(The following was originally posted on my Carepages blog for family and friends during my treatment.)

According to the book I wrote (now almost twelve years ago) illness, pain, and injury have three underlying life purposes. Most often, they redirect our path and help us clear away life clutter or shift in ways we had previously put off. (Usually, we have known for some time that we were supposed to make this shift, but either because we didn't know how, thought it would be too complicated, or just plain put it off, we didn't. The other two include being part of a life path, such as being born disabled or being led to meet someone who could become important in our life's purpose. As friend Doc Nell loves to say, "Sometimes we need to go and read our own book." (Yep) And I am. I'm working the revision of Transformational Healing and hope to have the newly revised Deluxe edition available with it's companion e-book by summer.

In the early days of my diagnosis, I began to make new life decisions based on what mattered most to me. When considered from the standpoint of life and death (for example, if I only had six months to live), it gets real easy to make decisions about what's important. But surprisingly, after pondering if I should "retire" from all my client work, websites, online life, I realized how much I valued certain parts of all that. I began to see more clearly what could stay and what had to go. I also started working from a more intuitive based motivation rather than a logical one. Some amazing things began to shift.

When I allow myself to work based on what I'm being called to do, a book I had put off resizing for a year, was done in less than 24 hours. (The Wisdom of Emotional Healing is now going to be a smaller size.) I had considered pulling the plug on Bookectomy, my writer's educational website. Why bother with that when I am in "this" condition. But I kept feeling drawn to it, played with it, added to it. Loved it. It's blossoming into something I enjoy. Its offshoots include a Facebook group where I am playing, teaching, having fun about all things books. It's my playground. I even did live video in there the other day, something I had put off for over a year. You'd think this now-no-haired girl would have been shy to go live. . . (didn't phase me a bit.) I formatted a book while on chemo - easiest book I ever put together. Why? I worked when I intuitively felt led to work and rested when I felt led to rest.

Perhaps a more important shift has been in the gift I gave myself. That gift was time. For years I had wanted to create a digital book of family photos I could pass down to the family. I have started working on that. It will take time, something I didn't make time for before. But it will be of lasting value when done. Generations that come after me will have a photographic history of their ancestry, at least to a minor extent. I also gave myself a Netflix subscription and granted myself time to watch things. I watch. I laugh. I crochet. I think this is called relaxing. . . something new to me.

I have also been shifting my mindset. Quimby (see the Wisdom book above) stated that if we just got rid of all our opinions or beliefs, we would be wiser, happier, healthier. In learning about Access Bars (Dain Heer) I learned about IPOV ("I have an interesting point of view about that). Whether about how someone dresses in Walmart or regarding cancer, I seem to have a point of view about everything. Slide those points of view out of the way, and miracles begin to happen.

In the beginning, I worried what chemo would be like. IPOV. You know, they show it in all the movies, and it's terrible. But for me, and it is different for everyone, it hasn't been horrible. Compassionate nurses come in and access my port. They plug in little IV bags of this and that, each designed to help me through the "Red Devil" they will also IV in. The process is actually very relaxing and calm. I have a large recliner to sit in. Access to tv, snacks, soft music. I go home, eat, rest. It really isn't at all like my IPOV imagined.

Gradually, step by step, my healing is taking place. Not just on a physical level, where just yesterday an ugly piece of that dying tumor fell off, but on a much deeper level where I am making room for a much more balanced life where I am doing things I enjoy, things that bring joy to others, and more peace for me.

The one thing I hope you can glean from this is that we all can benefit from operating from intuition, letting go of opinions, and doing more things that matter and bring us joy. Don't wait for illness to come in forcing the shift. Start doing it now.

Later today I will do chemo number 3. It's like climbing a mountain. Three is mid-way up, but I see the peak. Two weeks from now for number four, I'll view the landscape from the top. Then I will do four treatments with a different set of drugs. It's all a process. "What could be better than this?" (Another Access Bars statement.)

(The following was originally posted on my Carepages blog for family and friends during my treatment.)

Taking this Energizer Bunny and telling her she can't go 90 mph through her days can be frustrating, but I'm learning to adapt. When I need to sit, I binge on home improvement shows. One of my new favorite shows is Restored. The host restores period homes (Victorians, Craftsman's, Mid-Century) back to their original intention with modern upgrades added to the bathrooms, kitchens and floor plans. He claims his favorite thing to do is strip years of old paint from the wood cabinets, doors, woodwork, and other items original to the home. I find stripping away the old paint is kind of where I'm at right now.

