The Day Lucy Arrived ( second, rather subdued, installment )

The very first thing I could feel was relief.

I couldn't move. I couldn't see anything because I wasn't able to open my eyes. I couldn't breathe on my own. Because of the intubation I could not speak.

But I could feel…relief. Deep, deep relief. 

I could feel my body unclench and relax. It was such an all consuming feeling that it made a vivid and lasting impression on me. I awoke to feel my whole body release and relax and …feel relief.

By the time they had wheeled me to recovery, I was aware that I could also hear.

I could feel and I could hear.

I had made it through. “I” was present. “I” was here. I was still here.
I guess it wont surprise anyone who knows me to find out that I also quickly realized I could still cry.

Seven hours of surgery….behind me.

A drastic drop in blood pressure while on the table. Behind me.

An allergic reaction to the blood they gave me. Behind me.

One bladder, one uterus, 2 ovaries, 2 fallopian tubes, one appendix, a portion of my vagina, 54 lymph nodes…and ALL cancer… removed and left behind.

What I came away with was an Indiana Pouch. A new, cancer free bladder made from a portion of my large intestine. I also have a fancy new dime sized stoma 

( small hole/ access)  just to the right of my navel. This had been fashioned from a portion of my small intestine. I named this new system “Lucy”. 

As I struggled to sense or hear David ( hubby ), I became even more aware of the tube down my throat. I was determined not to allow it to bother me. It was difficult at times to remain un emotional, so I would release a tear or two and then stop. I had enough of a connection with reality to know crying, with a breathing tube in place, is not good for breathing easily. Thankfully, I was aware enough to use the energy of the sedation to meditate through the times of panic. 

The over whelming sense of relief very quickly gave way to gratitude. Not just your run of the mill gratitude…”thank you for your time”…”thank you for sharing”…”thank you for being here”…

No! This gratitude, like the relief, was grounded in a profound awareness of the fragility of life. My own life.

From the time I remember being wheeled into recovery and experiencing the deep relief of making it through the surgery, to the intense feelings of gratitude was about three hours. When I began to consistently perceive voices, I was consumed by gratitude. I could sense angelic presence. From this moment of writing and looking back, I am even more convinced of their constant presence. I could also hear the nurses taking care of me. One of the biggest blessings was them recognizing and verbalizing to each other how well I was doing with the breathing apparatus still breathing for me even though I was “awake”. I needed them to know that I was present. The healing facilitator within me, who is forever reaching out to minister, wanted them to know that their care was a blessing to me. I wanted them to know how important they are in this world and just how grateful I was for them. So I began to use my right hand to communicate. Raising it as high as I could so someone would notice, I began to pretend to hold a pencil and write in the air. It was David who figured out that the little shaking hand, barely hovering over the bedding, was an indication I wanted paper and pencil. With what I thought was a most amazing ability under the circumstances, I easily wrote my message. Later..much later, I found out that while I (barely) held the pencil and "wrote", David moved the paper from right to left so that the letters didn't end up on top of themselves. I wrote

“thank you”.

I know it wasn't a big deal for them…David and the nurses, but it was my whole life in that moment. It was everything I ever had and everything I had ever wanted….

“thank you”.

It was peaceful then.

I wrote to David that I didn't want him to go home..I needed to know he was nearby. I wrote "stay" He told me he would stay locally. More relief.

“thank you”

I could lay there, fully relaxed now, while that wonderful machine kept me breathing…puff… in..puff..out…

“thank you”

They could check my 45 staples and my 13 inch incision..puff in..puff out.

 “thank you”!

They could drain the bag collecting fluid as it built up in my abdomen…in..out..

“thank you”!

They could drain the bag that was collecting urine…in..out…

“thank you”!

When they brought me to a state of consciousness that would support my breathing on my own, they unhooked the intubation tube from the breathing machine. However, they did not relieve me of the tube. Still concerned by the allergic reaction I had had to the blood they had given me ( not uncommon ), they opted to leave the tube in place to keep my airway open. 

“ No thank you” :-)

Without the machine to breathe for me, I had to come out of that complete state of relaxation. 

From a few moments after entering the operating room at about 10 AM March 12th, to entering recovery 11 hours later, to this point in the morning of March 13th I had been sedated so that it really didn't seem difficult to allow the machine to breath for me. It was, actually, quite peaceful.

When they removed the connection to the machine but left the tube in, it was a bit more difficult. The action of my throat muscles against the tube caused me to feel as though I was choking. I fought to stay quiet, I retreated inward to meditate. As long as I stayed there, I was good. When I left meditation to communicate or if that which was going on around me infiltrated and distracted me, I would begin to gag and feel as though I was choking. Only once, though, did I lose focus to the point where the panic took over when I gagged. I tried to stop my hands from grabbing at the tube but I couldn’t! What a weird feeling to KNOW I just had to lay quiet, focus my mind and relax in order to keep from gagging but not be able to.  I kept asking myself to relax, but my hands did not want to listen. They just wanted to help me breathe the only way they knew how and that was to take the tube out.

Several nurses came to my aid…calm, firm, reminding me several times to relax. They held my hands loosely so I couldn't touch the tube but not so tight as to aggravate the panic. With the voice of an exhausted angel in my ear I surrendered into calm and retreated into meditation.

I have no recollection of having my eyes open except for tiny little peeks, during all this. My remembrance is that it was hard enough to process the stimuli I was receiving without adding another sense to assimilate. In this almost cocoon like state I was processing as much as any empath and sensitive could and I couldn't add visuals to that just yet.  Eyes closed.

