Happy New Year!!!

Happy New Year to all my friends and family:) May this coming year help you move towards your goals while leaving behind the hindrances of the past. Let the past teach you but not hinder you:) Enjoy the present and hope for a good future.

Some of my friends have gone through drastic transitions this year, some of my friends have lost loved ones and are in mourning, while others are celebrating the gift of new life:) I just came out of a herxheimer reaction a few minutes ago, however my focus is on this wonderful new year and all its possibilities. I have a few new year resolutions, like: write and read more, but I’m not overly obsessed with issues that seem unrealistic to me. Simple is better.

Before I move forward I must say “I’m sorry” to all and any of you that I may have offended at any point in my life, most likely without intention, most likely from sheer ignorance, and at times out of a defensive emotional approach in order to protect myself.  Please forgive me.

This new year, I’m sure I’ll continue my struggle in finding the truth, I’ll have lots more questions, even fewer answers, but I will not lack in collecting more experience.

May God bless you and I wish you all the best.

Happy New Year!

Carmen the…

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First picture; left to right, me in my second or third grade, clearly uncomfortable:)

Second picture; Chet and I on our wedding day. The malnourishment made me light:)

Third picture; my family as of last week, Chet, Merrill, Alex and Meleah:)

Writing about one self its a bit deceiving; you’re either too biased or too hard on yourself and overall one sided.

I’ve had a few nick-names so its hard to pick just one. Is it Carmen the Dreamer, the Writer, the Fighter, the Captain or the Ice Queen? It’s all of them, I suppose.

Born the first of twelve siblings, my life was both wonderful and hard. My birth wasn’t without its challenges. Shots of Vit. D and Iron for the first year or so, along other health issues somehow gave the doctor the right to pressure my mother into killing me. It wasn’t just my health issues that triggered such a decision but compiled to that it was his deep hatered towards christians. You see, I was a seedling of a very hated group of people in my part of the world at the time and I was not alone. In an atheistic world, being born a Christian was dangerous, and we have the scars to prove it.

A “sensitive soul”, with an over-developed ability or gift of empathy I collected other’s pain in my heart as if my life depended on it. The society’s abuse towards us made sense to me- we were a moral danger to a movement that thrived on egocentricity and cruelty. But our father’s abuse towards us never made sense to me. In times when one must stick with each other in an environment called “home”, meaning “safe”, he became our number one enemy, burning all my ideologies on “safe home” right out of my heart. However, beyond reasons I couldn’t understand and logic I couldn’t explain, except to call it hope, with every rare smile, joke or laughter my father had, a fragile hope seed grew in my heart “maybe he’ll change”. The hope lasted no longer than mere fragments of time until the next wave of darkness took a hold of him. Books, that’s where I found my refuge, not church, society or social interactions. That’s where I could dream freely and imagine the world I wanted to live in. I think I was a bit of a loner, yet with a great deal of charisma.

Being the oldest, I worked constantly skipping on childhood and adolescence all together.

Right after high school, I began working twelve hours shifts, seven days a week at an ice-cream and soda-pop kiosk, very popular at the time. I was very greatful for my $6 a month salary, it was similar to my father’s salary. I was not allowed to go to collage, due to my gender and lack of money, something that made me very bitter at the time.

God to me was just another tyrant figure, unhappy, abusive, not nice at all, yet someone I kept on hearing that somehow “loved me.” I wanted nothing to do with this God but didn’t dare communicate that to my parents. A missionary changed all that. He brought along with him stories of a very powerful and nice God, similar to Jesus in the New Testament (the church loved the mean and angry Old Testament God) and I fell in love for the very first time with God. Willingly, I wanted to have a relationship with this new image of God, not the one in the church. I began a new walk, a happy and light walk with God.

After the 1989 fall of communism revolution in most of the Estern European block, charitable help came into the country in the form of clothes, shoes, and monthly food supplies. “If I ever get rich, I’ll do the same.” A prayer shot up to the heavens from a thankful heart and put in practice soon after.

