5 Things I Learned During Chemo

My cancer diagnosis back in April of 2021 was an unexpected gift in  many ways.  Perhaps most glaring was that it forced me to take a forensic inventory of my life—and how I’d been living it up until that point.  It  crystalised the things that were and are truly important.  It invited me into more personal integrity—alignment with my deeply held values.  It convinced me there was no reason to sweat the small stuff—adulting means we have more responsibility, more to live for, more to lose, and more to let go of when it ceases to serve us.  

I’ll never forget the day after I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  We attended a friend’s over-the-top gorgeous wedding outside of Nashville.  I  had no idea what the course of treatment would be at that time.  All I held to that day was the certainty that my story had taken a dramatic shift to the tune of that terrifying “c” word.   

I savored every single minute that day.  I got to dress up (which is my spiritual gift), hugged and kissed my then 2-year old when we dropped  him off at my folks house on the way, sipped champagne, and held my husband’s hand tighter than I can ever remember.  I even got to slow dance with him.  As my cheek pressed up against his crisp suit jacket, I cried hot tears of joy, gratitude, and fear all at once.  I’d been given another day and the days of taking this beautiful life for granted passed right then and there.  That was another gift I was granted: perspective.

From where I sit today, nearly two years later, the lens I look through isn’t fear, it’s possibility.  I’ve undergone a bilateral mastectomy, a brutal recovery, countless doctor visits, three smaller surgeries, and chemotherapy.  I lost my hair completely.  (Thankfully it’s back…and corkscrew curly! Who knew?) I lost the illusion of invincibility.  But I’ve gained so much more.  I’m pretty sure my heart grew a new chamber.  I know my faith did.

Along the way, especially during chemo, I learned five things that I believe  we can apply in the face of any challenge.   I want to share those things with you today.  

1. Guard an open mind:  Keeping an open mind in the face of adversity is necessary.  We will never be able to predict the future and going to the worst-case scenario is futile as a result.  Though oftentimes we slide right into a fight-flight-or-freeze fear response, practicing curiosity is everything as we start to thaw out.  

2. Life is hard—it’s our attitude that makes it a bit easier: At my last oncologist appointment, my doctor told me something that I’ll  always be grateful for.  She told me that in all her years as an oncologist treating cancer patients of every kind, I was in the top  one percent whose chemotherapy experience seemed easy and even inspiring.  She attributed that to my positive attitude every step of the way.  I’ll tuck that away in my pocket the rest of my days and  forever swear by the power of a positive attitude.

3. Protect your time and energy:  It is totally okay and even necessary to pull back from our normal responsibilities during difficult seasons.  One way we do this is by setting boundaries around our time and energy.  For me, my immunocompromised state required this.  However, it was a lesson either way.  I learned to let my “no” be as good as my “yes” without guilt. 

4. Self-care pays off: It’s no accident I started the Practice, my Enneagram-based self-care business, the same year I got cancer.  It was a lesson in synchronicity.  I have been practicing self-care (esp. meditation, exercise, therapy, etc. ) religiously for decades.  I witnessed first hand how every single time I showed up for myself over the years paid it forward to undergird me in the most physically and emotionally daunting season of my life.  Practicing self-care will always serve you when you need it the most. 

5. Let people support you but not always advise you: People are well-meaning. I do believe this.  However, each of us has a unique story and process. There’s no one size fits all. Take the advice of others with a grain of salt and as a gesture of support.  My chemo experience, (that 1% situation my oncologist observed) was not informed by the stories of other’s experience with cancer.  And boy am I glad!  

Thank you for accompanying me through this incredibly wild ride. I’m on the other side for sure.  I hope and pray your journey unfolds in beautifully unexpected ways…and where there is suffering…I pray God’s grace surrounds you.

Your Enneagram Classroom Awaits You

This year has been integral for me in so many ways.  I won my battle with breast cancer and started a new business called The Practice.  Neither were by any means easy but I’m so proud of both.  It’s no coincidence that the year I faced the most daunting physical and emotional challenge, I launched my self-care passion project.  As I shared in last week’s blog, I’m 100% certain that my cancer journey was victorious due to years of my own self-care and a multitude of prayers.   I learned first hand, attitude is, indeed, everything.  

