When Your World Falls Apart

December 7, 2015

When Your World Falls Apart

December 7, 2015

 

When Your World Falls Apart - Cancer

This time of year can be so hard. Loss of loved ones, sickness and family drama can make you feel like your world has fallen apart and you’ll never be the same again. I thought this would be a good time to share the beginning of my breast cancer story. Because it was at EXACTLY this time of year last year (2014) when my world fell apart and I was doing my best to hold myself together. This is actually part of a sermon I was working on for the UU church in Akron when my world fell apart AGAIN. But I’ll tell you about that later.

Here is my story:

When Warren and I got married back in July of 2000 we were instantly a family with four kids. Our only vacation alone together was the long weekend we escaped to Niagara Falls to get married. That is until last summer. With 3 children out of the house and one working out of state for the summer we decided that we would finally have a vacation together.

The plan was that Warren was to go to Providence Rhode Island to attend and work at the General Assembly for the UU church and I would go along. He worked at the convention center as planned and I either went to some of the sessions, explored bead shops in the area, or worked on my own business out of our hotel room.

When we weren’t doing those things we explored together, saw some fantastic sights and ate some of the best food we’d ever had. It was a working vacation but it was really great. We had a wonderful time, celebrated our 14th anniversary, and relaxed more than we had in a long time.

On one of our final evenings I was in the bathroom when I got a funny feeling. My intuition, guides, or spirit said that there was something I needed to attend to. I listened further and got the impression that it was my left breast and that I needed to “touch here”. The feeling was very specific, I knew EXACTLY where I was to touch, but I brushed it off.

I crawled in bed and the feeling came again. VERY strongly. Touch here. And so I did. In my left breast I found a lump the size of a largish pea.

This was on June 27th. I had just had a mammogram on June 5th. Just 22 days before. And the results were good. “All clear”.

I didn’t panic or overly fret. I figured it could be any number of things but it wasn’t cancer. No one in my family had ever had breast cancer so I was good.

The next couple of weeks were filled with uncertainty. No one was quite sure what it was. A cyst? Nope. A needle biopsy came back negative for cancer but with abnormal cells. So I had it removed – just so I didn’t have to worry about it. Just a tiny dent in my skin because it was close to the surface. Easy surgery and back on my feet within a few days. No big deal.

I got a call about a week after my lumpectomy from the surgeon. He said, “I’m really sorry but it is cancer.”  My reply?

“Well, that’s disappointing.”

The next couple of months were a roller coaster. Did I want a mastectomy? Reconstruction? The breast reduction I’d always fantasized and half joked about? Would there be chemo? Radiation? More surgery?

Most of it was up to me but I had no idea what I was doing. I had no way of knowing what the outcomes of any of those decisions would be and because every woman is different and every cancer is different no one in the medical community could tell me with any certainty either.

I had surgery again along with the removal of several lymph nodes. This surgery took more out of me and I had a rough few weeks. Then Warren had surgery (because he had been diagnosed with prostate cancer just a little over a month before I found the lump) and I got an infection. I was sick, hurting and caring for him. It was rough.

That is where our community came in. Church, family, and friends. They helped make it better with meals and cards. With the meals and leftovers I didn’t cook for a solid two weeks and was able to get both of us back on our feet. We both got many get well cards and I taped them to the front of the fridge where we could see them multiple times a day. I let myself feel the love in those cards and it gave me strength.

 

Breast Cancer Radiation Treatment Survival Tips

Next up was radiation. I dodged a big old bullet when I didn’t need chemo but radiation was it’s own special kind of hell. Burned skin that peeled off in sheets when I put cream on, open wounds, cracking skin, lots of pain. I was miserable.

Really, really miserable.

But I tried my best to not make everyone else around me miserable. So I let my bawdy, rowdy sense of humor carry me through.

One of the things that bothered me early on was constantly getting undressed for strangers. Hey, Mormon girls are taught to be modest and I had been a Mormon girl for a long time (I left the church in 1998). So it was hard for me.

 

Random Thoughts from Camp Breast Cancer

I posted this on my facebook wall.

I also started saying that I wanted Mardi Gras beads if I was going to have to keep showing my boobs.

 

Breast Cancer Radiation Treatment Survival Tips

I was in treatment during my birthday (12/17) and gave away little bags of “penny” candy with a super ball and a plastic cockroach. For days the techs left plastic cockroaches around to scare one another and even their families. I played tricks on some of my medical team and made them laugh. They happily returned the favor. It helped them and me both I think.

 

When Your World Falls Apart - Cancer

And I got beads!

Thanks to Stewart’s Caring Place I discovered Reiki and it was during one of my treatments there that my guides, intuition or spirit spoke to me again.

As the Reiki master was doing what she does I started to drift off. I’m not sure if I actually fell asleep but here is what happened.

