Heard Your Breath

Posted: August 21st, 2010 | Author: | Filed under: Uncategorized | 3 Comments »

    Thursday afternoon, August 19th, the day following my Lumpectomy, but which was originally to have been the date of my mastectomy, I sat down to write this blog piece. I had full intentions of relaying some of the funny surgical stories that ensued at the hospital.

    I stared at a blank white screen, waiting to hear and feel the flow of my quirky imagination begin. Instead, within moments I felt my face cradled in my hands, cupping warm tears. And, in that exact moment, all I could hear was the collective breath of every single human being.
    Wisely, I touched the blank screen, quietly smiled and turned off the computer. I knew I wasn’t ready to write yet.
    Later that evening my breast surgeon called. His voice was filled with joy, with excitement, he said, “You have zero cancer cells …” The rest of what he said I couldn’t tell you, because I was so relieved I heard nothing more than the joy in his voice.
    I will forever be grateful to Dr W’s diligence. His willingness to scrutinize my medical file one last time saved me and my village potentially a years worth of one rough road. Dr W has said he’ll be on my medical team ’till I’m 101, I’m taking him up on his word. Implicit trust, it’s not easily earned, he has earned mine.
    So, yes, upon hanging up the phone with Dr W, of course, the phone lines turned red hot with the good news across the United States of America. I yapped into the wee hours with friends and loved ones.
    I slept most of Friday during the day. Late Friday afternoon, once again, I sat myself down to write about the funny surgical stories … And, again, I found my face cradled in my hands, cupping warm tears. And again, all I could hear was the collective breath of every single human being.
    This time, instead of tuning out with a book, I did a Reiki meditation session. The tears flowed freely. I did not try to analyze them (yes, I’m capable of NOT analyzing everything!) — I just let them flow. The Reiki was for myself, yet I still heard the collective breath in the background. Once the meditation session was done I fell into a deep sleep, a sleep so deep that upon awakening, I didn’t know if I was a man or a woman, what century I was in, or even who I was. It was my cat, Billy Boy, touching my face with his paw that re-grounded my reality.
    As he purred I slowly drifted back. I came to realize that my tears were a release of not only built up stress, but also of joy. Joy for survival and having side-stepped cancer. Then Billy yawned and touched my nose with his front paw, I came to understand another sliver of what my tears had been comprised of.

    Last night, before reading myself to sleep with a good book, I Googled for the world’s current population numbers. It is over six billion.
    At this very exact moment in time, six point blah blah billion human beings have taken a breath. You are one of those breaths that I have repeatedly heard these past couple of days. At first this phenomenon felt overwhelming and it made no sense to me. But now it does. A cat’s paw on my nose helped me remember that we are all interwoven in consciousness, like a fabric. We are all a part of one another, in every breath ever taken — long before us and long after us.
    I know that for the rest of my life my medical team will be on the hunt for anymore possible beginnings of cancer within my body. This is forever more a fact, a war, in my life. Cancer threw me a knuckle ball and I got to smack it out of the park this time.
    You will never know how deeply thankful I am for your support. Yes, you. I can’t even begin to thank every single person on my medical team and in my village for your support, kindness, laughter and love. You have made this journey bearable and downright fun. A zillion-gajillion blessings to you.
    In closing, back to the last sliver of ingredients of my tears … Now, when a spontaneous tear flows, they are no longer filled with delayed stress. They are now filled with a humbled and thankful reverence, I get to survive.  I will live and celebrate each day of my life with the reverence of a survivor, for all of the beautiful souls who did not get to beat cancer.
    I am honored to have heard your breath today. I am honored to live life fully. Thank you.

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3 Comments on “Heard Your Breath”

  1. 1 CrazyYarnHarlot said at 8:23 pm on August 22nd, 2010:

    I have also let the tears flow in total joy over this news. I am so beyond grateful that I will continue to have the love of my friend for a very long time. I love you Cherie. Today, Tomorrow and for all the tomorrows I have.

    Thank you for being here, and for staying.

  2. 2 Kaiku said at 8:47 pm on August 22nd, 2010:

    I honor the Divine Breath Within you…and I am ever grateful to call you Friend and sister. This leg of your healing journey has been blessed with an award winning team and blog that has touched the lives of many. This is not the end but a fork in the road that will take you to the next challenge that you can share. There are many others who have lost hope, and more who have surrendered to their illnesses. These individuals will need your wit, your candor and unmitigated penmanship to lift them up, dust them off and send them forward in their fight to survive. May your knees gain strength to stand steadfast and strong, and your heart guide you without logic getting too much in the way. Take that one baby step forward, and the Universe will take two toward you. Let the drum of your heart allow Spirit's Voice to speak.

    Love you Boo!

  3. 3 Chérie said at 6:15 pm on August 23rd, 2010:

    Both of you Idiotsticks moved me to tears today with what each of you wrote, thanks a lot! Actually, sincerely thank you by 6 point blah blah billion lots!