quiet. Being in pain prevented my full awareness. But I kept a watchful eye.
That first week post-op, Orbit was drinking water incessantly, peeing constantly. Not a good sign. He picked at food and then ate little the second week. I was recovering and started back to some sense of normalcy as Mr. Orbit declined. 12 days after surgery, I was able to get an appointment for him. All the area vets would only see established patients. That is how it works here. Mr. Obit’s weight had dropped to under 7 lbs. Not good for a 9 pound cat. They took him back to take blood samples for labs and gave him a subcutaneous fluids to keep him hydrated. I spoke at length to the vet about Orbit’s origins and spilled my concerns for his future well being. Without lab results, Orby’s issues were unknown. I knew one thing for certain. He had kidney failure that was advancing fast.
The Vet assured me several times they would call the next day with the results. This was a large 24 hour hospital. You would think they would have an onsite lab. No. They sent labs out. When he was brought back to me he purred and went and hid in his cozy pet crate. My worry kept me awake every night. How could the universe be so damn cruel. It had been one tough, cold winter with many setbacks. My body was a mess for the first time in my life. In 2 days I had an oncology appointment to learn the fate of my treatment plan and learn more about my tumor, which thank the good Lord, I caught at stage 2 of 3.
Each day I was coming a tad more out of the surgery stupor. I was attending phone calls and too much. I called the next day and asked about the labs. At 1pm they were not in. A front desk gal said the vet would call when they got in that day. After 6pm that night I called again. This new gal tells me labs can take up to 10 days. WTF!? I politely told her in 10 days my cat would be probably dead. Why was I not told this truth earlier? She didn’t know what to say.
The next day I had post surgery appointments and met my oncologist. Lots of information and scrutinizing and my savvy oncologist endorsed no chemotherapy. Along with the tumor, the surgeon caught and extracted the scant trace of cancer cells that had not pierced the lymph node yet. Thank YOU JESUS. However, a couple months of radiation is ahead, plus a lifetime of pills. I was grateful, so grateful. I didn’t believe my body would withstand chemo.
I had bought and cooked chicken the day before and Orbit had liked it. I had resumed my massaging him which I had not done during these difficult months. His frame was diminished, frail, but he enjoyed the caressing. It seemed to stimulate his appetite that night. And this next day he ate quite a bit of chicken and broth. I knew it would take far more to get the fat on him needed to survive. He revived enough to explore the new house foundation that was poured 3 days after surgery. I was so tired of healing pain. My body was stressed about much, mostly Orbit. I was beginning to understand my constant visions of walking sadly to the top of my hill carrying something odd.
Mr. Orbit was quiet this evening. Too quiet. Lunar stayed with him to care take. I crashed early and went into a coma sleep. At 2am I was summoned awake abruptly. Orbit’s angel said he was now actively dying. I got up. Orby’s breathing was elevated, more labored. He had fluid droplets from his nose and sneezed away the congestion. I held him and he purred. I told him—gave my permission for him to go back home. I talked to him a long time and held him until my pain set in and I had to go lay down for a tad.
On this day, just 16 days post surgery would be Orbit’s last earth day. I am so grateful he waited for me to help him out of this life and into the next. My intuition told me a call about his labs would come that morning. The vet called about 8:30am with what I already knew. Kidney failure. Urinary tract infection. Whole body infection. Severe Anemia. Too much for his tiny body to endure. I asked the vet for the soonest appointment to put him down. It was at 4pm. I asked if they had a mobile vet as I preferred euthanizing him at home. Less stress. I tried several mobile vets, but everyone was booked up.
While I was on the phone conversing with Dr. P. my whole body flooded with an odd sensation. Like a burst of releasing sickness—buzzed through every cell in my being. I was looking on at Orbit, and still carrying on this conversation without a hitch. Right then Lunar went over to Orbit, hugged him tight and groomed his head and face for about a minute. Then let go. Got down. And never looked at him again. A tinkling sensation rushed through me, knowing that perhaps Orby’s consciousness had just departed to leave his body behind to handle the rest. In this way, Orbit was not fully present on earth anymore to suffer as much, although his body would show this side. I know this separation of consciousness as I had experienced it myself. It had long been a comfort for me to know that our bodies are capable of amazing reliefs during what appears to be awful for the recipient. Nature’s protection.
