The Beginning of My Summer And The Rest Of My Life

Memorial Day, 2016.

The 3rd Memorial Day Holiday in a row that I have been in bandages from surgery. The 3rd holiday in a row, that I feel optimism for a healthy, healing summer. But this time; I feel different. I feel like some type of corner has been rounded or an obstacle has been removed. I feel lighter, happier and hopeful. Very hopeful.

This surgery has been different from the last two in many ways, mainly, because I am a lot different than I was last year and the year before. Over the past three years, I have undergone major shifts in my thinking and approach to situations. I have focused so hard on learning to try to take things not so seriously, even when faced with very serious challenges. I began the gut wrenching process of going back through my life and working through a lot of unfinished emotional business. I have slowly begun to repair the damage that has been caused to me and by me. I have fought to grasp hold of the one thing that eluded me all of my life: peace.

Driving to Yale for this last surgery, I was very afraid. Even more afraid than when I faced emergency open heart surgery and had Fr. Leary anointing me before going to the O.R. The fear of this surgery stirring up the MRSA that almost killed me last fall, was paralyzing. In the room preparing to go to the operating table, I began just holding and touching my rosary until I was placed on the table and the mask was put over my face to put me to sleep. I was calm.

And that's how I woke up.
Calm.
Normally, when I am awakened from anesthesia, I am confused and afraid and agitated. This time, I still I woke up to pain, but I was peaceful and rather relaxed. There was no chaos, nothing unforeseen had come up, and the surgery went better than planned. I slept well through that first night. Tessa and Ken were at my bedside early the next morning and had everything set up for me. I had wonderful meditation music playing softly by my bedside, lavender, and other healing oils were being diffused in my room. The light was soft from a lamp brought from home. That wonderful atmosphere was created and maintained for the next several days. Of course, the nurses and doctors had to come in and out, but I had a sign placed on my door for no other interruptions. I asked for visitors to wait until I got home and my phone was used only to communicate with my family.  I just didn't want to disturb the peace that had I had been blessed with.

I came home from the hospital early (!), and was able to be present for Torrie's Senior Prom pictures and to help Tessa with her move back to Villanova for work. Today, I can say that I am in less pain that I have been in since more than three years ago. Amazing. Just waiting out some time to make sure that infection doesn't rear its' head... I'm almost there.

Before surgery, my oncologist informed me that she had been offered an opportunity at the University of Pennsylvania and that my care was being transferred to a new doctor. I will be meeting her in a couple of weeks. I want to have a discussion with her before I start my treatments back up. My cancer status has not changed in a few years. There has been no new growth, even when I was off the chemo for six months last fall. Is it possible for a break? Could I actually step away from Yale and treatments and injections and scans and tests, etc. for the summer? Could I have a 'normal' summer? Next month, my blog title will change to Eighteen Years of Pink. That is a LONG time to be running this race...I want to rest a while.

Tessa has moved to PA to work for the summer before her senior year of college; Torrie graduates from high school in just a few days. I never, ever, expected to live this long.
Ever.
And here I sit, feeling better than I have in a very long time, entertaining the idea of a respite from cancer and it's treatments.

I also sit here with ideas dancing around in my head about starting my Mindfulness and Matters studio, actually allowing myself to dream and plan for the future.
I dream of growing old...
maybe it's not just a dream.

Namaste,
Kim

Pre-Op Notes For Kim

I set the alarm for 5:15 a.m this morning.. I'll have to go upstairs and shut it off in a couple of hours. been up since 2:00 a.m.. wide-eyed and ready to go. I don't even care that I only got 2 1/2 hours of sleep last night; I've got a really long nap coming up in just a few hours.

There is nothing left to do. No pre-planning, no pre-surgery tests; it's time.

