Wait, another cancer post?!? Why yes; it’s center stage lately, like it or not. Not, obviously.
I have been joking that I’ve been following classic improv rules with a “Yes, And…” policy toward cancer.
When the first person asked if she could add me to her prayer circle’s list, my response was, “Yes, absolutely, please do!” But why stop there? Since then I’ve made sure to update my deeply faithful Zumba teacher, who requested that I text her the time of my surgery so that she could cover me in prayer during the procedure; my family members, including my sister’s church choir, who presumably made their requests tunefully; my yoga teacher, who’s deeply in touch with prana, the life force; and a psychic I know who has conversations with Spirit. I appreciate all supplications on my behalf.
But I’m not going to just sit back and let y’all do all the work. One of the things I tried to drill into the girls as they were growing up is that you have to ask for what you want in your life, and to that end, I have been manifesting. Hard. This actually started before the colonoscopy. Remember how I said recently that I’m frequently singing while biking? Well, even before I actually had the colonoscopy, I had a spooky vibe that things weren’t quite right, and so one of the songs that I’d sing was a short earworm song that I’d heard on an Instagram post (if I could have found it again, I would have linked it) which goes, “Every single cell inside my body/Every single cell is healthy and well/I’m so glad that every single cell/In my body is healthy and well…”
Later, when this song was manifestly disproven by the presence of unhealthy cells within my colon, I switched to a different song that I made up myself, which went: “Keep it contained, no need for chemo/Lee’s gonna cut it all out, no need to radiate/And all that you’ll see, as a symptom of cancer/is precipitous weight loss, but like, in a cute way./And they’ll say, “Oooh-oooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-oooh, cancer looks good on you-hoo….” I sang this song so much that, if you hung out with me, there’s a good chance that I made you listen to me sing it, and most people were extremely tolerant and patient with me (at one point I refashioned the “healthy and well” tune with new lyrics, “people are so nice when you’ve got cancer” because it is so true). I basically could not restrain myself from singing my anti-cancer manifestation song multiple times throughout the day. Before we got to Madison, WI, Cute W said, “Do not sing that song to M. She will not like it.” And I didn’t fully believe him, because I thought it was so very catchy. But later I mentioned the song in front of M, which meant that she insisted that I sing it, and Cute W was absolutely correct: she hated it. She finds absolutely nothing charming or amusing about her mother having cancer. I should have listened to Cute W and understood that, but her reaction put a damper on my singing for about half a day.
Along with my manifestation jingle, during that first weekend when I thought that Death Might Be Imminent, I felt like I needed to, as I’ve always advised the daughters, ask for what I wanted. I had a vague recollection that there was some time within the last few months when I’d said that I am more curious than afraid about death. But then I wondered, was it a mistake to have said that? And so at one point I took a moment to look up, in the general direction of God/The Universe/My Angels/My Spirit Team and said out loud, “I’d just like to clarify that while I did say that stuff about death, I am in no way ready for death. I like my life very much, and I feel like I do a good job of appreciating this mortal coil, and I’m trying to contribute to the other human beings around me, and I have a lot of things that I would like to experience in this particular here and now, so in case that’s been in any way unclear, I would prefer not to die anytime soon.” I mean, did it help anything to say that out loud? Perhaps not, but I am Yes, And-ing my way through cancer, and I figure that it can’t hurt!
If you think I might be stopping there with the Yes, And, … au contraire!
You may recall that I’ve been meditating off and on for years now, and I use a free app, Insight Timer, for my meditations. The app includes a massive variety, and so my recent playlist has been weirdly specific, including meditations like:
- “Healing Cancer During Sleep”
- “Meditation To Prepare For Surgery”
- “Healing After Surgery: Immediate Post-Op Support”
- “Managing Pain”
- “Post Surgery Meditation: Trusting Your Body’s Healing Wisdom”
- “Deep Sleep Meditation With Affirmations: Radiant Health, Healing, & Happiness”
- “Post Surgery Meditation for Rest And Recovery”
I cannot express how helpful these meditations have been. Listen, if you’re going to go into it rolling your eyes about meditation being a bunch of woo-woo crap, obviously, you’ll hate it. But let me tell you: when I was still brain-foggy from pain medications, lying in a bright-white hospital room with a roommate who was moaning about her escalating pain level, wearing my headphones that double as an eye mask and listening to someone soothingly croon, “You did it, you made it through, the hardest part is behind you… all you need to do is breathe… resting is healing, breathing is healing….” was exactly perfectly perfect. On a scale of 1 to 10, 3 gazillion and 8.
