Healing Is An Inside Job
I’ve been engaged in doing my work. Healing is an inside job and a cancer journey is traumatic as heck. So although I’ve not been here sharing, I’ve been busy processing the copious amounts of trauma I’ve experienced.
At the Oncologist’s office recently, the nurse asked me “how’s your upstairs?” while pointing to her temple. I found it annoying. It feels as though they’ve labeled me “too emotional” and say some really objectionable things to me like “you’re going to need to learn to put these emotions in a box and tuck them away” or “all women going through this are depressed at this stage.” WHAT THE ACTUAL?!?!? I wish I could teach the world to be trauma-aware. I also wish I could teach the world to ask someone how they are instead of telling them how they are. I don’t identify as depressed. Emotional, yes. And the advice (ADD•vice) it’s terrible. I think I’ll follow my own way and stick to working on the trauma. In my potentially unpopular opinion, suppressing emotions or storing them in a box inside your brain is a sure fire way to end up with disease (dis•ease) or brain cancer.
The mere writing and thinking of doing a trauma training for these people makes my whole heart feel happy - these weeks are THE BEST! We have so much fun and create such a powerful connection. I want that for all of us. The last training I did was almost a year ago during chemo, it was phenomenal.
I also wish people came with a mute button. I wish nurses and doctors were person-centred and trauma aware at the very least. It’s disheartening.
I REALLY miss work. I was talking to my friend Vanessa about this a few weeks back (ok, months - I lose track of time) and she said “Aim, you need to invite people to come back” … she knows me so well.
Here is your formal invitation. I’m ready for more work. I’m ready for more trainings. I’m ready to welcome you back in whatever capacity that might be.
If you work with people, you work with trauma. If you live with people, you live with trauma. If you are a person, you’ve experienced trauma. I’m ready to teach anyone (yes, that means you, dear reader, all you need is a reasonable degree of intelligence and a desire to learn). It helps us to be a better human, a better listener, and to not only understand trauma but to understand and be capable of helping yourself and other people to navigate their trauma. If you want to learn, text me “I want to do better” before you keep scrolling and forget: 519 324-6783
I had a hard to explain shower download that shocked even me! For those of you who aren’t familiar with my shower downloads - they’re when clarity comes in the shower. I can’t deny them because the visceral knowing is always present. All questioning or worry is washed away and I KNOW what I’m to do. A very special thank you to my friend Sylvia for the sparkles of HOPE (Hours Of Positive Energy) and her shower upload in creating the perfect superhero getup for Kalvin and I. I love you to infinity and beyond! You may never know how much I appreciate your gift and how it helps me pull the strength I need each day from deep inside of me as I confront this super hard adjuvant therapy.
I have been attempting, with the help of Sam, to find my correct dose of full extract cannabis oil.. Some people know this as Rick Simpson Oil (RSO). Let’s just say it’s been a trip. I now have some clarity on how beneficial psychedelic assisted psychotherapy can be. Aside from killing cancer cells, I’ve accessed some suppressed trauma. So cheers! How does it get any better than that? If you want to know more about this, let’s chat. I’ve learned a lot that seems worth sharing and exploring with anyone who has an interest spark about this.
I also was gifted some very helpful information from my friend Jaedy about the MC1R gene, which is most likely why I’m having such a hard time finding the dose. That’s the gene for red hair expression. I was floored. Did you know people with MC1R gene also metabolize medication differently and experience pain differently? It answered a lot and is very true for me. Sadly, I haven’t yet found a medical provider who has a clue what I’m speaking about. But, about that…. I was beyond impressed with the amount of time my Oncologist spent listening to me talking about muscle testing meds. I mean she might think I’m batshit insane, but hey, she heard me and if nothing else pretended to be interested. And, didn’t shove me in a rubber room so I feel like I am totally winning! Anyways, the CBD - for a person who has NEVER consumed any cannabis, my dose is super high, and sometimes it does nothing (which is the goal) and other times after 6-8 hours it metabolizes and I start with a wild journey through some life events. It’s a bit entertaining to say the least. 🤪 At least I stopped fighting it or trying to control it, which made it so much worse.