From the time I found the hernia, in February, I have been on a mission to get as healthy as possible; immune system wise, that is. Protein shakes with spinach, banana and almond milk. Three weeks ago, I was the grateful recipient of Healing Meals Project. I was delivered meals on Sunday to last through the week,for several weeks, especially prepared for me. This project is so cool; they use the Pasta Company restaurant in Avon on Saturday nights after it closes, to preare meals for those with a compromised immune system due to chemo etc. In my case, they wanted to fire up my almost non-existent immune system for surgery to ward off the MRSA that is laying in wait in my body. But the neatest part about this project is that the meals are all prepared by middle and high school students with the supervision of a chef and other adults. The meals are all organic, local organic vegetables, gluten free and protein rich. Lots of fresh fish, chicken, roasted vegetables, quinoa, soups, and their infamous Immune Boasting Broth. And it was free. Absolutely amazing and a gift that will be put to the test over the next several weeks. I'll tell you, my hair, fingernails and skin have never looked better, so it must be doing an amazing job on the insides, too!

A wonderful friend provided me with two months worth of ASEA Redox Supplement. It enhances cellular functions and strengthens the body's natural efforts to maintain optimal health from the inside out. I drink two ounces first thing in the a.m and two more in the p.m. This is tough; it tastes exactly like pool water. But I did it; probably helped with the skin, nails, too.

I've had my diffuser basically strapped to me, also. I have been using doTerra essential oils diffused, topically and internally for over a year. I love them so much, that I began selling them a few months ago. I make my own cleaners, dryer sheets, blends for acne and blends for Torrie's seasonal asthma. I am probably half way through the process of eliminating household products that contain so many toxic chemicals and replacing them with certified therapuetic grade oils. They also help my anxiety sooo much. I love using them during meditation, too.

I have them packed to go to the hospital, just like I did last week, but this time, I'm bringing order forms! The Dr.'s and nurses love coming into my room and smelling the wonderful pure aromas of lavender, frankincense, and others.

I also began oil pulling. I read something about it, then did some research and thought what the heck, I'll give it a try. Basically, you take 1 large teaspoon of organic, non-fractionated, refined Coconut Oil (Whole Foods, Trader Joes) and I add a drop of doTerra lemon or peppermint oil, and you place it in the side of your cheek until it starts to melt. Then you just swoosh it around your mouth (like gargling), but for 15 - 20 minutes. It's tough at the beginning, but then becomes habit; I do it while I'm in the shower or putting on my makeup. Easy, peasy.

Coconut Oil is rich in essential nutrients, medium-chain fatty acids, and immune-boosting lauric acid, a nutrient rich substance which supports immune function and helps fight infection. So while you're wooshing, your soaking up these great immune system boosters, plus you're killing any bacteria that is lingering in your mouth; ready to make it's way into your bloodstream.

Water. Tons of water. I must go through 10 - 12 refills of my REUSABLE water bottle a day. I use a lemon a day also, squeezed into the water throughout the day. It's fabulously refreshing.

I eliminated caffeine. I love coffee, but I love drinking a large, iced lemon water even more.

Sugar has been the toughest because it is everywhere!. I didn't go crazy with this one, I just made a conscious effort to kill my sweet tooth by other means. I usually have a craving for sugar around 4:30, which is also when I have a nap attack. A large glass of water and a piece of fruit usually does it. I'm way past candy bars, etc. which I feel is an accomplishment, but still a long way to go.

So I'm ready. I have my Rosary that was blessed by the Pope that wonderful friends gave me. My pic line was placed yesterday, so no more digging around for veins. Now it's just the emotional part.

I'm terrified. Panic attack terrified. And I've never been like this before the countless surgeries I've had in the past. Thoughts in my mind like, you've done a lot this year and Torrie is going off to college, Tessa is almost done with college;  those were benchmarks I always strived for. Coincidentally, it's the 40th anniversary of my mom's death to breast cancer on the 21st. In the dark places of the back of my mind, I'm wondering if this past year has been my last hurrah.

I'm not the least bit afraid to die. I just don't want to, anytime soon - like today, because I have so much that I want to do! I'm not ready.

In the fall, I want to open my own meditation place "Mindfulness and Matters" and I want to teach as many people as I can, what I have learned. Location, location! I want to see marriages and grandbabies, I want to grow old. Something I never thought would happen to me.