The day was sunny and warm. I put Orbit out in his pen that he loved. When he curled up in the sunshine he looked like he could sleep himself away. I wished he would. I laid him on my chest and we rested on the zero gravity chair my friend gave me for a property warming gift. Just 2 weeks earlier Lunar and Orbit laid on my lap in the same chair in the carport as it rained outside. I loved having my kids cuddle up on my lap together outside as they often did. I thought this would last forever.
Orbit relayed he wanted to be buried up on the hill with a cherry tree. I had several fruit trees I still had not planted. The only flowering tree left was a plum. I went up the hill and scouted a site near the row of fruit trees I planted long before surgery. I began to dig, but remembered I should not. I saw the builders below on break and asked them to help. They graciously dug a nice round hole, for the first of my family to be buried on my property.
4 o’clock came. The staff were all so nice and empathetic. I waited with Orby at the car until they called us in 20 minutes later. I just sat and petted him which he absorbed. I had sent him love and courage during the day, so he was prepped. If there is one thing everyone can do for their pet, it is be present for them during their transition. Put your grief away for later. Put your agendas, and poor me- or my poor pet thoughts away. Animals perceive death far different that us. To them it is like taking another coat off.
Our pets that have journeyed with us, comforted us, given us unconditional love, deserve to be honored and appreciated and told, during this time especially. Pet transitions are sacred moments. Be present. Attend their comforts and their emotional state. It is vital, so you can make choices for their well being.
From my cancer experience, I learned that it is important to have an advocate. Someone to listen and take note; ask questions when I was on information overload; and who would speak up for my welfare. I was now Orbit’s advocate. It became apparent, I was the unusual client. Calm, clear and direct. Not emotional, although I was sick inside. I had brought plenty of ginger to suck on to quell my angst and calm my stomach. It worked.
A vet tech met us at the front door and took us to room 5. We weighed Orbit, so they could exact the serum amount. In just days he had lost .7 pounds and was a scant 6 lbs now. This ‘head’ tech disappeared and another gal comes in. She says she is taking Orbit away to put the IV line in. I told her NO. Orbit was to stay with me. I didn’t want him stressed. She saw my determination. I was matter of fact. Perhaps their protocol is to minimize clients distress. Don’t know. I assured them I had been down this road many times, and my concern was for Orbit’s welfare.
The gal said okay, said she’d be right back. And back she came with another young tech. They told me they would handle Orbit, I said I was fine. But they insisted, so the young tech took my place, as I stood at the head of the table. The primary tech shaved Orbit’s scant arm. The vein was tiny. I could see she was studying the small vein. She inserted a needle and Orby was good, but she missed. Then she inserted it again and Orbit with little left, fought back. She pursued- and I said please don’t and she backed off. She then shaved the other leg. And went to insert the needle and Orbit was upset and distressed and resisted, but could not. He was too weak. I immediately told her calmly, directly to STOP. I told her I didn’t want him stressed during his transition time. Or me–At ALL. He didn’t deserve this in his final moments. To go get something oral, or other to relax him. She listened as I was adamant, firm, and resolute. I was Mr. Orbit’s advocate. She said she would see what would be suggested. And they both left.
I rubbed Orby’s ears and made Fibonacci swirls in his fur to calm him and he relaxed. I stuffed the last of my ginger into my mouth to calm me. Time again passed. Orbit was content in my hands. The door opens and Dr. P walks in. She seemed to be in a trance. She stared oddly at me, as if confused. I said, “Hello. Do you remember me?” Bewildered she said, “I am in the wrong room. I have no idea why I came in here.” I silently smiled. This was divine intervention working. And Yes, she said she knew who I was. She fixated on Orbit, and me soothing him. Finally, she relayed she was seeing that Orbit and I were unified. We had complete agreement, as we were both at ease, peace filled. I acknowledged her observation, and said yes, we are one. That I was deeply connected to him, and all animals. I had put a card in my pocket earlier, and handed it to her, and said she might enjoy my website.
I then told her that I was upset at the tech’s attempts to put the IV into Orbit. I told her what happened. I said I am not blaming the tech, his veins are dehydrated, but we needed an experienced practitioner. I relayed that I told the tech to find another option. Dr. P understood completely. She told me she agreed with my choices. I thanked her for supporting us, as she turned around and left the room in thought.