Aside from the things I’ve learned from Sam, there is the knowing that he is pure, honest, and just wants to help people with cancer. I went into that whole experience with him listening to my gut feelings and the energy of it all, and I’d recommend him to anyone who wants to learn more and help themselves in non-western ways. He’s cool beans.
Man, this is getting long. That’s what I get for shoving it aside for so long. Thanks for being here and catching up with my journey. The amount of people who message me asking if I’m okay because I haven’t blogged is amazing to me. I feel really loved!
I’ll tell you about my boob dent and my jeep story and then I think we are close to caught up …. Which one first?!?
Well, they’re both about manifesting and they’re both kind of magical for me…. Ah let’s start with the boob. Y’all okay with that?
I finally got to see Dr. Lutz, thanks to my dear viewer and friend who helped make that happen! I love the people who come into my life and spread their love on me! I am beyond blessed! People wait for Dr. Lutz for years for breast reconstruction, I can see why - she is loaded with knowledge and super kind. My friend Heather came with me and all the hope I had quickly was squashed. If you are a reader with breast cancer and aren’t far along on the journey, let me be a source of information for you. I was told lies over and over at the cancer clinic. I had been asking since July when the dent in my breast that underwent surgery and re-excision appeared, causing my nipple to get stuck for help. And, each time I was told untruths. Each time I was told it’s a later thing; after radiation is over they can make it look pretty again. I had not once complained about how it looked, and had over and over complained about how it felt and how it kills to try to clean it. I had said over and over it feels pinched like there is a binder clip on it. Well, because they outright lied to me, it means that “fixing it” isn’t as easy as it could have been. I left this appointment in tears, my hope for an answer shattered. As Heather went to the washroom, I broke down on the bench. I wanted to scream. As I cried, Heather held me in a hug and said, “I’m sorry, kiddo. I know this is not what you wanted to hear. It wasn’t and I was so thankful to not be alone. I couldn’t confront the options she gave me. They all sucked.
Do nothing.
Get a double mastectomy and stay flat.
Have some fat drawn from my abdomen and try to fill in the dent with no guarantees. Requiring 2-10 surgeries since only about 60% of the injection would maintain blood supply and the other 40% wouldn’t live.
Do a Diep flap surgery cutting my abdomen from hip bone to hip bone which is the one surgery I swore was a definite NO for me since day one.
I asked her to write them down as I felt myself completely dissociating standing there with my chest fully exposed and feeling raw, completely vulnerable and totally traumatized. Dr. Lutz kept apologizing to me. She could feel my despair. It was palpable.
I dropped Heather off and her, Anne, and I sat in the car for hours as Heather told Anne what happened. I saw Anne’s face drop and I hate that my friends and family have to feel my pain. I’m also so beyond thankful for them and knowing I’m not alone. It’s a catch 22 really. Next, I knew I’d have to tell Mikey and the kids and as I approached home I could feel the jump swelling up in my throat. Tears weren’t cutting it. I was angry and sad and disappointed and stressed and bewildered and frustrated and a host of other unwanted feelings. I felt beyond broken. I needed a session. I needed a hug and I needed to break something. That night, after a whole lot of sympathy from my people I laid my head down and just cried. I then decided to ask the universe to give Dr. Lutz a nudge, that she in her busy day didn’t forget what happened. I said out loud, maybe tonight she’ll be going through her day and be unable to sleep and another option will come to her. I shared this with Mikey as he spooned me to sleep. That was Monday. As the days went on, and I did my best to confront the situation, talking about it to Craig in my session, and texting Tamara about a consult for a tattoo idea, I had mostly decided that a double mastectomy, staying flat with tattoos was the answer for me. Even though cutting off a breast that wasn’t trying to kill me seemed totally insane, I did see her point in it causing imbalance and hurting my shoulders and back over time and also looking a bit wonky in clothes. I was thinking I would get Kylee to draw me the tattoo—something super feminine, and I could see myself feeling at least okay living out my life in this way. This was the inspiration but, it would be even more special designed by my sweet talented Kylee.