I walked into a little underground grotto. It was dark and there was a fire in the middle. I walked closer to the fire and I saw a woman. I was given to understand that this woman was my mother. Not my earthly mother but my spiritual mother. THE Goddess.

She took me in her arms, held me close and rocked me. I could hear her heart beating and feel the warmth of her. She stroked my hair and told me that she loved me that she was sorry that I had to go through such a hard time but I was going to be OK. I fell asleep in her arms.

When I awoke she wasn’t there and I started to cry. (I started to cry in real life too.)

Out of the shadows came many other women that I hadn’t noticed before. All different shapes and sizes. All dressed differently. They surrounded me, hugged me and comforted me. They all told me that they loved me and that I was going to be OK.

I woke up and knew two things. I was loved beyond measure and that I was going to be OK.

I can’t begin to tell you how much strength and peace I felt after that one experience. It carried me the rest of the way through treatment and even to this day I feel so strongly that other women are my sisters and that we are here to love and support one another. I feel such a close connection to all that is divine and feminine.

And then.

A month after I finished my final radiation treatment on 12/19/2014 my mother was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia. While my mother and I aren’t close it was hard to watch her fight for her life – especially after what I had just been through . I remember thinking “How can this happen? How can I survive this? THIS might be the thing that breaks me forever.”

Throw in a totally dysfunctional family dynamic and the situation was nearly unbearable. I was weak, tired, still hurting, still processing what I’d been through and then totally worried about my mother. It was all-consuming and totally overwhelming. The day I was supposed to deliver the portion of this post as a sermon I was in West Virginia. My mother had coded and was on a ventilator and I was almost certain I was going to lose her.

So what do I want to share with you? What would I like you to understand from what I’ve written here today?

It’s just this.

You will do it. You have done it. You can do it. 

Close your eyes and think back to the times your world has fallen apart. You’ve been there. More than once, likely.

You got through it.

Your world will fall apart again in the future. It’s the price we pay for being here. Lots of happiness and joy and also times of utter destruction.

You will get through it.

Gather your people for support.

Church, friends, family and professionals. Get your wagons in a circle and prepare to do what needs doing.

Find ways to cope. Humor, art, writing, cooking, exercise – whatever works for you and helps you deal with the hard things in life.

Listen. Listen to your heart, your spirit, the universe. Listen for guidance, comfort, gratitude and peace.

Most importantly, take care of you. Do small, nice things for yourself. Treat yourself extra special. Take time to do the things that give you strength.

I love each and every one of you and I know that when your world falls apart you will be able to get through it. It won’t be easy, it won’t be fun, and it probably won’t happen over night but you can do it. I believe in you.

May this holiday season find you wrapped in self-love, kindness and generosity and may the season be gentle if you are struggling.

 

Bright Blessings,

Vicki

 

 

 

 

Vicki O'Dell

All posts
  • gdevoid December 9, 2015 at 10:37 am

    You are going to be OK. I know it. I also had a voice talking to me in February 2011, when I was dying. I listened, I acted on that Voice, and I survived adenocarcinoma. I had three operations in the span of a month, and finished my dissertation eight hours before the last operation. My mentor had assured me that if I did not survive (and it was touch and go), I would receive my Ph.D. posthumously. I went under anesthesia knowing my work would be published.

    From there I went into the worst depression imaginable. I was suicidal with suicide not being an option (I mean, suicide solves NOTHING, and you are left on the other side of the veil not being able to do anything about it). A friend convinced me to tell my doctor. I found the right medications. Last February, I found the healer for whom I was looking for the last half century. He is one of the best Reiki masters in the world, and I am not exaggerating. He healed me. I have not had a suicidal thought since he spent two minutes with me. I have lost 38 pounds. I can walk as far as I want after being in a wheelchair for months after my 2nd ankle fusion (3 years to heal) and a dozen other ankle operations. This is the culmination of my visit to the other side of the veil that I made 50 years ago when I died on the operating table while surgeons desperately tried to save my right leg. They did. The doctors said I would keep the leg after I healed from the bone infection, but never walk again, having to spend my life in a wheelchair.

    Remembering what the light beings told me, I did not listen to the doctors. I walked three weeks later after stomping my foot and re-breaking the bones. I told no one. I walked on my broken ankle until it healed. For decades, I told no one. Now? I don’t care if people believe me.

    Listen to that small, quiet voice…always! It has saved my eyesight, my mobility, my life. Pray! Pray because it works. But pray for what is best for you. I had a choice when I was fifteen, come back to corporeality in the Earth, or go on. Obviously, I chose to come back, but it was only with the guarantees that I was given…all which have come true.

    So I am telling you, Vicki, that voice that said you would be OK is one that does not lie.