I returned to comforting Orbit. Inordinate time passed between this swinging door of revolving techs. It was disconcerting that a 10 minute job now turned into an hour. I suppose this time also gave me—both of us time to settle. I was not use to this environment of commotion. All my previous pet passings had been fully attended by one qualified Vet, start to finish; completed within reason. This was a big facility, but I made an appointment time that should have been respectfully honored. Maybe it was the way they did things. Their method was so not in my comfort range. But I was grateful to have their help in helping Orby to heaven. Awkward as it had gone thus far. I did not want Orbit to die on his own, as surely he would have panicked drowning in the fluids building in his lungs.
The door opened another 15 minutes later. I believe Dr. P gave directives for a NEW tech who walked in with a syringe. She said it was a sedative that would completely knock Orbit out and for me to be prepared. It was to go in his back end. Immediately Orbit stood up and actually arched his back-end up to meet the shot. He was so ready. She was rather surprised. And injected him. She said it would take about 10 minutes and he started to relax into my supporting arms. Within a minute he succumbed. I was relieved he was finally out of pain and minutes from freedom.
I bent over to see his open eyes comatose. He was not in pain, my spirit guide told me. I continued to just stroke his beautiful bright orange coat. And thank him for gracing my life for as long as he did. I relaxed with him and soon another new tech came in and inserted the new IV right into place. I sat down as they did it. The stone floor was hard, exhaustion, no sleep, the surgery pain, caught up to me. I had been standing in that room over an hour. Ridiculously unacceptable really. They left.
I got up and softly stroked Orbit again. He knew I was there. He had nothing left in him but his soul. Then a man vet came in and said he would inject another serum for relaxing, and the next would stop his heart. The vets only job was simply administering a narcotic, as he held the license to do so. Orbit’s heart stopped immediately. He left me in the room and said he’d return. Dear Lord. Too many revolving doors; probably 11 total that day. I just wanted to escape with Orbit. My spirit guide told me his soul would not leave his body until we got back home.
Next the original vet tech from the first day came in with a white coffin box. They had taped a fresh flower on top. That was sweet. She took the IV catheter out. The apparatus was larger than his leg. All this seemed to much for what could have been done with a needle injection. We took off his collar and she placed him in the box. I gathered his collar, leash and towel I had brought in with him. She handed me the box and over an hour and a half later we walked out the front door with the staff sending their condolences along the way. Their compassion and caring was appreciated, but the chaos too much.
I walked to my car as arriving clients looked on. I was stoic like Mr. Orbit. I placed the coffin box in the passenger seat next to me and opened the lid. He was not dead to me because his soul was still within his body. I could see him breathing; the doubling of his body as I have seen-perceived this in my others, many times before. I drove out of the parking lot down the highway and bawled like a baby while talking to Mr. Orbit. It was a half hour drive home. By time I got there I had no cry left.
Lunar had not come back to the RV by time I left earlier. It was the first time ever I left him out. He had groomed his friend goodbye just 9 hours earlier. Now Lunar came out of the trees into the one lane road as I drove up. And followed me carrying Orby in his coffin box into the RV. I sat next to him and lifted his warm limp body out of his box. I put him on my chest, leaned back and held him. Exhausted, I closed my eyes. I don’t know how much time passed. I did not feel his essence slip out. I was told his soul transitioned. I opened my eyes and looked at Orbit now truly gone. His whole demeanor was one of a dead carcass. I put him back into his box. Left the top open to see if Lunar want one last look. He did. He put his head inside the box briefly then walked away. I told Lunar he could come up the hill with us. But he did not.
I now knew what I was carrying in the visions I had seen from the last weeks. I trekked through the pasture that was chest high. I put the box down and realized it would not fit in the round grave hole. I liked the box. It protected Orby’s body from getting dirty. All of it would decompose except his pink heart metal tag with both our names on it, and my phone number. I picked up the shovel I had left there, and chopped into the dirt sidewalls to square it up. Shouldn’t have with my tender stitches, but I did. I used my right hand and foot to dig it out. It took awhile, but I finally got the box to fit right. And then I placed the root ball of the plum tree right next to the box and filled Orbits resting spot with dirt.
I sat on the bank for awhile. Evening was creeping in. I gazed upon the serenity view my property gifted me. “Vista Bonita” was a perfect place for Orbit to rest. I then looked at another tree close by Orbit’s grave. It was a cheery tree I had planted over 2 months ago. Orbit got his wish of being by a cherry tree after all.