This is me on my wedding day. I’d like the flowers to look more like these with some words as well…. I can see it…. and as long as my body would hold the colour I think it would be so pretty 🩷🌸
By Friday, I was convinced my idea that Dr. Lutz would come up with something better was merely denial. And then, the phone rang. I had just got my mom settled on her bed after her appointment and the phone rang. “Hi Amie, it’s Kristina Lutz. I couldn’t stop thinking about your situation and I know it is awful, I can see exactly what you’re complaining about and I had a hard time sleeping thinking of other options so I contacted some colleague friends in London and we all agree on 2 more options.” I apologized for the sleep thing and told her what I had asked for. She laughed. So, in September I will undergo surgery under her skillful hands to fix the dent in the way she believes is the best option. I was so thankful and it restored my faith yet again that the whole world is on my side as long as I’m true to who I really am. I really am a fighter, a believer, and a manifesting aficionado.
Then on Monday, I got to see not one but 3 fully healed surgeries of the latissimus dorsi muscle flap at the PINKS meeting. This is a support group for breast cancer survivors to share experience, strength, and their boobs. No, not really but it’s known to happen. I have seen a lot of cancer boobs and I’m realizing how fortunate I am to not have a single radiation burn. I KNOW this was because I didn’t listen and followed my own way. What they told me made no sense to me. Crunchy mama for the win. Again. My girl Sylvie hooked me up with some aloe sprays and gels and I healed. I have the best people in my life. Sylvie and I met in TIR training, and last year I had the pleasure of training her a second time and now she interns with me and we share so much love! My TIR crew is my family and I love them so much! I am so lucky. My life is a gift filled with so many special humans!
-O|||||O- I miss my Jeep. I feel like such a whiny little brat about it. I also have never been so short on money in my entire life. I think my piggy bank might’ve had more in it when I was 4 than my current bank account most days. It’s yet another part of this cancer journey that is less than a slice. Most people I meet can get EI or long term sick benefits. Self employed lover of her universe over here doesn’t have those perks. I’ve also not heard anyone talk about how expensive cancer is. How draining it is financially. At first, it seemed like the spaces and places I would borrow from myself I could one day soon put back. That thought seems laughable at best at this stage. I’ve lost a lot to cancer. And, it sucks. Can I recover financially? Sure! What would it take? Well, I could train a hundred people at this stage and I’d be golden. You know what? How about I ask the universe to send me 100 people this year to be trained? That would be so fun and so possible.
Anyways…. back to my old Jeep! When I turned in my lease September 17 I cried. And cried. And cried. The whole ride to Windsor with my co-captain Kalvin I talked to my Jeep and told it (no, I’m not crazy 😜) that I hoped it found someone who would love it as much as me, someone who would love the things I picked, like the saddle seats and the SkyOne touch roof, and thanked it for filling my days with joy and fun rides and experiences. So, I’m sitting on my couch looking for a new Jeep online, which is one of the things the anxiety I sometimes experience about not having my own car brings me to fairly regularly. Ok, every day. OK, sometimes several times a day. I get this message from a stranger on Instagram. At first I thought they were going to try to scam me somehow, which wasn’t going to work, but after a few messages back and forth I asked “hey, how did you find me?” and they sent me a picture with my name and all of my contact info on it, along with the bold date and keep deets. I knew my Jeep would end up being sent to auction in the US.
All of this to say, she is loved. The new owners say the saddle seats “set the mood for the day” and thanked me many times for building her. She’s had lots of modifications and she even has a reddish coloured dog passenger so I know she’s happy. I finally felt closure of some sort with that activity cycle and I know all of that happened for me, because of that talk on our last ride. Is it also weird, and near unheard of? Absolutely. This is the life I seem to live. I’m on the hunt for a bluish grey Willy’s and I’m asking the Universe to make it happen but, for now I’m happily (lie) driving my sweet mother in laws compASS (sorry, not sorry) I do really appreciate it, and it’s good on gas, but I’ll be happy when I’m working again and taking care of my own adult responsibilities, including my own car.
Well, friends. This post was started weeks ago and although there’s probably lots more I could bore you with I’ll say see you later alligator for now. Thanks for hanging out and sharing life with me. Hugs!