As we cross this 2022 threshold, I’m so thrilled to bring you a deeper dive into both self-care and the Enneagram.  I’ve got several opportunities for you to experience both! Over the course of the year, the founding members of the Practice gave us some vital feedback—more Enneagram  content!!!  So that’s what you’ll get.  The monthly subscription will give all the goods of the original program: daily journal prompts, yoga flows, guided meditations, expert interviews, and monthly support sessions PLUS core enneagram content each month.  We will explore concepts like growth paths, subtypes, wings, relationship styles, and more!

To love yourself is to first know yourself—to really understand the why behind how you think, feel, and act.  The Enneagram is the best tool we have for self-understanding and development.  Further understanding how to take care of you in all your glorious uniqueness is exactly what we’ll do! 

I’ll also be offering two exciting in-person opportunities to build your Enneagram toolkit.  Starting in February, I’m partnering with Nashville City Club to offer a monthly Enneagram Mastermind Group.  It’s a great opportunity to meet other professionals in the area and learn how to apply the Enneagram in your work and life.  

Lastly, Bloom groups are back! Bloom group is an enneagram-focused therapy group for women.  For anyone who wants a more affordable therapy option, groups are a wonderful option.  It offers a safe place to process the ups and downs of life and connect to other like-minded women.  It’s also an amazing way to use the Enneagram for healing and transformation.   

I’ve been studying and using this powerful tool for 15 years now and I can honestly say it has illuminated life and relationships in remarkable ways.  No matter where you are on your Enneagram journey, I believe you can find a place to go deeper with me in 2022!  I hope you’ll join…

5 Things Chemo Taught Me

My cancer diagnosis back in April of this year was an unexpected gift in many ways.  Perhaps most glaring was that it forced me to take a forensic inventory of my life—and how I’d been living it up until that point.  It crystalized the things that were and are truly important. It has invited me into more personal integrity—alignment with my deeply held values.  It convinced me there was no reason to sweat the small stuff—adulting means we have more responsibility, more to live for, more to lose, and more to let go of when it ceases to serve us.  

I’ll never forget the day after I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  We attended a friend’s over-the-top gorgeous wedding outside of Nashville.  I  had no idea what the course of treatment would be at that time.  All I held to that day was the certainty that  my story had taken a dramatic shift to the tune of that terrifying “c” word.   

I savored every single minute that day.  I got to dress up (which is my spiritual gift),  hugged and kissed my 2-year-old when we dropped him off at my folks house on the way, sipped champagne, and held my husband’s hand tighter than I can ever  remember.  I even got to slow dance with him.  As my cheek pressed up against his crisp suit jacket, I cried hot tears of joy, gratitude, and fear all at once.  I’d been given another day and the days of taking this beautiful life for granted passed right then and there.  That was another gift I’d been granted: perspective.

From where I sit today, eight months later, the lens I look through isn’t fear, it’s sheer possibility.  I’ve undergone a bilateral mastectomy, a brutal recovery, countless doctor visits, smaller procedures, and chemotherapy.  I’ve lost my hair completely.  I’ve lost the illusion of invincibility.  But I’ve gained so much more.  I’m pretty sure my heart grew.  I know my faith did.

Along the way, especially during chemo, I learned five things that I believe we can apply in the face of any challenge.   I want to share those things with you today.  

1. Guard an open mind:  Keeping an open mind in the face of adversity is necessary.  We will never be able to predict the future and going to the worst-case-scenario is futile as a result.  Though oftentimes we slide right into a fight-flight-or-freeze fear response, practicing curiosity is everything as we start to thaw out. 
   

2. Life is hard—it’s our attitude that makes it a bit easier: At my last oncologist  appointment, my doctor told me something that I’ll always be grateful for.  She told me that in all her years as an oncologist treating cancer patients of every kind, I was in the top one percent whose chemotherapy experience seemed  easy and even inspiring.  She attributed that to my positive attitude every step of the way.  I’ll tuck that away in my pocket the rest of my days and forever swear by the power of a positive attitude.
   