Lunar met me at the bottom of the hill and we went inside to eat some sort of dinner. Lunar had now lost 3 best buddies in his 8 years. His brother Sox. Our beloved Toby. And now Mr. Orbit. Lunar said he would miss Orbit, but he too was relieved. I think Lunar needs a break from playing nurse kitty. We both need to enjoy life for awhile. We are alone once again. Orbit’s vacancy creates a huge hole. It is only time that heals this. We will be fine.
The last 2 years had been wicked really. Physically-mentally-emotionally-spiritually. I held much gratitude in my heart, but have been challenged with much for too long. My spirit guides have relayed the Equinox, June 21 will begin anew for me. A switch. Nicer weather; my house, barn, and fencing getting done fast. Plus the summer will bring fun… whatever that means because I cannot imagine it at this point.
Time will heal my aches for missing Mr. Orbit. My guides tell me he is home with them now. That he absolutely and dearly LOVED-APPRECIATED the life he lived with Lunar and I. We so cherished him. I know we will see him sitting in his brilliant orange coat alongside Lunar on my new house deck one day soon. This was a vision given to me over a week ago. That is why I thought there was hope. I never know when these visions will be complete until it is. I do have inklings, but have too many to keep track of. So now I don’t.
I cannot count all the blessings Mr. Orbit bestowed. He was a quiet soul with a huge heart. Mr. Orbit’s name came from his helicopter tail, but also it means what goes around comes around. He was the reincarnation of my Bella kitty lost in 2014. All of my animals have returned to me two, or more times now. As is typical on the heels of Orby’s demise, the vision of our next family member is on it’s way. I really cannot deal with putting another pet down. It is just so difficult to love so deep, and then lose my family. But, I also know a life without their love is no life for me. It sucks to be clairvoyant. However, in my darkest of times it has shimmered hope by giving me glimpses, of a happier future ahead. And, this is what keeps me in this game we call life.
Copyright 2022. All rights reserved. No reprints or copying without permission of the author, Patty Ann.
I long had a notion, the cancer experience would cross paths with me one day.
I even knew this from a very young age.
I also knew it was not a death sentence. It would be a blink of time that I had to endure. See, I came here to soak up every human experience. Some very tough. Why? To evolve my consciousness. To lend perspective. And help others on their path. But, I am saturated with the tough stuff now. And would prefer my future growth come from happy spots.
I was born awake, with my clairvoyance intact. Took it for granted. Thought everyone had the same abilities. Until 3rd grade. Then I realized most all people were unaware of being unaware.
I was not allowed to close the door on the visions, the knowings, the whispers. I tried. But for not. So I grew with it. Studied it. Read about it. Silently practiced it. I pretty much kept it to myself because of my bipolar heritage.
Years ago, I took a medical intuition workshop. A practitioner told me I was a FRONT RUNNER. I asked what he meant. He said it is one who leads their pack. A wolf pack. That my lead was so far out in front I did not even know it.
I can share so many amazing consciousness connections. But I will stick to how my clairvoyance helped with my cancer journey. It’s important to note, I live aligned. Meaning my body-mind-spirit is connected to my soul self… pretty much all the time. (Except, when someone or thing upsets me.) This divinity allows me to communicate easily with other dimensions… my spirit guides, angels, cosmic entities and transitioned people and animals. As well, I can easily tap into the essence of the earth and nature.
Sometimes I am strongly called to challenges that don’t appear to make earthly sense. Such as buying my property with a heavenly view. I even told others that buying the property didn’t make any sense because it was a fixer project to the likes I had never encountered. And I have done a few. But IT called me badly. I didn’t understand it at the time. But, now I see my property may well have saved my life.
I don’t dwell on my health, however, I was not kind to my body this last year. I pushed my physical strengths beyond limits with my property construction, set up and prep to build a new home. And because of my determination my left side crippled. My ribs got dislocated. Next to it I felt a growing lump. Figured I ripped a tendon. Told several I probably was going to have surgery in June. So I got a referral to see a chiropractor…and a mammogram, just in case. Then found through biopsies I had a malignant tumor.