In 1993 I was rescued by this super handsome and tall young man, Chet, who was part of a missionary team from America. The engagement and wedding was a big source of gossip and wonder. We married on August 15th, in Romania. A very unusual wedding since the bride and groom couldn’t talk to each other:) Leaving Romania and coming to America on October 15th, was one of the most stressful things I lived through. Not because of Chet, my new husband, but everything else: leaving my family, who I no longer could protect, entering a new land with new traditions I din’t understand and no one familiar to communicate with. Halloween was a weird and dark first impression of American holidays, only the small kids dressed in cute costumes brought a smile to my face, all other gore did not. My parents-in-law were a hugeeeeee support during that time.

I had my first born, Merrill, in 1995, followed quickly by my second, Meleah, in 1996 and then our surprise, Alex, in 1993, (I was pregnant with Alex when I flew back to Romania to see Fanu in the hospital, but I did not know I was pregnant). I had a few jobs: babysitting, sells rep at the Gap, preschool teacher, writer, real-estate agent, home design and massage therapist. I’ve never been more fulfilled in my work field, like when I’m writing.

Most of you know that in January of 2014, I fell ill, an illness that almost took my life and I’m still fighting it, getting better each day, with the occasional relapses, which are still far too often than I like to admit.

I’m very happy now, even if in pain most days. Every day I’m greatful to God for allowing me another day on this wonderful planet and among my loved ones. Life is very normal, and calm (I need to keep it calm and stress-free) and mundane but I love it:) Thank you God for my life:)

 

Fanu cel Puternic

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1991-2002

Moartea ne intilneste pe toti la un moment dat, si conteaza cum ii raspundem.

Fanu, scurt pentru Stefan, a fost ultimul baiat si numarul unsprezece in rindul clanului nostru. A intrat in lumea asta in Decembrie 1991 si a plecat mult prea curind din mijlocul nostru.

Fanu era o fire blinda si foarte darnica. Ochii lui mari si caprui erau plini de expresie si tenul deschis era parca de portelan. In aceste detalii a semanat mult cu Alin. Datorita virstelor apropiate dintre ei, Fanu si Alex petreceau mult timp impreauna, jucindu-se cu masinute sau fotbal in curtea apartamentului. O fire competitiva, Fanu lupta mult sa cistige, dornic de a deveni cel mai bun. Tot odata visa mult cum sa ajute cind pe unul cind pe altul. Copilaria lui a fost cit de cit normala, desi un pic umbrita de cruzimea tatalui. Zimbea usor, ridea cu pofta si ii placea glumele.

In primavara anului 2002, Februarie mai exact, Fanu a inceput sa aibe dureri de cap izolindu-se de ceilalti si evadind lumina. Simultan avea febra si dureri in partea temporala din stinga. Mama la dus la clinica de familie, unde fara sa-i faca examin la pus pe tratament, tratament care nu l-a ajutat. A fost dus la spital si internat doua saptamini, unde a facut antibiotic injectabil zilnic, ca tratament. Odata inapoi acasa Fanu sa simtit un pic mai bine pe o perioada temporara de doua saptamini, dupa care febra si durerea temporala a revenit cu o forta si mai mare. Mama cu Delia l-au dus la urgenta, dar nu l-au internat, in schimb l-au trimis la spitalul de boli infectioase. Acolo au asteptat ceva timp, cu Fanu pe o targa plingind in dureri. Cind a venit medicul, care-l suspecta de meningita, a observat ca Fanu avea o semipareza pe partea stinga si l-a trimis direct la Timisoara. A chemat ambulanta si a fost transferat in aceeasi zi la spitalul de la Padurea Verde in Timisoara. Era Martie. La Timisoara a fost transferat la citeva spitale, multe teste sau facut, si multe diagnosticuri sau schimbat, dar in general dupa o tomografie la sectia de neurologie, medicii si-au dat seama ca e grav si fara sperante.