3. Protect your time and energy:  It is totally okay and even necessary to pull back from our normal responsibilities during difficult seasons.  One way we do this is by setting boundaries around our time and energy.  For me, my immunocompromised state required this.  However, it was a lesson either way.  I learned to let my “no” be as good as my “yes” without guilt.  I encourage you to do the same!
   

4. Self-care pays off: It’s no accident I started the Practice, my enneagram-based self-care business, the same year I got cancer.  It was a lesson in synchronicity.  I have been practicing self-care (especially meditation, exercise, therapy, etc. ) religiously for decades.  I witnessed first hand how every single time I showed up for myself over the years paid it forward to undergird me in the most physically and emotionally daunting season of my life.  Practicing self-care will always serve you when you need it the most.
   

5. Let people support you but not always advise you: People are well-meaning. I do believe this.  However, each of us has a unique story and process. There’s no one size fits all. Take the advice of others with a grain of salt and as a gesture of support.  My chemo experience, (that 1% situation my oncologist observed) was not informed by the stories of other’s experience with cancer.  And boy am I glad!  

I suppose another gift cancer gave me was a nudge to return to a lost identity—an artist.  Life is simply too short to dry up creatively.  Writing is my first passion.  Self-expression through songwriting and recording is something I stopped pursuing in my mid-thirties.  This next year I’m making some changes though.  I can’t wait to share some projects with you in January.  

Thank you for accompanying me through this incredibly wild ride.  I hope and pray your journey unfolds in beautifully unexpected ways…and where there is suffering…I pray God’s grace surrounds you.  Life is a constant gift waiting to be unwrapped.  Let’s open it up with childlike wonder this season.

My Cancer Story: Part Two

It’s been almost two months since my bi-lateral mastectomy and reconstruction…or partial reconstruction I should say.  Both surgeries went great totaling 5.5 hours and that glorious anesthesia I told you about in part 1.  However, the recovery isn’t so clean cut…up and down at it’s best.  And I’m an Enneagram 4, so that’s saying something.  

I’ll admit, I went into these surgeries a bit cocky.  Leading up, I would jokingly say to friends who asked how I was feeling about it all, “Oh, I’m good!  I mean, it’s not everyday insurance will pay for a boob job!” (Which I’ve never even considered…I’d much rather spend the money on travel, shoes, or art.)   With my self-preservation dominant subtype, I tend to walk through suffering with a fairly smooth exterior and a torrential interior.  The insides don’t always match the outsides.  When faced with a crisis, I go into over-functioning mode with a heaping tablespoon of optimism.  

Busyness, family time, work, and exercising have kept me sane.  Oh, and antidepressants I’d been prescribed about 8 months earlier for an out-of-left-field anxiety invasion.  

Sidenote: I’m a firm believer in natural or alternative interventions such as meditation, movement, self-care, and especially therapy.  Yet when all else fails, I’ll take a pill.  I’m not precious about this, simply practical. If there is help to be had, I want it.   

The anxiety I’d experienced was hormone related.  It would surge in my body at random times throughout the day in tidal proportions.  Yet, nothing was actually wrong.  I wasn’t fearful in my life. After a week of sleepless nights, I reached out to my psychiatric NP and lots of trial and error later, we landed on the right medication.  I can fake it through anxiety, but I am a you-know-what-without sleep. 

Little did I know that 8 month later, I’d find a lump in my breast that was cancer.  The cancer was comprised of these hormone receptors that they test you for in the biopsy.  Mine ended up being estrogen and progesterone positive—HER2 negative.  Suffice it to say,  an apparently hopeful outcome that directs the next steps in recovery.  So, it’s all connected, friends.  Our bodies and emotions are basically enmeshed.  

Am I saying that if you struggle with anxiety you may have cancer? 

No.

This part of my story is more about listening to your body and all the intricate things she’s trying to say.  I knew deep down that the anxiety I’d experienced was hormonal because it was so physical and not an indicator of anything provoking in me. 