The whispers and signs started 7 months earlier. The breast cancer commercials blared louder than anything else on the radio for months prior to knowing. They annoyed me actually. In conversation, people talked about their cancer. It grew to be prevalent. A whisper each time said, Don’t Think It Can’t Happen to YOU.
My mother’s spirit always shows up when there was a family disquiet. With deep compassion and concern she hovers at my right shoulder. Mom does not vocalize words. I never know what her visits are about, but the cause to her appearances are typically revealed within short order.
My late brother and I had a pact. That whoever got to the other side first would reach back and support the other if needed. We were close. I miss him here on earth a lot. After his exit in 2010 we talked for 5 years. One day he said he had stuff on his side to do. That I didn’t need him–his input anymore. But, if I did he would come back and counsel me. I understood, but asked him why—what was he doing? He said he was working with energy. The stuff we use to talk about. That I would really like it. But don’t rush to get there, as I had an agenda to accomplish here. I got it and let him go.
I had not been to the doctor for a few years. I appreciated my perfect health. But this last year I faltered. A whiplash that made my head hurt. Thought I had a concussion. A severed fingernail had to be stitched back. The things that got me to get doctored. After these short episodes, my brother Bob arrived. He told me: “Pat, you are not going to like this next event. AT ALL.” (He called me Pat; I called him Bob. Short pet names) I asked what was it? But Bob said, “You’ll see.” I heeded his vibrational tone because I knew he knew. And I felt the way he transmitted the message, it was not good.
Bob, visited during my hurting time. Asked how I was doing. Told him I knew my body would heal. It always had. Bob shook his head at me. I was resisting. My brother came back and urged me to care take myself better. He was frustrated because I was not my normal proactive self. The dead cells in my body, twisted my normally logical perception. My consciousness was drifting away too much. The tiny tumor was a vampire. Sucked my energy dry.
I talked to my siblings. The ones still living. They advised: see a chiropractor. I listened. And did as my body would not recover without help. And, got the mammogram too.
I was not afraid of the cancer, or of dying. I was afraid of the procedures as I had never had anything happen to my body that required surgery, anesthesia, biopsies, the rest. I was, however, resistant. My Bob came to me one night with a stern message. He said in his blunt, frank fashion: Pat it comes down to this: YOU HAVE THE CHOICE. TO LIVE, OR NOT. YOU CHOOSE. Just treat this like one of your projects and you’ll get through it.
“But I don’t want IT to hurt,” I said. Ironically I had hurt for the last 7 months. Bob, said, “The correction won’t hurt as much as letting it go. Get on IT.” I knew truth when I heard it. Then Bob said, “Along this journey you are going to have MANY choices. MANY. Listen to us, we can help guide you. Listen to your soul self.” I thought this would be easy- and clear cut. Not so.
Not long after, one of my spirit guide(s) said they didn’t want me on their side JUST YET. I was valued more on earth where I had come to help animal awareness to blossom. YES. I had made this pact long ago.
On the mammogram day discovery, Dr. G had said I would be having metal markers put in my body during the biopsy. I didn’t like the idea of metal in my body at all. They didn’t educate me enough to understand. I was ignorant. So, I went to the internet to find these metal clips had caused lawsuits. Some women got infected. It was routine, at one time, to never tell any surgery patient they had these markers implanted in them…until lawsuits made doctors confess and patients had to give permission. I decided I was not going to have the metal marker. Period.
Biopsy day number one. Never do a procedure at the end of the day. My appointment was at 2:00pm. Finally got in the ultrasound room 40 minutes late. The lab tech was arguing with her computer. She was on the phone with computer techs. 30 minutes later it was resolved. Things were stirred up, and behind.
Dr. H comes in, introduces herself. She was in git-er-done mode. Said the biopsy used the ultrasound machine so they could see where to pull the needle samples. There would be 4 samples taken on both the cyst and nearby lymph node. After each, a marker would be inserted. She was spouting off stuff so fast. I made some silly comment because I was overwhelmed. She got offended. A bit of a tiff followed. I told her she was throwing a lot my way, and I had not been informed about much.
Then I told her I did not want the metal markers. To which Dr. H went on a rampage of sorts. She said I had cancer… oh, she tripped a boundary… not suppose to say that until they know for certain. She was animated and assertive. Said she KNEW I had cancer.
