The Journey
They found it by “accident”. They were not looking for it when it made itself known. I was in the hospital because I was having an acute gallbladder attack. The pain was excruciating. I am not certain I have ever felt that level of acute sharp pain before or since. The good news, it was handled with some antibiotics. The other good news was that they discovered I had rectal cancer because of a blood test they performed. When they find something like this they have a special name they like to use. The medical term for an incidental finding of a mass or lesion, detected by CT, MRI, or other imaging modality performed for an unrelated reason is called an incidentaloma.
No one was more surprised than I. I had no symptoms of this and when they scoped me (due to the lab findings), they found it. It was a slow growing tumor by type and they estimate it had been growing for 15 years. It was sort of circular, but was really more in the shape of the rings on a screw, in a spiral. This allowed everything to pass through with, well…ease.
When my surgeon scoped me the second time, because it was just inside the door, so to speak, she let me stay awake and watch. It was fascinating to see. The one thing every doctor asked, at every visit, was “How much pain are you in?” I wasn’t in any pain. I had zero symptoms. I have been very fortunate. At no point in this journey have I had pain from the tumor.
What I have become acutely aware of is that there is a weird pattern which seems to happen in my family, from my grandmother down to my sister’s children. No one ever presented with anything experienced the way it is described in a textbook. I suspect this is due to my family’s belief systems and if false growths are created by false beliefs, we are really good at hiding both. An important awareness.
My father died 30 years following a silent heart attack, from said heart attack. My sister had a spinal cord tumor, which was so silent and the symptoms so vague, no one was looking for a spinal tumor. By the time it was discovered, until surgery, she was warned that one wrong move would paralyze her. Her surgeon was extremely talented and she has almost no perceivable limitations.
I think I know what this is about. From my earliest memories, we were taught not to talk about anything. My dad did not want anyone to challenge what he was trying to create, so everything was a secret. This was drummed into us from a very young age. I think it was a mistake. I think the result, metaphysically, was that things within us hide from the view of others - physically - and even from ourselves.
My tumor, my dad’s heart attack, my sister’s tumor were all secrets, even from ourselves. I recognized several years ago that the secret thing was not a good idea. As a long-time member of Al-Anon, I am well acquainted with the motto – “We are only as sick as our secrets." The truth of this statement has been born out in my life. My life is not a secret. Consciously I hide nothing. I have nothing to hide.
This current episode of what is hidden in my body started in the first part of February 2024. But first, I need to go back in time - about 15 years ago, to the weirdness of how I was diagnosed with, and treated for breast cancer. My regular doctor had sent me to one of his long-time cronies, who had examined me and sent me for all the radiology. He was an old school guy and had something against what is known as a sentinel node biopsy—which is where they administer dye via the lymphatic system to determine if any of the lymph nodes have been affected.
I then had a lumpectomy, the intention of which was to remove the tumor and try to save the breast. He biopsied 13 lymph nodes in my armpit, taken for analysis. When I returned to his office he informed me the margins of the surgery came back dirty. That means they did not remove the entire tumor. This news was strangely punctuated with him weeping. I spent the remainder of the visit consoling him. It just felt like there was something wrong with this picture. At this point, I knew I needed a new doctor.
I contacted my step-mom's plastic surgeon and talked with the front desk. I explained I was looking for the best in relation to breast restoration. She did not give me the usual three choices. She said there was only one and referred me to Dr Rast. Dr Rast is a boobie doctor and does not just work with post mastectomy patients. He does every manner of breast surgeries you can imagine. He was both adorable and magnificent. We talked a lot about what I wanted most surgically. He asked for the name of my cancer surgeon, so I told him my story and asked for a referral.
Following my surgery, I returned to his office for a follow-up visit. The surgery required the breast muscles to be stretched with something called, “expanders”. The doctor wished to add more liquid to further stretch the muscles and make room for the permanent gel bags. I asked how big he intended to make them. And then, for the first time, he inquired as to the size I preferred. I informed him that for a large portion of my life, I could not button my blouses. I could now do so and that was good with me. He said fine and laughed a lot. Most of his patients were looking for bigger boobies and do not care about buttoning blouses.
When Dr Rast gave me a referral to a cancer surgeon, unlike the plastic surgeon, he gave three names. However, he told me to ignore the first two. When I called, they suddenly had a cancellation, and I got in to see Dr. Amy Jew within a week. Dr. Jew, a beautiful Asian woman, had a very calm manner, a peaceful ambience.. I liked her right away.
She had managed in that one week to not only obtain all my records, but the team she had gathered read over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I now had a team of people who cared and sought to determine the best course of my treatment! I liked that idea. It is presently the normal level of care provided but was a fairly new concept at the time.
She began to talk with me about their findings. First, she needed me to know that the breast MRI which had been performed had been reread by the radiologist on her team and that the previous radiologist had missed a positive lymph node in my breast itself. She then asked me what I knew about the type of breast cancer I had, which was nothing.