Fanu si Alin se mai plimbau prin curtea spitalului la inceput, ori de cite ori se vizitau, dar in termen de citeva saptamini Fanu a paralizat, nu a mai putut sa inghita sau sa vorbeasc. Era pe transfuzie non-stop si comunica prin notitele care le scria. (Exemplu sus in fotografie). Mama mea a stat linga Fanu zi si noapte, si mergea sa se odihneasca din cind in cind, si numai daca era acolo ori Delia ori Alin. Tata, care veni-se in vizita in America pentru prima data, a trebuit sa-si taie concediu si impreuna ne-am intors in Romania. Cind l-am vazut pe Fanu era de nerecunoscut, toti muschii ii disparu-se si era numai piele si os. Ii vedeam forma inimii cum ii batea sub pielea subtire. Cu citeva saptamini inainte de a muri ia spus mamei, scriind, ca el va muri. Plina de durere in suflet mama i-a raspuns ca nu-i adevarat. A treia oara, Fanu a insistat.

“Mama, eu am sa mor. Te rog deschide usa.” Si mama ii deshidea cind usa de la baie cind cea de la salon.

“Nu mama, usa asta.” Si Fanu a aratat spre tavan.

“Fanule, ala e tavanul, nu usa.”

“Ba da, mama, e o scara cu doi ingeri care asteapta si o usa inchisa in fata scarii. Te rog deschide usa ca sa plec.” Si mama si-a dat seama atunci ca se apropie timpul dar inca nu putea realiza adevarul. De fapt nici unul din noi nu am putut realiza adevarul. Fanu a murit in noaptea de 27 Mai, cu Alin la capul lui si a venit acasa numai in sicriu unde fratii il asteptau indurera-ti. Sefa spitalului a cerut permisiune pentru autopsie, si a gasit diferite tipuri de cancer, cancer care ea nu a mai vazut pina atunci (numai pe coloana vertebrala a gasit patru tipuri de cancer diferit) si a trimis multe probe in Franta pentru analize. Nu am primit nici o veste inapoit. Dar ea a recomandat ca toti sa faca niste analize de plamini (nu stiu exact detaliile). Dupa inmormintare, (31 Mai) o inmormintare plina de colegii de clasa atit a lui Fanu, dar si cit a lui Alex si Oana, si directoarea Scolii Generale Numarul 1, doamna Chintuan, mama sa mutat la Vilcele permanent unde l-a jelit mult pe Fanu.

Fanule, nu te vom uita niciodata. Dar in acela-si timp sintem bucurosi ca nu mai sufera, si ca nu mai are dureri. Ii multumesc Bunului Dumenzeu pentru privilejiul de a-l avea pe Fanu in viata noastra, chiar daca pentru o perioada scurta de timp. Ii multumesc ca la impartit cu noi o perioada de timp:) Intr-o buna zi ne vom revedea, dar nu inca.

P.S Un an mai tirziu, Alin a avut aceleasi simptome si ne-a intristat pe toti, nedornici sa pierdem un alt frate. I-au gasit o formatiune tumorala dar nu canceroasa, in sfenoid, cit un virf de deget mare, format din cauza stresului si a prafului/poluarii. Operatia facuta la Bucuresti a fost plina de succes:)

Domane, iti multumesc pentru fratii si surorile mele, pentru timpul petrecut impreuna, si de memoriile frumoase care le am (avem) cu Fanu:) Amin.

Fanu the Powerful

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1991-2002

Death comes to us all, how you greeted makes all the difference.

Fanu, short for Stefan, was the last Damean son, and number eleven in the long line of siblings. He entered this world in December 1991 and left it far too early.

Fanu had a generally calm personality, loved playing with his small cars, usually with his brother Alex, and loved to dream together about their future. Soccer was another game he practiced often in the dusty apartment courtyard of a gray and small town full of factory workers’ children. Life, as he knew it, was satisfactory even if at times shadowed by his father’s angry episodes. Fanu was still at an age where that meant little, just another day in his life, unaware of the grievances abuse brings once you understand what’s happening. In that regard he was spared.

