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Every Day is a Gift: A Lesson for Self Love

“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.

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The “You Have Cancer” News

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”.

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Who Gets Told My Cancer News?

Having cancer is
an educational
experience.

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.

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Cancer is BiG Business

Cancer it is Avoidable.

And, 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.


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Surgery Day for a Virgin

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.

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Remembering Mr. Orbit

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. His transition coincided with my own transformation. Thus, his story is shared amongst 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 etiquette.

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.

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Cancer & My Clairvoyance

I am clairvoyant.
But I am also human.

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.

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My Kind of Cancer

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.

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Radiation Consequences?

I have some misgivings about starting my radiation treatment this week. Admittedly, I am a tad scared. Radiation has been used for eons to eradicate cancer. Even before they knew how it really worked.

I am now 9 weeks post surgery, which oddly feels forever ago. My under arm and breast scars are still tender, although most all the scar tissue seems to have dissolved. Slowly, my skin is retraining its sense of feeling. Dutifully, my left arms are stretched daily to keep the lymph nodes flowing fluid. This is not hard, as I’ve resumed my active pace of using my body physically again. Albeit, a few modifications for caution and self preservation sake. In fact, my once huge energy is flowing again. So much so my friends laugh. Because it comes out in my prolific stories without a breath taken inbetween the words that spew.

It has been nice this long break after surgery. Made me forget I am/was/had cancer. That I was a cancer patient. Except for the pre-testing. An Echocardiogram. A bone density test. A 2-hour consult with the radiation oncologist doctor. And a simulation to acclimate me to the month long procedure of sweeping my body of any residual dead cancer cells that could be roaming around.

Most folks dismiss the radiation as an extra. However, I now do not. It was another education; one more chapter in my cancer blog. The procedure is pretty high tech now. They can exact the beam with their knowledge and instruments. Yet. There are risks to other organs. Namely my heart and lungs. Risks that may show up down the road. There is a balancing act of risks considered. All my data suggested that my cancer has a 30% re-occurrence rate down the road without radiation. Mostly because that scant trance of dead cells had escaped my tumor.

I will admit the statistics creep me out. The man oncologist, who is young, bright, and compassionate, spoke his truth. I swear, all these doctors look like my kids now. But they are brilliant and I trust their educated judgments. I asked him point blank questions. He answered by statistics. Suggested highly to do the radiation. To my question, he answered some opt out do to the risks to other organs. I understood why. The risks vs. the benefits. I signed the consent. Figured the procedure was akin to sweeping out the cobwebs that may have a few roamers left behind.

Of course there are side effects. Fatigue will come at some point. Skin rash. A smaller cup size will result… aka a perkier boob because the radiation builds scar tissue and tightens up the skin. Thought to ask if they might tighten up the other side, as he said my breasts would be uneven because of radiation. But. I kept my sarcastic mouth shut. It makes me nervous to alter my body for the sake of statistics.

The simulation along with the CT scan was ‘training’ for radiation. Along with more x-rays to locate my heart, and lungs. Felt like I was in a sci-fi lab. I breathed through a tube that was connected to a pair of glasses where I saw their computer screen. I saw my breaths. Up-down. Up-down. Breathe normal they said. Laughable. Normal is… I do not breathe through my mouth holding a tube at all. Plus laying in the ‘position’ to be radar-ed is far from normal. Oh. And not everyone is privileged to breathe and hold thy breath as I am. They told me this breathing technique is used on those of us that had our tumors in our left breast. This technique is used to move my breast away from my chest organs. Thus when radiation is shot it is away from my heart and lungs.

I was to breathe normal. Then deeply to get my breathe up between the white lines, where the green line was, and hold. For 30 seconds. This was when the radiation turns on. The numbers count down. When the lines disappeared I again breathe normal. Radiation is all connected to my breath. I break the cycle. The machine cuts off. Smart machine. I found it like a video game of sorts. And once in the no zone of time nor space it was easy to get lost. See this is a meditation practice I have done. So turns out, my ritual is good for radiation. That is, when I officially I start this week. They needed another week to study my scans, and figure out where to shoot the beam to sweep out the possible dead cell cobwebs.