”thank you”!

When noon rolled around on March 13th, it was finally time to take the tube out. With eyes wide shut I listened to the instructions from an unknown, unseen angel. I relaxed as best I could, coughed, gagged and the tube was left behind. 

 I could finally speak the words that were ringing through my whole being...“Thank You”!!!!... and then it rained liquid gratitude from my eyes. I think I filled my small hands with gallons of tears that day. Gratitude of this magnitude had never visited me before. I guess it was time to balance the horrific terror I had held so deeply in every single cell since being told that cancer was in my body. (WAS!)

 It was time for resting here in the crack...
It was time for healing mind, body, and spirit.
It was time to learn to live, and live well, with Lucy.
<3 

The day Lucy came to stay! ( first installment )

So,

Life between the cracks!

Little did I know when I started this blog

how much living room there actually is 

in the cracks of life. 

You have gathered from reading some of the posts, life really is lived here, in the cracks. We try sooooooo hard to not fall in, and if we do fall in, we scramble to escape. All that energy trying to avoid or escape the very space where everything is sacred, nothing is wasted, all is worked out for your Divine Purpose in this time and in this body. It all works together for good, here in the cracks. Through observance and deep personal experience, I know this to be true and beautiful.....but.....

For instance, I recall the days leading up to and including the day Lucy came to stay. 

I really had not invited her. Really, I hadn't  . No one had invited her in fact and no one was happy that she was coming. No one!! But, no matter what we felt or what we said, she came anyway.

You know, sometimes ( well, most of the time for me) we forget dates of things unless we celebrate them regularly. Like, anniversaries, birthdays, holidays. Those are rarely forgotten. But general things, like people coming to visit or when we took a walk, things like that are forgotten, easily.

But, until the day I die, I will never....NEVER.... Forget the day Lucy was inserted into my life, and really, the life of my whole family! March 12, 2015! Oh sister, what a day!   ...but, I digress.

Like I have pointed out, she was NOT invited. In fact, when I found out she was coming, ( New Year's Eve Day, 2014 ) I was shocked....stunned....I even cried. A lot! She has a different way of ..... doing things. I wasn't at all ready to deal with her and I was not ready to have my life upended. And believe me, if you have a Lucy in your life you know exactly what I am talking about! When they are finally with you, day in and day out, nothing is ever the same. 

I am not certain one can even prepare. I know I tried, but it seemed futile. I didn't know how she would behave ( other than being greatly disruptive in a "I really am helping you" sort of way.) I knew enough about her, being that we are related, to anticipate that things would be rocky, if not down right unbearable, for a few months. I also know myself well enough to know that if I had no choice about her coming....that it was "my turn" so to speak...that I would, eventually, figure out how to manage with her here. But, BOY! I didn't want to have to make the effort!

I had assistance. ( Thank the Divine Creator! ) Hubby and my youngest daughter were especially supportive of me and understanding of my feelings. They never judged me and patiently allowed AND supported everything I felt, said, and did.

Others were constantly popping up to offer and give support during those days of preparation. I say preparation but it was more like a cleansing!! The others were not going to have to spend the kind of time with her that I would. She was, after all, coming to "help" me. ME ... *sigh*, I couldn't say no to her. I just could not! So I had to prepare. UGH!

So, this preparation, this cleansing, began the 12th of January, 2015. I did this willingly. I didn't like it, but I choose to do it. "It's the best way to get ready" said all my trusted advisors. I knew, deep down, they were right. So, rather than waste my energy in resistance, I went inward. I went to a place of non-resistance, of surrender. 

Now, I know there are many ways to cleanse the body. But I knew, at that time, in order to survive with Lucy I would have to be at the top of my game, so to speak. I would need to be free of anything that would cause her to be rejected. So I opted for what my advisors and helpers knew to be the best way forward.

All this for one tiny, little.....UGH! *sigh*....but I digress.

And it was a cleansing, let me tell you!! 

Have you ever read about a shamanic vision quest where the one seeking a spiritual vision/experience finds reliable guides and teachers...sits down with them in a ritual dedicated for this quest, is offered and then drinks a potion and spends the next many hours vomiting, thereby cleansing the body.  Eventually, once this physical cleansing has subsided, the seeker then receives many visions ranging from emotionally painful ones to total bliss ones? No? Google it!

Well, minus the ritual, and the holy visions ( those came months later ) that was my experience. Again, UGH! 

So, there I was. Deeply invested in this cleansing process, which had me filling my body once every two weeks for six weeks with, what I lovingly refer to as "Fire Medicine". What was anyone thinking when they came up with this???  OMG! I remember feeling that Lucy's arrival couldn't really require I endure this? Really? But, yep, that's what the trusted ones in my life were telling me. And I do trust them...beyond all measure. So, yes, I surrendered.

I accepted the last of the "Fire Medicine" on February 9th ( you'll notice, now, I have managed to remember some dates ) but the effects of the cleansing lasted waaaaay beyond what I had expected and, in fact, lasted a month and a bit past Lucy's arrival. Which, ironically, didn't help me cope with her. And in a "living life in the cracks" sort of way, it hindered! *sigh* 

But, even though the effects were debilitating, I was grateful for a way through. It was very uncomfortable, but it was my way through. And , yes, a proven way through. And I had made it! I had made it with a month to spare before her coming! 

So, there I was, through the cleansing and in a rest period but not feeling well or strong enough to cope with what I figured would be hell breaking loose. "How in the world", I would repeatedly ask myself, "am I going to receive her in this condition?"