A very competitive character, with a very giving nature, always making big plans of charitable gestures towards someone he loved or was in need. Unfortunately, we’ll never know what his life would’ve been like, but in a way he’s free of pain and sorrow now.

In the spring of 2002 (February) Fanu began having splitting headaches with a tremendous amount of pain around his left temporal area and began isolating himself in dark corners of the apartment. My mother took him to the local clinic where, without a proper examination, was prescribed some medication. It did not work. His fever became alarmingly high while the pain persisted and my mom took him to the local hospital. He was admitted for two weeks getting a daily dose of antibiotics (ampicillin) shots. He then was discharged but a few weeks later (March) when his fever and pain returned with a vengeance my mom and Delia took him to the emergency. Instead of admitting him the doctor in charge sent them to the contagious diseases hospital in Hunedoara. There they had to wait quit a bit, despite the fact that Fanu, now lying on a hospital bed in the waiting room, was crying complaining of intense pain on his left temporal zone. Upon examination the doctor discovered a partial facial paralysis on his left, and sent them immediately to a hospital in Timisoara specializing in contagious diseases and also known to be a good hospital. He was moved back and forth between couple hospitals (intensive care, neurology, contagious diseases) in Timisoara and misdiagnosed quite a bit. From being able to take small walks in the hospital’s court-yard anytime Alin visited, within weeks he became completely paralyzed, unable to eat solids while constantly on IV. The next time Fanu came back home, he was resting in a coffin.

In Timisoara’s hospitals he waisted away rapidly until May 27th when he died. My mom spent countless hours around the clock by his side, relived temporarily so she could rest by Delia and my brother Alin. By the time I came to see him he shrunk in size and all musculature mass was gone, he was paralyzed and no longer could talk, communicating by writing messages on pieces of paper. He was literally skin and bone and I could see the shape of his heart while beating, lifting a very thin layer of white and dry skin. He was no longer recognizable, only when I looked in his eyes I could see Fanu, the man. The suffering matured him tremendously. The diagnosis was never firmly found, but the whole thing began from a puss matter in his brain who by the end of his life spread all over his body in cancerous masses. Alin got really close to Fanu during that time. A few weeks before dying, no longer able to speak, Fanu managed to let my mother know that he knew he was dying. Grief stricken my mother kept telling him he’ll get better. Fanu insisted and by third time, Fanu asked my mother to open the door, because he wanted to go through. My mom opened his door in his room or the bathroom door.

“Not that one mom, the other one.” He would write while pointing to the ceiling.

“My boy, there’s not a door there, that’s the ceiling.”

“Sure there is, mom. There’s a long staircase with two angles waiting on each side and a closed door/gate right before it. Can you open it, so I can go?” My mother understood then. Her little boy was dying and God was waiting for him. Few days later Alin came relieving my exhausted mother for a well needed night of rest. Fanu died during that night. Upon autopsy, was discovered that Fanu had a very high number of cancerous masses throughout his body. Along his spine alone the Chief of Medical Staff who did the autopsy herself found three different types of cancer. Every organ was affected by cancer. She then asked permission for a brain mass autopsy and the results excluded mono or encephalitis (earlier perceived diagnosis) but his brain matter was full of foreign looking tumors, something she’s never seen before. Samples of cancers cell from along his spine, brain and other organs were sent to France for further study but we’ve never heard anything back. The rest of my siblings were advised to take test relating their lung health, don’t remember specifically the name of the test, just in case. The one that did came back fine.

His funeral was big.

My mom’s grief was immense and she argued with God many days after words. Fanu was a big loss for the entire family, unexpected, fast and deeply painful, however I’m glad that he’s no longer suffering and he’s at peace. To us he’ll always remain powerful for the way he faced it all. He didn’t complain and seemed to want to easy our pain any way he could.

