Our Spirit Connects Us

How do you know when you’re on the right track?  I think you need to listen to your Spirit, that holy and divine essence that makes each of us move, but which over time and troubles can become encased in our shit!   Each of us has a small voice that speaks to us in subtle ways.  It’s the nudge that causes you to look to the side just in time to avoid an accident.  It’s the sense that you need to move or you’ll be bumped into by another person charging down the hallway.  It’s the image of a friend popping into your mind and then hearing a story about him, or seeing him pop up on facebook, or getting a phone call.  It’s the almost imperceptible pressure you sometimes feel when you’re alone or in deep thought, the sense that someone is there in the room with you while you’re alone. (more…)

Five Months Later

Today I hit an almost milestone.  Five months ago today I had my breast cancer surgery.  Whether it was a physical memory of the procedures that day or just routine aches, I found myself remembering the pace of that day with a little anguish.  I awoke exhausted this morning.  I couldn’t conceive of getting out of bed.  My body hurt all over.  And to make matters more aggravating, I was assured that my period once again started…eleven days after “Aunt Flo” left me… (more…)

In Praise Of A Woman’s Spirit!

I grew up devouring books about girls who overcame hardships and challenges in life and found happiness and success.  Most of the time.  The books I read didn’t always have happy endings.  Regardless, I was inspired to read of girls who grew up and lost friends, lost loves, lost their lives, their farms, their families and yet persevered.  The message I took from these stories was:  Women find ways to continue on.  Not quite, “…tomorrow is another day.”  More like “Today isn’t over ’til it’s over!” (more…)

A Touchy Subject: Breast Suppleness

I’ve read women’s accounts and listened to women describe disappointment and frustration over the firmness or hardness of their breast weeks, months, even years after lumpectomy and radiation.   Throw in the gnarled tender scar that lies just beneath the surface of the skin and fear jumps up front and center.

I remember the first time I tried to touch my wound the day after surgery.  My site had been finished (or top coated as I imagined) with some kind of industrial body glue which left the side of my breast feeling waxy (more…)

“That’s What Friends Are For…”

My life really did drastically change after being diagnosed with breast cancer.  At first it was a battle.  Now, it’s a reality of my life.  Check ups. Evaluations. Medications. Side effects.  Residual pain. Coping.  Moving on.  I understand now that my life will always be a little different than it used to be.

Maybe that’s what Dr. Goulet was trying to get me to understand.  It’s a sobering revelation.

I’m starting to “get back out” among friends and colleagues.   I wasn’t aware of how isolated I’d made myself until (more…)

Hmmm. Side Effect?

Well I did a little more digging on the side effects of Tamoxifen. I’ve got an appointment scheduled with my family doctor later this morning. Going to have the “playground” checked out…if you know what I mean!

What started as an unexpected Saturday night sans enfants progressed into Saturday Night Fever shortly after arriving home from our dinner date! Now I’m fearful it’s turned into what could be an hilarious deleted scene from American Pie. (more…)

So You’ve Been Told You Have Breast Cancer. Any Comment?

A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do!

“Why, yes, as a matter of fact I do.  Are we on?  “AHEM…”

“FUCK YOU, cancer!  Check these puppies out!  You son-of-a-bitch!  You can’t take from me what God gave me and made whole and life-sustaining.  So go ahead.  Weasel your way in and just try and invade my life!  I’ll beat you senseless, tear you limb-from-limb, burn you alive, and crush you with every ounce of my being before I let you touch my family! 

I nursed my children into powerful, brilliant, athletic, artistic leaders of their lives and their little communities. 

I displayed my femininity playfully while young bouncing in wet bathing suits, wet t-shirts, damp towels.  I used my advantage at times in business under smooth sweaters, filmy blouses, sleek blazers.  I’ve drawn eyes with scarves, necklaces, pearls.  

I comforted my husband, my children, my lovers with graceful love and tenderness.  I WILL NOT have those powers or memories robbed from me!  Go ahead.  Push me, asshole!    You have NO IDEA who you’re trying to FUCK WITH!”

(Announcer, quietly, off camera…Angie’s rancorous, disturbed thoughts are, quite clearly, the reason she once again this year WON’T be nominated for The Mother Theresa of Calcutta Award!  Now back to our studio.)