Then she says if I don’t accept the marker, and they get the biopsy results saying it IS cancer; at surgery the surgeon would just lop both breasts off because they didn’t know where the tumor was. End of story. I was almost laughing, thinking: They can’t do that without MY consent. She says I had 4 minutes to decide because she was going to start now, numb me, do the needle pulls, and I had to tell her prior.
I told her she was asking me to make a decision I do not have any information about. Nobody educated me about biopsies et AL. Plus. It took me 8 months just to decide which new car I wanted… and this body was my main vehicle!
She harped fear at me. That did not work. I wanted logical reasons. Meanwhile my brother entered my sphere on my right temporal side was shaking his head NO, wildly. On my left, my spirit guide was shaking her head NO too. The room was full of opinions and I had no clarity. My head was swirling.
I said, “Look, I do not want metal in me.” Then Dr. H says she can put a carbon one in me. Maybe they were more expensive. Don’t know. But carbon made more sense to me. We are made of carbon.
She said I had 4 minutes to decide as I got on the ultrasound table. Bob and my guide wouldn’t shut up. I thought they were agreeing—telling me don’t do it. I was laying there, my mind went blank; everyone quieted. I went within myself. Then I told the Dr. to put the carbon markers in as she started the procedure. Everyone shut up in my head and we began the procedure which didn’t end well.
The Dr. did not numb me completely. And I had to endure those damn last 3- 18 gauge needles ripping through my tissues to extract the cells below. I suffered. And gave the Dr. and tech a surprise when after they sat me up, I slumped back and passed out. My body shook violently. I let it. My boob hurt horrendously. What a nightmare. With the clunky zero compassion etiquette that followed.
Did my resistance cause this to happen? Doubtful. Maybe. Doesn’t matter now. But it was an event we both co-created. AND. It was a wake up call for me to quell this resistance I tend to carry. Also, it was a big wake up call to Dr. H to take more consideration and time for each patient regardless of her hurried agendas.
The second biopsy was to be with another Dr. because I insisted. I was in the bio consult room waiting to go in when I was told there was a last minute switch, back to Dr. H. I panicked noticeably. The tech got me water, and said I could switch to a later time with another Dr.
I stopped. Got a grip. And, aligned myself thoughtfully. Said Dr. H was fine. Let’s do it. When Dr. H came in, she immediately, profusely apologized for the prior week. Several times. I told her I knew she was a good Dr. And thanked her for pushing me to make a decision that was correct. We worked it out and the 2nd biopsy went great. Most times it’s better to hug your dragon, rather than slay it.
My brother and spirit guide(s) did not interfere. From there I trusted the surgery process because everyone was very compassionate, and competent. Bob, my mother, my guides stood close by with care.
I got it. Resistance would only make matters worse. In fact, resistance could kill me. Resistance is natural when being introduced to anything new. It’s a basic human survival skill. We all have it. Often, our pain comes from the resistance to what is going to- or has happened. The paradox here: I always picked paths of great resistance just to conquer the puzzle. I liked challenge. Just NOT this ONE.
I use to fear my clairvoyance for what came to pass. But, as I evolved it became evident life continues beyond our body- and this physical 3rd dimension. This is one passage where my clairvoyance was a benefit and helped guide my way. I never had doubts for my future welfare. Because I saw myself riding my horses, living in my house now being built, and festive lights hanging off my front deck during the holidays.
When I knew of the tumor, I walked up my hill and sat among my old growth fir and oak trees. Many spirits were present. They began to show me so many amazing experiences that were waiting ahead. PLEASANT ONES ONLY. It was overwhelming and I stopped absorbing, and threw the visions away. I do not want to know. Instead, I yearn for the magic of surprises.
On the way down the hill, I was shown my black tumor in a glow of white light. With every careful step down, the tumor faded. And then disappeared. Right then a large hawk swept low in the tree canopy and purposely perched on a branch right above me. I stopped and stared. Wondered why it was so bold to sit in the dark, of my descending path. It stared back. It’s message was clear that I would prevail. And then the hawk reaffirmed my future. He took flight. Out, up on a breeze. The wing span magnificent as it disappeared in the distance of the bright blue sky. I was at peace with what was to come.
The hawk presenting himself was a sign sent from the divine. To acknowledge that my journey was engineered with another obstacle that I would successfully navigate. It was built with intent, for a powerful expansion of my consciousness. A significant spiritual symbol, the hawk echoed my soul sojourn would be redirected. And, I too, would ascend to heavenly heights.