Fanu, we miss you forever!!!!!! And can’t wait to see you, but not yet. Not yet.

P.S Few months later, Alin began having similar symptoms and the whole family was devastated. He went and had an operation in Bucuresti and removed non-cancerous tumor mass from his sphenoid canal the size of the end of a finger, formed due to stress and dust. The surgery was a success:)

Thank you God for our Fanu and the time we had with him. Thank you for allowing him to be with us even if for a small period of time. I’m truly grateful. Thank you for my family:)

 

When in pain, one writes

Yes, I’m in quite a lot of pain today, but don’t fuss, it will pass and life moves on. I figured since today it will be spent mostly in bed, I may as well write.

Long before I knew what a Solar Plexus was, I felt it. Every time my father yelled, I felt it. Every time my father hit one of us, I felt it. With every cry of pain, I felt it. With every criticism, I felt it.

Solar plexus aka Celiac Plexus aka Abdominal Brain – is a complex of ganglia (or network of nerves) and radiating nerves of the sympathetic system (fight and flight response) at the pit of the stomach.-Wikipedia

Heal this and you’ll heal adrenal problems, stomach problems, gall bladder problems, diaphragm problems, spleen problems and much more. (Chakras.info; solework.wordpress.com)

It took forty-two years for me to understand why every-time I was around other people I “saw” certain things about them – information that came in different forms such as: colors/lights, a string of clear yet seemingly unrelated images about that particular person’s life or that strong sense of danger/unease/happiness/relaxation one gets around certain individuals – affecting me one way or another, depending on what I “saw” or perceived. I also learned something else: Anytime I felt a perceived danger I would hold my breath. I was not aware I did that until one naturopathic doctor pointed it out. It was my way of coping with trauma or stressful circumstances. It began early in my childhood while witnessing a lot of my father’s abuse towards my siblings and my self. I held my breath. This happens when trauma or excessive stress is present in the early stages of childhood. It changes the structure of one’s DNA and neurological responses. Most people call such a result as “highly sensitive people”. Some are just born that way and no trauma was present, others develop this sensitivity forced by traumatic environments. In reality we’re all sensitive to pollutants/toxicity and stress. The difference is that some can shoulder these burdens better that’s others and it’s directly linked to a strong immune system versus not.

“That’s New Age talk, Carmen.” Some would say, after reading these lines. I was raised in a very strict conservative Christian environment (not all aspects of Christianity beliefs are wrong, but anything presented in a strict and extreme way is usually unhealthy) made to belief anything remotely related to New Age is evil. So I kept quiet about the things I “saw”/perceived knowing full well I would be accused of demon possession. I believe a lot of New Age theology comes from Biblical information but the movement added other things to it.

For forty- years, no stranger could get close to me without me feeling uncomfortable. Hugs to this day are hard for me and any conversation is done from a safe distance. If anyone violates that “safe zone” between us my flight or fight response super activates – although I lived only in a fight or flight response for years.  This has been medically proven by the tests I’ve had these past four years. My body could no longer relax. I’ve forgotten how.

Like a can of worms this perception exploded and jumped past few stages of teaching in massage school. I noticed certain things and had to ask my teachers for an explanation. Upon hearing the things I saw, my teachers simply responded with a genuine smile on their faces: “Carmen, you’ve got a gift.” I do? I thought to myself.

Example: I gave a massage to one of my teachers- which was not nerve-racking at all:)))- and I saw a shadow over her right hip and left knee. I knew instantly those areas were hurt. Without thinking I asked:

“What happen to your right hip and left knee?” She popped her head off the pillow in shock, only to realize she never told me anything about her personal life.

“How do you know about that?”

“I can see it.”

“What exactly do you see?”

“Dark gray shadows with a glow of pale yellow over these areas. I also see…” But she interrupted me, maybe because she didn’t want to find out a student can reveal more personal stuff about her.

“I had a bad car accident about ten years ago and those areas never healed properly.”