Deep down, I listened to the wise words of my weary body.  “You’ll be okay.  This stuff will pass.  All of your hard work and self-care will support this process.  Now it’s time to wait.”

It’s like my body was pre-grieving the cancer, the loss, and the change.  

Learning to listen to my body over the years is perhaps the most important piece of inner work I’ll ever do.  When I found that lump, I listened to my body say, “this is serious,” yet I waited three months to get into the Breast Specialist to have it biopsied.  Thankfully, it was still early on, stage 1, when I was diagnosed, however I cringe to imagine a different turn of events had it not been detectable to the touch.  

Which brings me to the most disconcerting piece of the story.  I had a mammogram in September of 2020.  It didn’t detect the cancer.  I had another ordered by my OB, more of a diagnostic one.  It also didn’t detect the cancer.  Did you just lose your jaw? You’re not alone.  I burned with hot shock and awe after learning of this.  Thankfully, the diagnostic ultrasound clearly identified it.  

If you’re reading this asking yourself, “Isn’t that why we get mammograms? To check for disease, most commonly, cancer?”  An appropriate question.  And apparently there are exceptions to the rule. 

We must stay connected to our bodies and in doing so, listen to what she is saying at all times.  A mammogram is only the first line of defense.  We are tasked with the lifelong assignment to advocate for ourselves and our bodies at every turn.  The healthcare system is limited and simply can’t do our work for us.   So ask lots of questions and do self-exams regularly.

My PSA to you:  If you have a family history of breast cancer (especially on both sides like myself) or find any lump-like mass, big or small, go get a mammogram and ask for an ultrasound.  I’d also recommend taking the genetic test that detects gene mutations that make you more prone to developing cancer later in life.  

Bottom line: You are your most valuable advocate.  Your body will not lie to you.  

The first two weeks post-op were brutal.  Since the plastic surgeon wasn’t able to go direct-to-implant which he’d initially planned on doing, he put these clunky expanders below the skin and muscle of my chest.  I felt like I had a wooden bookshelf lodged inside.  It made sleep and movement of any kind painful and awkward.  They also put these grenade-like drains inside that collected blood and fluid from the surgery site.  I couldn’t bare to look at my body.  When I did, I saw a foreign form—concentration camp-like—staring back at me.  It was as if part of my femininity had died.  

I vacillated between Percocet, Advil, and Tylenol for the pain.  Sleep was impossible.  And worst of all, I couldn’t pick up my 20-month-old son for a month or more.  

There was plenty of silver lining: I felt beyond loved, supported, and encouraged by an outpouring from my family, friends and community with well-wishes, prayers, meals, and texts.  This flood of kindness carried me through those first two-weeks and beyond.  Thank you, again from the deepest part of my heart.  To my husband, Daniel, you are a picture of  loving-kindness, commitment in the tough times, and a servant’s heart.  I’ve seen you selflessly shine in the most beautiful way through it all.   

I now know I won’t have to have another surgery like they’d initially thought to graft healthy skin where an eschar, or dying patch of skin had developed...praise the Lord! 

I will have to undergo intravenous chemotherapy in a few weeks, though.  I’d hoped to avoid it, however I’m apparently at high risk for the cancer to  come back later on, even though it was removed.  Genetic testing proved I’m not out of the woods yet.   I’m not looking forward to this, however I know it’s the right course of action to take.  I’m praying the side effects will be minimal.  

Once I’ve completed three rounds of chemo, the plastic surgeon will gradually complete the reconstruction and I’ll walk free.  The process will  take a full year, longer than I’d like, as so many things do in life.  I’ve come to appreciate each stage of the process, actively waiting for my body to continue to speak.  She’s craving movement, stretching, rest, and kindness at the moment.  As a grateful tenant, I’m happy to oblige.  

I’m a healthy, active, young (ish), non-smoker.  I take pride in my self-care.  Because of these things, the recovery beyond that first two weeks was fairly fluid.  The story might have had a much different outcome had I not been so committed to this path of self-compassion and care.   

This chapter of my life will come to an end.