And speaking of playlists, did you know that Spotify has anti-cancer playlists? These are not in any way entertaining, but when I am not actively listening to anything else, I am happy to play some healing binaural vibrations, because I am all about Yes, And. I will give it a shot.
But those tracks were absolutely too boring for the hospital, so when I wasn’t listening to a meditation, I often switched to my own mellow and gentle yoga playlist instead. My brain was entirely too mushy for the audiobooks I’d borrowed, but it was always nice to have an alternative to hospital beeping.
And the Yes, And list goes on! Have you heard of Forest Bathing? Basically, there’s actual scientific evidence that says that hanging out among trees increases your body’s cancer-killing cells. A walk in some woods? Immediately, that sounded like a fantastic idea. I took out a book on forest bathing, and if I absolutely followed the “rules,” I would not even have my phone with me, but since I am exceptionally good at getting lost and I cannot resist taking pictures of beauty, I brought along my phone and took some pictures of my autumn adventures communing with the trees. This tree in particular, found along the dirtbike paths by Central Park, feels like a friend that I will want to keep visiting.
I don’t know if my cancer-killing cells multiplied, but I took some beautiful walks.
And sometimes I just lay down in the fallen leaves and hoped that it was as medicinal as it felt.
According to the forest bathing studies, you can mimic some of the effects just by being in a room where cypress oil is being diffused. Which is why, even now, at my computer, it smells like I’m in a cypress forest right now.
On a bike ride around the Stockade I popped into Alchemy Wellness to see if they had anything to add to my Yes, And series. Kareema immediately showed me a series of serious cleansing teas. At the time, I was a little disappointed, hoping that maybe she’d recommend a pretty crystal to hang onto while I was in the hospital. But I dutifully swapped in the fancy tea for my usual morning dandelion tea, and maybe it helped; who knows? But the next tea in the cleansing series is specifically about lymphatic drainage, and since I have at least one lymph node that’s cancerous, I took a pause, because maybe I want them to stay clogged for now.
Then, right before my surgery, Instagram served up a few different woo-woo posts about how the full moon was happening just before my surgery was a “releasing moon,” and this was the perfect time to “release what no longer serves you.” Okay, I’m not much of an astrology girl (my general theory is to take it when it says good things and ignore it when I don’t like the message), but the concept of a releasing full moon gave me a little boost that surely The Universe was on my side during this journey to “release” a cancerous tumor and part of my colon. Sounds good to me! Then I noticed that Reflective Harmony, a place I’d been meaning to visit (my yoga teacher also teaches there), was hosting a guided meditation for release and renewal on the morning of my surgery prep. I was like: sign me up. I went and pretty much cried my way through the meditation, and before I left, I bought one pretty serpentine stone that seemed appropriate for my situation.
Amid all this Yes, And stuff, don’t think that I’m the only one prone to excess. If pure kindness could kill cancer, my family and friends would have cured me with their visits, treats and gifts.
Everyone has been so kind, and we are super-fortunate to have so much support. We’re lucky to have jobs with people who are understanding, and to have enough insurance and money that we’re not in fiscal crisis mode. I am so very lucky to be married to a guy who makes dinner, cleans up afterward, and then settles on the sofa to rub my feet. My two grown daughters are thriving, plus they have vastly increased their video and text check-ins since the diagnosis. My life is charmed in so many ways that it seems almost excessive that I want fantastic health, too. But I’m a Yes, And kind of gal.