“Okay.”

Example: Had a lady on the massage table and I saw intense loss and grief all over her body. She was a good person, burdened by the disease of loss and sickness- a sickening yellow/olive color. I gently told her “all will be alright.” As we began talking I found out she lost someone very dear and just overcame cancer. She was also a bit frightened by all the things I could see so I stopped talking. In the end, she tolled me: “You have a gift.” She left and I never saw her again. I believe I may have frightened her for which I’m truly sorry.

The Solar Plexus is a sensitive spot but a powerful center of information. I’m not sure what made me the way that I am, but I was born with this. I’ve seen many things, most of them horribly dark stuff. Trauma, may have triggered something -this is a theory of mine- or I was born with a gift from God. Either way, I still have a lot to learn and I get things wrong as well.

One thing I’ve learned to do, is not let this gifting hinder my personal relationships, especially my relationship with Chet. Trust me, it took many years to learn how to and I’m still not an expert. But if I meet you and you’re going through something, and I will be allowed to see that, instead of allowing my heart to be broken by your hurt days in a row, I’ll be praying for you earnestly than let God and yourself do the healing in your own way and timing. I’ve learned I can’t be God and don’t want to. But I will be your friend.

I’ve tried to give you a small overview of the solar plexus but there’s so much more to it. For those interested, the internet is full of information on the subject. I hope this helped some of you and did not at least was an interesting read.

God Bless:)

 

 

Mercury free. How does it feel?

I had my final two pieces of mercury pulled out of my mouth and- emotionally at least- it feels fantastic:)

How about physically? You may ask.

Well, I’m so glad you asked:) It feels like I got dental work done:) One side of my mouth I have a new, mercury free, filling where the old mercury resided these past twenty years. On the other side, I have a small hole in my gum. The process was a bit different. In order to remove the piece of mercury (amalgam filling) lodged directly in my gums these  past twenty years, a laser was used to cut the tissue around and away from the mercury piece. It made it easier for the extraction. Now I have a hole in my gum, but do not worry, it will heal and fill in, in due time. For now, I sit here in my bed hurting and writing to you, unable to eat on either side of my mouth and with medicine on the damaged tissue- a swab of HyperOxy Ozonated Olive Oil- to speed up the recovery time. The numbing medicine is wearing off and I have a huge headache as my gum cries out.

To celebrate a mercury free mouth I stopped and got a hair cut- that I hate. So now, I’m sitting in bed with a headache, a bleeding gum and a bad hair cut;) Who said life was not full of surprises? Truth be tolled, I didn’t much care for my hair style before the cut, so the loss is minimal.

UPDATE: I had to take a 30 minute break from writing this journey entry. The medicine (numbing) wore off very fast leaving behind a woman in so much pain she became delirious at one point and yes, cried like a baby while shakingly opening a bottle of Tylenol, medicine that seemed to take forever kicking in, but at long last, it did.

“Meleah, I’m trying to be a tough cookie here and not cry, but this pain is beyond unbearable and your mother will start crying, like a baby I may add, so don’t panic.” I spoke quickly between breaths of pain and then let it all out. So Alexa played Andrea Bocelli’s mournful songs while I cried my heart out and Meleah kept talking about odd subjects in an effort to keep me distracted. It was both a hilarious and sad sight and we both laughed and I cried, realizing just what a great memory this is going to make one day:) Now both Alex and Meleah are cooking dinner-spaghetti night- while I write this blog.

I’ll let you know how things progress, but I predict all will be well:)

Mercury free!!! Worth all the pain I endured:) No regrets here:)

God bless:)

The Accusation

“You’re possessed by demons!” The critical eyes on the other side of this accusation always turned out to be trouble makers within the Christian circle with a very poor example of their own personal lives. Despite me being aware of that obvious fact, I blinked, taken a back by such a bold insult packaged as a statement. My heart got hit, yet again. Can it be true? The doubt sneaked in inevitably.