Apparently, it was a type which had a 47% chance of coming back as a new primary tumor on the other side. Since I was not interested in that possibility, we determined that I should have a bilateral mastectomy. She saved my life. The cancer had already moved out of the breast. The first surgeon had left an affected lymph node in the breast because a sentinel node biopsy was not done. This quite frankly would have been a death sentence.
Dr. Jew then asked me a question unrelated to my physical issues. She wanted to know how I had gotten an appointment with her, because she had been booked for six months. I told her I had called the front desk, and they had just had a cancellation. I got the appointment on my first call to her office. She was astounded. In our continued conversations she shared with me that she also had a metaphysical bent. I know we both bonded over our conversations.
That weekend, I went to a Chiropractic convention and talked with a long-time friend. He and his wife used to work directly with breast cancer patients. What they did was metaphysical, and it involved the chambers of the mind. Standing in the middle of Crown Center Shopping Center he placed his hand over my right breast and closed his eyes. He never said a word. I don’t know how to explain it, but when he opened his eyes and removed his hand, I knew it was gone, and everything would be alright. It was a complete “knowing”.
I went to surgery the next week. They gave me a shot before surgery that should have both erased my memory and knocked me out at the same time. I had other plans. I wanted to see the inside of the operating room, so I used my energy to stay awake. Dr Jew was quite surprised that I was still very much awake as I entered the operating room. She asked me why I was still awake. I told her I wanted to see inside of the room. She laughed and told me to close my eyes and imagine a sunrise. I can still close my eyes and see that sunrise today. She and Dr Rast tag-teamed for the surgery and everything went splendidly.
The most remarkable part of all of this: When they removed the rest of the tissue on that side and sent it to pathology, they could find no more cancer except for that lymph node. The so-called dirty margins were gone. I was not surprised. I had been guided and directed through all of this.
I believe I have been guided and directed through this episode as well. Too many coincidences have made themselves known. Today, as I am walking through this other false growth, it has not proceeded in a way which any of my doctors have expected. While enduring these long months of chemo poisoning has not been fun (I had some physical issues), my oncologist was quite surprised at what I didn’t experience, although he was unhappy about the experience I had in the end. The keto acidosis from the steroids put me in the hospital for five days while he was out of the country due to the death of his father. I learned many things during that keto-acidosis episode. I wrote about it earlier and you should be able to go back and find it on Vesper Flights.
The chemo radiation, while not a great deal of fun, did not cause me any great distress during treatment. Just fatigue, which was measurable. My oncologist constantly asked about bleeding and side effects of the chemo portion, which I did not have during the treatment. The last week of treatment, I did end up with a rash from the chemo drug. I am almost complete with treatment for the rash. One week following the end of treatment the radiation burn showed up, like a bad peeling sunburn. That was it.
What made the difference? Beyond a doubt, in my own mind, it was the constant Translation® I was doing during my time there. I did both MTR and written Translation® throughout my daily treatment as well as simply saying the Lord’s Prayer with Thane’s translation, to keep my mind where I wanted it to be during the treatment. My sister and I would try to have a small adventure every afternoon to keep our spirits up. Often it was just watching the leaves as they began to change color.
I still have the surgery ahead of me, but I am not concerned about that, except for discovering what gifts find me through that experience. The original tumor has shrunk significantly, which will make the surgery easier. Which is the entire point of why I went through all the chemo and radiation I have experienced. The main piece of information that has kept me going through all of this is my team has, from the beginning, expected me to make a full recovery. I always expected it. It just made it easier, in a sense, that they were in agreement. I too have things to do.
My mind has been turned to what I can learn about myself through this entire process. While I value the insights, I would never wish the journey on anyone, friend or foe. Yet, what I have garnered has often been exquisite. I wish the gains I have made for everyone I know. That is a seeming paradox. Yet it is not. Each of us goes through our own individual learning.
I cannot name a specific benefit I have gained through this experience, I just know I have changed. I have gained enormous insight into my own spiritual journey - one step at a time. I am still recovering from what the chemo has done to some of my thought processes, particularly memories. It is as though names of people and places have been misfiled and I have to take a moment or two to re-collect them. They are still there. There doesn’t seem to be any information missing. It just takes a moment or two longer to bubble up. My doctor says this should pass. My surgery will be December 27, just after Christmas. Merry Christmas to me!
I look forward to recovery and getting active with teaching in The Prosperos. I want to publicly thank William for his guidance along my journey. Also for his foresight and vision. I am so thankful for having him as Dean as I have moved through this. He knew I needed to focus on me and what I could learn about myself on this journey. Which was a lot. I needed permission, not from William or The Prosperos, but from Spirit to focus on me. I will be forever thankful that he gave me that gift. Maholo Nui Loa dear friend.
What a long strange trip it has been. Mahalo