So please, if you will, lift up a prayer for me while I'm on that table today, that God will take care of me, heal me, and let me stick around here a bit longer.

I love you all so much and thank you for all of the kind words and support.

Namaste,
Kim

A Little Meeting with Father Bob

Last Monday morning, I went to my church (St. Peter Claver), as I had made an appointment to speak with Father Bob. He was already made aware that I had been awarded a private meeting with the Archbishop of Hartford on Wednesday, and I wanted to share with Father what I had planned to speak about with Archbishop Blair. My goal of my meeting was to recruit and receive a blessing from the Archbishop to begin implementing the Unbottled Water Campaign in the parishes and with the youth groups across the archdiocese, in response to the MDC/Niagara Bottling debacle.  Of course, I wanted him to bless me, too, for my surgery that would take place one week later.

Father Bob was very receptive to the ideas and then we began to talk personally. He is the first priest that I have been able to talk to as a friend, rather than as an authority figure that I automatically shut down to. That makes me so happy. We discovered we read the same devotional each morning and reflected on that morning's reading. Then we began to discuss the parish itself, and how was he settling in, etc. He remarked how happy he was to be there, yet still missed the parishioners from his former church, too. Overall, he was adjusting nicely. I have seen Father Bob many times on Thursday evenings as I prepare for Mindfulness Meditation. I have met with him one other time, and I have seen him at Mass; a few times. Ouch. I felt a nerve tingle.

He stated how the attendance in the Catholic Church as a whole has declined due to scandals, etc. He said that even our attendance was down, yet he could be recognized at Stop & Shop and have a lovely conversation with a parishioner, but not see them at church that weekend. (He's talking about me, I know he's talking about me!!) Ouch, there's that nerve again.

Over the years, I lived at my church. I taught CCD, was a daily communicant, a Eucharistic Minister, Catholic Biblical College, a Lay Minister, and most importantly, becoming certified as a Pastoral Counselor. I did everything I could do in my church, constantly trying to fill an emptiness inside me. I wanted what all of the other parishioners had: I wanted peace and joy. I wanted Jesus' love. I just felt empty, not worthy...something. I felt I had to earn His love, just like I had to earn my dad's when I was young.

Our church underwent many changes at the same time I was feeling this way, plus I was very sick with cancer. I began trying out other parishes, churches, etc. I began a daily private practice of worship, that I still do. I was missing my church, yet I still couldn't fill that hole.

I decided to try just working on my relationship with God. I studied the Bible so hard and read the Gospels over and over, waiting for my heart to be broken wide open. I learned to just sit and be QUIET, to listen and to give God the opportunity to whisper to me. This was actually the beginnings of my meditation practice that I lead today. And slowly, very slowly, I started to feel peace. I started to hear God's voice in the Bible passages I was reading. I keep a journal, so that I can go back and look how present God had been during so many times of my life.

And finally, I got down on my knees and completely turned my will over to God. I turned over the cancer, the financial difficulties, the strains of relationships, everything. I couldn't handle things one more day, so I turned it over. Thy will, not mine, be done. And then the miracles started to happen.

People look at my life and ask, "How can you take this, how do you manage?". I don't, God does.
It's actually very simple; I talk to God every morning with gratitude for a new day. I let him know what's on my heart and I sit still and listen. And then I ask God to take control of my day, so that my will is actually His. It works beautifully for me.

What are the miracles? I still have cancer, that's true. But I am alive after 18 years and 11 of them being Stage 4. I am strong enough for another surgery on Wednesday.  I have prayed for Ken and his work for 10 years, God is getting ready to give Ken his miracle, too.

And then I talked with Father Bob.

So that nerve that tingled when Father was talking about open spaces in the pews; well that was a miracle. I admitted (confessed, really) that I had been really slacking. I guess that I thought all of the things I was doing on my own was enough. Father pointed out the most obvious thing: God wants us to worship Him. With other Catholics. Every week. Father is so right.

Shortly after our meeting concluded, I ran errands and began not to feel so well. By 8:00 p.m that night I had been admitted to Yale/Smilow Hospital for extreme pain in my belly. I was going to have to be kept in the hospital for several days. But what about the Archbishop?! I would have to postpone.