Why does this particular accusation bothers me- besides the obvious reason; who wants to be tolled they have demons?- and creates such unease within my soul? I’ve meditated on these words many times while asking God for his advise.

Conclusion: While growing up, my siblings and I were called “devil’s children” or “piu de drac” in the Romanian language, regularly. Our role- according to our accuser- was to torment him. That wasn’t very nice and I’ve tried to break away from such a stigma for years. I’ve succeeded only recently, right after God tolled me to look at the evidence- an evidence between how God treated me during the course of my life versus my accuser. The evidence speaks for itself and I no longer need to worry about a lie, passed around with such ease while leaving behind such damage.

Let me ask you this: What person full of the true spirit of God, would say something like this in your weakest of moments (first one was during my first pregnancy and the second was during these past four years while fighting a diagnosed disease). Only a hurt person would hurt another. Religion, hate, pain and misery would speak out such things while the true spirit of God brings you comfort in your weakness.

Some of you know what I’m talking about. You’ve hurt because of such accusations done in hate against you and excused by religious beliefs.

I do believe in being attacked, as we all are either by disease, disappointment, fear, anger, etc and if not resolved it turns chronic. But when “help” comes with a big dose of guilt, condemnation, accusation and down right hate, it no longer falls in the category of help. And when you’re already fighting a battle you don’t need sand in your eyes.

Thank God for healthy friends, like Chet, Elizabeth, Natalya, Gabi, Lynn, other American friends, my brothers and sisters, my Romanian friends and my family here in America,,, thank God for so many of you, full of love, that outnumbered the other ones. I hope you’re all doing well:)

God Bless:)

Lyme and Exercise

To the people that are healthy, I honestly say: Thank God for that! To be healthy is a colossal blessing. For the people who are fighting chronic immune system diseases such as Lyme Disease, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, MS and the list goes on, you’ll relate to what I’m going to write next.

Any one with diseases mentioned above, including cancer and on chemo, exercise and disease mixes like oil and water. Exercise is very important, more so during these stages, however the body is under such tremendous attack, that it can’t handle exercise any longer. Not when all your energy is spent fighting off what ever is attacking you and even a fast shower -never mind shaving, that’s only a luxury at this point- is depleting whatever reserves you may have.

I remember that stage. I was told, by healthy doctors, to take 10 minutes walks everyday because my lymphatic system got stuck. As much as I understood the absolute need to move the lymphatic system- which delivers nourishment and removes toxins from the circulatory system- I had to give this answer, many times;

“I’d love to. You have no idea how much I’d love to walk for 1 minute let alone 10 minutes, but just coming and seeing you is taking such a tool on my body, I’ll be in bed around the clock for a whole week to recover from this.”

During such low moments, I would advise, take deep slow breaths while you’re in bed, miserable, wondering if you’ll see tomorrow. Deep breaths helps the lymph nodes in your gut area- quite large lymph nodes- and will help push things along.

Now, I’m the type of personality that pushes. As I gained any amount of strength I would try to take walks. I remember celebrating when I made it to the end of my driveway and back. It took weeks to build up that strengths and lots of medicine, but I never gave up. I kept on thinking -and arguing at times with my body- we’ll either make it or we’ll die trying. I also began thanking my body for every success- no matter how small. I realized I’ve been  very unforgiving towards my body, pushing it and pushing it until it finally collapsed. Now I’m grateful towards myself and I cheer my heart, lungs, liver etc with every success just like I do with my children’s successes. I had to cease my long time hateful relationship with myself.

Start with deep breaths, but envision the one minute walks, then the two minutes walks followed by 10 min, and one day walking all day long without any consequences other than the usual exhaust from the usual effort.

I’m doing so much better, and in good days I’ve been able to play tennis for up to 10 minutes -even if I have to recover for a whole week afterwards every time – and I keep on pushing because I love life. It’s a gift from God and I’m grateful for the chance to live another day.

Have a good day, today.

God Bless:)