Oh, yeah – I now boast 3 permanent tattoos! One needle point in black was placed on the outside of each breast. And one smack in the middle between them on my chest. That is so they can know the target to shoot each time. The appointments are 20-30 minutes long, start to finish. Most all is setting up for the exact position, replicating it the same each time. Radiation is supposed to be only a minute. 3 weeks, everyday will be a full left breast shoot along with it extending into my lymph node armpit. The final week is called a boost. Just shooting my cancer spot on my boob. Golly. From what I saw in prior pictures, the cancer and all the healthy tissue around it was extracted. What more can be done? As they kill it good, I will meditate white light around my heart and lungs and other organs to preserve and protect them. And pray for good measure.

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My Intention for Radiation

I am purposeful with most everything I do in my life. As such, I decided to make use of my radiation time and pay it forward. I have a number of family and friends with health issues. Therefore, every day I am getting radiation therapy, I focus, share, and send this huge healing light onto another who might use it too.

I have sent it to friends in need. One has a hip surgery coming up. Another has left over injuries from an auto accident. Another had oral surgery. And of course, I save some out for my own healing.

One morning my daughter texted me Cleo was failing fast. Cleo, was found in their shed a few days earlier barely hanging onto life. Cleo was a scant 3/4 pound kitten! About 5 weeks old, dehydrated, malnourished and lucky to found by my son-in-law. While Cleo’s first days were productive in helping her heal; her body was overwhelmed with much. And she faltered. My daughter’s text came just as I was going into radiation. So I re-focused my intention for this time to be solely for Cleo. She went to the vet again that day. Only time would reveal whether Cleo was called back to heaven- or stay on earth. She had a huge aura and came from so much adversity to be for not. That same night, I awakened to know a transition had happened. I looked out at the full moon and had a sense of peace knowing all would be well for our orphan. The next morning my daughter texted that Cleo woke up mid-night and scarfed down her food and for the first time, drank water. Now whether my focused energy flow helped heal Cleo, or she made up her mind to stay on earth is hard to tell. But, the way I look at it is my healing energy is intentionally sent as a prayer to another to use at will.

Intentional living is gaining ground as we all become more aware. While radiation has side effects I do not enjoy, It is temporary. I have bouts of nausea, and dizziness, after treatment. My breast is tight with more scar tissue. I have moments of fatigue. My appetite has increased because the energy flowing through my body is triggering a need for more nutrients. At first I felt the sensation of the beam going in my body. A few times I felt it enter like a sharp needle. They said I would not feel it at all. Well, not true. At least for me. My body is tuned in so I feel EVERYTHING. Thus, I have adjusted myself to cope. And why, intention and focus are key for me.

I do not dwell on the treatment side effects. Instead, I focus on my ongoing property projects as my house is being built. Painting. Clean up. Coordinating sub contractors. And, my horses are now finally home, so there is daily care. It is nice to have them back and they love my attention.

My job of radiation has 11 treatments out of 20 left. Doable. I write on my calendar my intention for each visit. As I drive the 45 minutes to the clinic I begin to meditate on my intention for this time of day. When I lay on the table in the position to receive, I am prepared to make use of that one minute beam. I have to hold my breath for several 20-30 second radiations. When I am focused the time does not exist. The intention is stronger. I have used this technique in my meditations. Breathe deep, or exhale. Hold. Explore this vast time and space. Time is irrelevant. As there is only the NOW.

The NOW focal point brings a renewal. While breath feeds our body; keeps it living; it also serves as a regulator for life. We do not need breath for our consciousness to live on. Breath slowed down brings pause. This is good to reset your mind, body and spirit. Practiced daily and you can clear out a whole lot of cobwebs in your psyche.

BTW… To my wonderful oncology radiation team at Samaritan YOU ALL ROCK! Your daily kindness, and positivity are very welcome. My sincere gratitude to EACH ONE of YOU.