    Enjoy your holidays no matter what is going on in your life.

    • Vicki O'Dell December 10, 2015 at 10:14 am

      Oh, Gail. Thank you for sharing this. What an amazing journey you have been on!
      I admire your fortitude and stubbornness. Because lets face it, some days only sheer stubbornness is what gets us through.
      Thank you for the lessons in your story. You are incredible!
      xoxo Vicki

  • Ingrid December 8, 2015 at 8:58 am

    Gracias Vicki por compartir tu experiencia con nosotras. Llegó al fondo de mi alma. Se exactamente de lo que estás hablando. Recibe un fuerte abrazo desde Venezuela.

    • Vicki O'Dell December 10, 2015 at 10:17 am

      Gracias Ingrid,
      Agradezco tu comentario. Envío un gran abrazo de su hermana en Ohio USA.
      Vicki ♥

  • Christine O December 7, 2015 at 7:37 pm

    Many thanks for touching mine and many other special people’s hearts . This means more than you know. I’ve lost six family members (Dad, three uncles, an aunt, and Grandma) and the friend I was going to grow old with, all in the span of two-months and 12 days (forgive me for counting, but it’s like knitting and beading….you count). As we approach the holidays, I brace myself for any unknow triggers as I move forward from the depression that came with all of this (lost hubby 9 years ago after caring for him and his TBI 10 years). Somehow I hope this coming year and turning the big “5-0” brings the renewal in life. Your words are like honey to my heart, knowing that indeed we’ll get through it. Thank You, Vicki! <3 Blessings to you and abundant health!

    • Vicki O'Dell December 10, 2015 at 10:20 am

      Oh, Christine. My heart breaks for you. I cannot imagine what you are dealing with.
      Know that there are people out here in the world who love you and be very kind to yourself. I call it “extreme self care”.
      I hope that somehow you find much to be thankful for this holiday season in spite of all of the pain. I hope that the season will be gentle with you.
      Brightest Blessings, love, and strength to you, dear one.
      Vicki

      • Christine O December 10, 2015 at 8:01 pm

        Oh dear! I meant to say two Years and 12 days…sorry!
        Many thanks for your heartwarming thoughts, and continued prayers for everyone here.

        • Vicki O'Dell December 11, 2015 at 2:20 pm

          That is still a lot to deal with Christine. Be good to you.

  • Carol December 7, 2015 at 6:05 pm

    I am so humbled that you are able to share this beautiful story. You went through some very tough times and found remarkable resilience. I am in awe and hope that I can summon up that kind of courage if/when I need it. And I hope you will be there to remind me that I can do it! Thank you for your candor, honesty, and friendship. <3

    • Vicki O'Dell December 10, 2015 at 10:22 am

      Carol,
      Thank you for your comment. I’m sure you’ve already had to deal with some pretty tough times and you’ve gotten through them. I’m certain that you could do it again. And luckily, we know one another IRL and I can be there to lend a hand. 🙂
      Bright Blessings, Vicki

  • Denise Penn December 7, 2015 at 5:02 pm

    Have no words to express the gratitude I feel for this post. Hugs!

    • Vicki O'Dell December 7, 2015 at 5:44 pm

      Awww, Thank you Denise. ♥♥♥

  • Pamela Jenewein December 7, 2015 at 4:44 pm

    Love you too… ((((HUGS))))) Woman Power!!! Stay strong! *fist bumps*

    • Vicki O'Dell December 7, 2015 at 5:42 pm

      *fist bumps* right back at you!
      And hugs too! 🙂

  • Mandy December 7, 2015 at 4:19 pm

    Wonderful, honest, from the heart post. Just what I needed today.

    • Vicki O'Dell December 7, 2015 at 5:41 pm

      I’m happy I was able to provide what you needed Mandy.
      Bright Blessings,
      V

  • Pam December 7, 2015 at 2:10 pm

    Thank you so much for these loving and inspiring works.

    • Vicki O'Dell December 7, 2015 at 5:40 pm

      Thank you Pam for reading and commenting.
      That means the world to me. Really.
      xoxo V

  • barbaramoore28 December 7, 2015 at 1:05 pm

    Vicki, you are a very strong woman and I admire you so much for the grace with which you handled all of the mess that life dumped on you. If you are a strong person you can do it, you do have support, you are worth it! 🙂

    • Vicki O'Dell December 7, 2015 at 5:39 pm

      Thanks Barbara. We can all do it! ♥

      • gdevoid December 11, 2015 at 11:04 am

        You are stubborn as a child, but the same characteristic is known as persistence when you are an adult. That’s what the P in Ph.D. stands for, aka Post Hold Digger. LOL

      • gdevoid December 11, 2015 at 11:06 am

        Abrazos desde Boscawen , NH , también .

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