In the early weeks of my diagnosis, it was all about priorities and shifting into what REALLY mattered to me and to my family. As the weeks have worn on, other things have been stripped away. I've learned to let Tim and others do things for me. (Sometimes I can't so much as open a Gatorade or a parcel post box.) I did vacuum one day, boy did I catch heck for that! (Clean always feels good, though.) I may be on a vacuuming hiatus for awhile, though.

This past week has been about stripping back my looks. I might not have ever been a beauty queen, but losing my hair has been weird. My head feels. . . vulnerable. . . almost spongy. I've lost about 98% of my head hair now. I'm thankful that, for the moment, I still have eyebrows and eyelashes. The latter is most desperately needed so I can apply my "Better Than Sex" mascara. I don't know what's in that stuff, but between that and the Chocolate Bar eye shadow (yes it even smells like chocolate), I at least feel human for a few moments in the morning. I find having no hair makes me feel somewhere between being a Zombie and a homeless person.

I went through all my scarves. I must have 75 of them. (I've been collecting them for years at flea markets and shops.) Unfortunately, only a handful of them actually fit in a wrap around my head, which I am getting better at. Yesterday I got all done and felt a draft. . . whoops, missed that spot! Of course, there are countless videos online on the different ways and styles to do that. (Something else to do when I'm not allowed to do anything else.) Mark bought me a fuzzy hat to sleep in (so warm and comfy at night), and I am looking at some other fun headwear on Etsy. At least, I can have fun with it, right?

One of the gifts I gave to myself was a Netflix subscription. I've been watching the first episodes of "Grace and Frankie." In case you're unfamiliar with it, the story is about two prominent attorneys who divorce their wives so they can marry each other. Lily Tomlin is a way-out woo-woo and Jane Fonda is an upscale prim and proper. They end up living together (at least so far) so lots of hilarity as they navigate through the differences in their lives. The thing that cracked me up the most was that Frankie (Lily) was this clean eater, environmentalist and in one episode she just goes and buys HoHos, cigarettes, and booze and just starts doing everything all at once. That's kind of what if feels like for me right now. Having spent years trying not to put anything cancer-causing in my body, they now have me so filled up with drugs and chemicals, it's like, who cares? So what if I decide to have a donut, a thick chocolate milkshake, or yesterday, a thick Wendy's hamburger?

I'm not sure how I'll turn out when all this old paint is stripped off, but I do know, deep down underneath there is probably some classic features destined to reveal its original beauty and luster. I'm looking forward to that day.

(The following was originally posted on my Carepages blog for family and friends during my treatment.)

Went for my surgical recheck today. The tumor has shrunk considerably, so that is very, very good news. The difference is very visible. Shrunken like an old mushroom. This means all your prayers and love and thoughts are working so keep it up!!

I've been sleeping a lot the past few days. Did have some night sweats last night which made me a little restless, but nothing major. Been drinking Ginger Ale and Gatorade to keep my fluids up (plus lots of water too).

The sleeping weeks seem to go by slowly and I walk around in a kind of fog. But then the steroids kick in and I feel like I want to do everything. (But I don't. I've been warned to keep myself in check.) Doing something like changing the sheets is a major big deal. Stairs tire me out a lot too.

I've been fortunate that I've been able to do a little client work and to keep in touch with people.

Lots of people have sent butterfly images. (Thanks for that!) One friend drew me a Butterfly Cotillion image. It is perfect for what I imagined. Thank you Krash!!

That's about all I have to share for now. But it's all good. Two chemo treatments down, 6 to go.

(The following was originally posted on my Carepages blog for family and friends during my treatment.)

Tomorrow (Tuesday), I return to UPMC/Hamot for chemo treatment number 2. . .

I see this as a half way to the half way point because I am slated to have four treatments of cocktail #1 and four treatments of cocktail #2. This will be the second of the first four. (I'll take my victories wherever I can get them.)

Today I went in for my blood work and a visit with the staff PA. My blood reports are all good. I have a handful of side-effects, all are minor in the scope of things and are common. I also started noticing some hair fall out in the last couple of days. They tell me this treatment will be the one to intensify that. (I did buy a hat. You have no idea how huge that is. I never wear hats!) I also have an awesome collection of scarves. I didn't know when I started collecting them at flea markets and as Christmas gifts that they might have such a valuable purpose. I'll have the best-dressed head in Erie county.

So say a few more prayers that the side-effects remain at the minimum, that the worst of the symptoms for treatment #2 are the same as treatment #1 (mostly I slept a lot), and I'll see you on the other side of the cave.