And yet life will always harbor new pain.  We’ll never fully be free from that reality.   It’s the suffering, or story we make up about our pain, that’s optional.  

Pain grows us up, humbles us down, and gives us new perspective and meaning.  That meaning, if we’re willing to tease it out, is the stuff of spiritual transformation.   

And so, thank you, Cancer.  You’ve been a rigorous and thorough teacher and you’re not done yet.  But it is time to get on with the rest of the story…

What Does Rest Look Like?

A couple of  years ago, I decided to try a new experiment. I gave myself permission to live way outside the lines during a two week vacation.  This meant if I wanted to sleep in, I’d sleep in. If I wanted to lay by the pool and drink fruity drinks with umbrellas in them, I did. If I wanted to go for a long walk, I’d go. If I wanted to eat french fries and banana bread for lunch, bon appétit. I didn’t work…at all. I let the meditation slide as well as writing and daily exercise and all the things that keep me feeling grounded.

You see, I have a tendency to want to be overly productive, and this idea of rest feels more like a dirty four-letter word than a blessing.  Also, I don’t like to sit still very much. I can’t remember the last time I went on vacation for more than one week and there wasn’t some type of work involved. For example, the summer before my experiment, we went to the beach for a week and instead of frolicking in the ocean, I spent nearly three-to-four hours a day writing copy for my website or editing a podcast.  I’d take a break to go for a run. Then, I’d sit on the beach with a book for around thirty minutes until I got bored again.

I realize this is not a way to live and there’s not even the faintest whiff of balance baked in. I’m very much working on this, hence the experiment.

Needless to say, my experiment was a failure. I didn’t feel like myself. I felt completely disconnected and discombobulated…all the “dis” words. Don’t judge me.

Also, please believe me, I am over-the-top grateful for that time away...especially now as I look back on it! We had the most fun. Yet, I learned a crucial lesson from my “research" (besides the fact that I’m a work in progress): rest looks different for everyone and doesn’t mean we disconnect from ourselves. 

This is important for you and I as we roll into the summer months. Why? Because I strongly believe we can develop the summer blues just as easily as we can the winter ones. The cause isn’t necessarily a lack of vitamin D though; it’s a sneaking and oh-so-subtle disconnection from purpose. I say this a lot, and it’s worth repeating: the opposite of depression isn’t happiness, it’s purpose.

It can be so easy to disconnect from purpose and the structures that promote a sense of grounding when summer rolls around, especially if you work for yourself or have a non-traditional work schedule. School’s out, travel ramps up, and porch hangs abound. It’s a glorious time to connect with friends and family, but it’s also a ripe time to let self-care slide.

With this shift at hand, I have three simple reminders to put in your back pocket as you embrace the lazy days of summer:

Know thy rest

Do your own experiment in order to better understand what you need in terms of rest. This doesn’t mean follow my extreme lead and swing hard in the other direction. For example, I feel most rested when I’m tuned into desire and filling up my creativity tank doing things like exploring new places, cooking for friends, or reading a good book. I get anxious when I watch Netflix in the middle of the day.

Your version may look much different and include periods of totally unplugging and taking catnaps in the afternoon. Neither way is right or wrong. The important thing is to find what you need in order to facilitate renewal in the season you’re in.

Dogs need fences

After about two days of roaming about in the wild and wooly unknown parts of the neighborhood, chances are your dog will miss the safety and consistency of your fenced-in backyard.  We, for the most part, are the same. Structure is a good thing and truly helps us stay connected to what we desire deep down, which I believe to be connection and purpose. Sure, we all need to get off the grid at times, yet consistency over time builds emotional resilience, and I have a strong suspicion you are here because you want to experience more of that. I know I do.

Give yourself some grace

In the end, the most important thing you can give yourself (and others) is grace and compassion. More than structure, more than purpose, more than self-care—you name it. Self-compassion and radical acceptance beget the desired outcome much faster than a fear-based need to control. I love this quote:

“Where we think we need more self-discipline, we usually need more self-love.”  
- Tara Mohr

I sincerely hope you’re easing into this summer season with equal parts desire and grace…and a heavy dash of amusement.