On Thursday morning in the hospital, my phone rang and it was Father Bob. His kind voice assured me everything would be alright. Before we hung up, I told him I would see him Saturday afternoon for Mass.

I walked into the church just as the service was starting and caught his eye expecting a nod or wave. Instead, he came over and offered a gentle hug. After service,he told me he would be praying for me and my surgery; and I believed him.

I finally have what I've always wanted, a church that I can call home, and a Priest that is a new friend
 and will help me deepen my relationship with Jesus.

I am at peace.

And that's a miracle, too.

Blessings,
Kim

When Everything Is Hurting, Go Fly A Kite

We've had to sell our house in Newport. Ken has owned the house almost 28 years. It seems longer because in my mind there was Newport before Ken met me, and the was Newport after Ken met me. I don't like to imagine our house (and we always just called it Newport; no fancy names like some of the mansions and homes that line the streets of town. Just Newport.) and the parties, etc. that took place before me. It's a girl thing. But I grew to love that house and the wonderful times we had in it, as if it had always been just ours.

We started talking about the inevitable selling of Newport last fall when my week long hospital stay, extended into months, and our resources had long been tapped with my astronomical insurance costs, college tuitions we were never able to set apart because of my health. Last year, our out of pocket expenses after insurance were over $31,000; a college tuition itself. But my angel friends set up an account and by the Grace of God, we were able to remain afloat. We had not one extra penny to spend, but we were afloat.

But then in March, totally without warning, the person that Ken has worked side by side with for over 12 years, let Ken go. Sales had been down, it's a cyclical business, but I firmly believe it was because of the huge expense of our insurance. We own our policy, but the company was paying half. Ken was told 'I can't fire myself, so I have to let you go". Just like that. The unthinkable had happened. We knew we had been walking a tightrope for several years, just praying that Ken would remain healthy and that one Big Deal, would get us on top again, as it always had. But I continued to get sick. The cancer has remained stable, but my body was now suffering the fallout of drinking drano all of those years. The fascia in my belly keeps deteriorating, and my immune system is completely shot, so I get a massive infection if someone looks at me wrong.

Ken will be 65 this year. Wrong age to be jumping into the employment pool. He has opportunities to work in the same business as an independent contractor, which he will probably do, but the payments come whether you are able to pay them or not. We filed for unemployment, I filed for food assistance. It's a frightening and humiliating feeling, but I thank God for the bit that we receive. And I thank Thank God for Newport. Our sanctuary, our investment; the investment we never had any intention of liquidating.

So Ken and a friend, Glen, went up early Saturday with a truck to start bringing home things that we did not sell with the house. One was a scooter that has worked perfectly for 27 years. We now have three scooters in the garage. No cars can fit in there, just scooters.

Before they got to the house, they decided to go down Lower Thames for breakfast at a  great old diner. After bellies were full, Glen suggested they take a ride out to Brenton Point to see if there were any early kite fliers. One of my family's most favorite things to do after a day at the beach, was to shower, pack up a basket of munchies and drinks, grab the pups, blankets and chairs, and go fly kites at Brenton Point. I have pictures of the kids in strollers, we have done this for so long. We would stay til the sun went down then home for dinner.

There were a few kite flyers there and as Ken was looking out over the water, Glen reached behind the seat of his truck, and pulled out...a kite.

Glen is known for his spontaneity and making sure everyone has a good time, but to Ken, Glen is probably the best friend he's ever had, and Saturday was a perfect example of why. He didn't just arrive with his truck, ready for a day of schlepping etc. He knew this was going to be terribly difficult for Ken and he anticipated that. He knew the feelings that Ken has been tormented by. Unemployed, age, fear, worry over my surgery this week. Glen knew that and did what he had to do. He brought a kite.

There is no other person I would rather have been with Ken, than Glen.

And now we wait, the agonizingly long wait for the closing. Ken has a hard time separating the memory from the item. I know he will never forget this past Saturday and our whole family has enjoyed being a witness to a pure act of kindness.