This is not the blog I planned to write, want to write, or find easy to write. But it is the one I must write, as it is my journey. I have always been open about my outer and inner world (it helps me and, I hope, some of you as well), and I trust this next chapter will be no different.
So, to the heart of it: Three weeks ago, Eric and I got the news that I have metastatic cancer in my abdominal lining. You can imagine our shock upon hearing this. Despite undergoing every available imaging test and multiple biopsies, we still haven’t located the source nor determined the extent of the cancer. The one thing we know for sure, as things stand today, is that we simply don’t know more. (You can find the backstory and updates on my Caring Bridge Site as I’d rather not continually address those questions.)
These past few weeks have been brutal. I’ve gone from shock to terror to gratitude to heartache — and everything in between — sometimes in a matter of minutes. I am so grateful for my years of meditation practice, which now serve as my lifeline, helping me mindfully ride each emotional wave. I am blessed with an incredible community of family and friends who sprang into action when I was still stunned and who remain committed to getting me the best possible medical care.
I’m also blessed with spiritual and energy-leaning friends who have stepped in with guided visualizations, energy clearing, and other eastern-based practices. Prayer, meditation, and nature — my trifecta of tools during the grief of losing my parents and brother — remain front and center in my life.
And I’ve been showered with love, strength, blessings, healing thoughts, and more. There can never be too much of that. I breathe in every single one with gratitude.
I am a new member of the cancer club. I have much to learn from those of you who have walked this scary path. And like menopause, I know there is a wide spectrum of experiences. Here is what I’ve already learned in my fast-track course:
1. Cancer has no prejudice.
A simple truth someone shared with Eric.
2. My attention must be safeguarded.
It takes focused, intentional effort to manage my mind’s natural catastrophic tendencies. I’ve chosen to stay off the internet, which can be just as catastrophic — especially in this space of “not knowing” what I’m facing. I try to replace fear-based thoughts with healing-centered ones and a steadfast belief that I will come through this. Even the title of this blog reflects that: I am embracing healing of my illness, not simply the illness itself.
3. I am extra sensitive.
I’ve always been an empath, but now my mind and body are acutely sensitive to energy and words. I’m quickly learning what nourishes me (love, support, prayers, strength) and what doesn’t (emotional reactions, challenging cancer stories, too many questions, or unsolicited advice (even if well-meant). Other people’s fear, anxiety, sorrow — and especially pity — only compound my own. Deep listening and quiet presence are what sustain me.
4. My health is my #1 priority.
Out of necessity, I’ve begun to limit external stressors, including news (a silver lining!), caregiving, and my usual role of emotionally supporting others. These come naturally to me. But right now, I need all my energy for my own healing and emotions.
5. I will embrace this challenge of my literal middle.
I am committed to meeting this difficult life chapter with as much presence and compassion as I can. Eric was amazed at how quickly I accepted my diagnosis. Of course I still have moments of sheer terror and deep sorrow. When they come, I don’t feed them with more thoughts. I acknowledge them, feel them, and let them pass. And when I need support, I ask for it.
I have no illusions that this will be an easy road. But I intend to face it head-on, and with the knowing that I am not alone; I am held by the divine, my ancestors, and my extraordinary community of family, friends, and fellow seekers.
I plan to continue writing about my healing journey and about the many facets of midlife. I am not only my diagnosis. I am also a wife, mother, daughter-in-law, author, speaker, meditator, and a woman dedicated to embracing the middle — who happens to have cancer at the moment.
With love,
~Shayna