Copyright 2022. All rights reserved. No reprints or copying without permission of the author, Patty Ann.
The one thing
I was told
entering this
journey was:
Every person’s
breast cancer
experience is
different.
And now I know.
Every breast cancer patient is unique. Even though cancer is prolific there are a variety of types and ways to treat it. Cancer is not just cancer. Once connected, it becomes a part of YOU. Your lifestyle. And influences your perspective. Cancer educates and elevates your awareness. If you allow it.
I consider myself fortunate. I was body aware of my lump growing. Felt the area fill with fluid, then grow firm to hard. It was detected along the way as I was overusing my body during my property development. And injured 3 ribs right next to the lump. Erroneously I thought I tore a muscle or tendon since all of this was in the same location.
My mammogram showed the black small mass. The immediate ultrasound measured it at 1.9cm. About the size of a marble. Biopsy results revealed the tumor was malignant. It was at stage 2 out of 3. Not at the beginning and not at the end. From what the ultrasound showed, they believed the nearby lymph node was clear.
The tumor grew, fueled by estrogen deposits in a milk duct. It had been brewing a very long time. They called it slow growing. I tend to believe my body abuse revealed it to be obvious. At the very least it inflamed the area for me to take note.
While tests can tell about the features of cancer, where and how it came to become cancer is unknown. My lifestyle was-is healthy. I am vegetarian. Don’t smoke or drink. I eat anti oxidant foods which are cancer killing agents. I have always been a fruit and veggie lover, so this aspect might have retarded the growth of my tumor.
The day I met my surgeon we talked about my lifestyle. I told her. Of eating healthy, physically fit, no family cancer. She stated matter of fact that she is hearing this too often. She said environment conditions and stress are often the cause. I told her that I had lived in southern Oregon for 9 years. And the last 6 summers were smoke filled, many with area fires near my home. That the fires and then the smell of smoke set me off in panic mode. The adrenaline gave me anxiety with too many sleepless nights.
My savvy surgeon listened sharply. Then she said that adrenaline tends to manifest itself in our body. I said it gave me hives. She then said that adrenaline can produce estrogen as a side effect. And, my tumor was estrogen driven. She stated there was no way to know exactly, but stated that cancer can be caused by surrounding stressors. This hit me as the truth: the origin of my cancer. Made to much sense. Slow growing because it was summers only. A build up over time.
Once the tumor was removed and went onto pathology, along with 3 lymph nodes more info was gathered. Just before I went into surgery my breast was injected with a radioactive substance. It spread through all the lymph nodes. It was to create an auditory map of my breast lymph nodes. The surgeon would listen though a gieger-counter to detect any other cancer in the lymph nodes. This precaution was done because mammograms and ultrasounds can not pick up traces.
And low and behold in the lymph node that they thought was clear, was not. It held a very scant group of cancer cells measuring .5mm!
Once a full pathology report came back with my kind of cancer, there were statistics attached. I sat and absorbed the information with my oncologist. The chart showed radiation versus chemo statistics and outcomes. My score intersected both lines equally. Meaning, chemo was negotiable; could go either way. My oncologist did not recommend chemo, because the .5mm cells had not pierced the lymph node yet. I was so GRATEFUL. I really did not think I could handle the stress of chemo. Talk about being under the wire!
I will have some tests: a bone density, an echo-cardiogram, plus lymphedema education. Also, a 2-hour get ready for radiation to discuss this treatment plan. That is in 2 weeks. I hope by then my breast scar tissue will heal along with my armpit, where the lymph nodes were taken. While radiation is considered less intrusive than chemo, it is poison shot at my body to kill off any roaming cancer cells. Radiation can cause heart and lung deterioration along with other side effects. It’s like most prescriptions. While there is a benefit, the long term consequences are typically not good if there is prolonged use.
So this is my kind of cancer to date. It will be ongoing. Since my tumor was estrogen based, I have to take estrogen suppression pills for years. Those will cause side effects. A reminder every day of my cancer that might return. But I think not. Why? Because I am stepping away from stresses that can trigger my adrenaline. I am also quite aware of the many hazards we now must live alongside in our daily life. And, I have moved from the fire region which mostly likely ignited my tumor.
Copyright 2022. All rights reserved. No reprints or copying without permission of the author, Patty Ann.
