Reinventing myself personal growth program
Guided Meditation C.D.s
Now available in Paperback
Creative Visualization guided meditation techniques
How to Meditate, what is a healing meditation like
Weight Loss and  Emotional eating
Fear of abandonment
Stress reduction
Vital Energy oxygen therapy and breathing
Soul Mates and self love
arthritis chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia
Self Esteem
heartbreak
White Light and healing energies
Spitituality without religeon
Happiness
what is love
Sex - What the women are saying now.
psychic Cords
Money Prosperity Wealth
Parents. Who are these aliens?
Incest
Living in the shadows
Affirmations and Mind Power
Words as Medicine
Absent Healing and Chakra Balance
Better Questions Better Solutions
Are we thinking our own thoughts?
Beauty Myth
bipolar
Inspirational quotes
Im right you're wrong
Letter to My son
Songs to make your heart sing
Contact Sonya Green
Sonya Green new articles
Reinventing myself personal growth program
Guided Meditation C.D.s
Now available in Paperback
Creative Visualization guided meditation techniques
How to Meditate, what is a healing meditation like
Weight Loss and  Emotional eating
Fear of abandonment
Stress reduction
Vital Energy oxygen therapy and breathing
Soul Mates and self love
arthritis chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia
Self Esteem
heartbreak
White Light and healing energies
Spitituality without religeon
Happiness
what is love
Sex - What the women are saying now.
psychic Cords
Money Prosperity Wealth
Parents. Who are these aliens?
Incest
Living in the shadows
Affirmations and Mind Power
Words as Medicine
Absent Healing and Chakra Balance
Better Questions Better Solutions
Are we thinking our own thoughts?
Beauty Myth
bipolar
Inspirational quotes
Im right you're wrong
Letter to My son
Songs to make your heart sing
Contact Sonya Green
Sonya Green new articles
Reinventing myself personal growth program
Guided Meditation C.D.s
Now available in Paperback
Creative Visualization guided meditation techniques
How to Meditate, what is a healing meditation like
Weight Loss and  Emotional eating
Fear of abandonment
Stress reduction
Vital Energy oxygen therapy and breathing
Soul Mates and self love
arthritis chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia
Self Esteem
heartbreak
White Light and healing energies
Spitituality without religeon
Happiness
what is love
Sex - What the women are saying now.
psychic Cords
Money Prosperity Wealth
Parents. Who are these aliens?
Incest
Living in the shadows
Affirmations and Mind Power
Words as Medicine
Absent Healing and Chakra Balance
Better Questions Better Solutions
Are we thinking our own thoughts?
Beauty Myth
bipolar
Inspirational quotes
Im right you're wrong
Letter to My son
Songs to make your heart sing
Contact Sonya Green
Sonya Green new articles
Reinventing myself personal growth program
Guided Meditation C.D.s
Now available in Paperback
Creative Visualization guided meditation techniques
How to Meditate, what is a healing meditation like
Weight Loss and  Emotional eating
Fear of abandonment
Stress reduction
Vital Energy oxygen therapy and breathing
Soul Mates and self love
arthritis chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia
Self Esteem
heartbreak
White Light and healing energies
Spitituality without religeon
Happiness
what is love
Sex - What the women are saying now.
psychic Cords
Money Prosperity Wealth
Parents. Who are these aliens?
Incest
Living in the shadows
Affirmations and Mind Power
Words as Medicine
Absent Healing and Chakra Balance
Better Questions Better Solutions
Are we thinking our own thoughts?
Beauty Myth
bipolar
Inspirational quotes
Im right you're wrong
Letter to My son
Songs to make your heart sing
Contact Sonya Green
Sonya Green new articles
Reinventing myself personal growth program
Guided Meditation C.D.s
Now available in Paperback
Creative Visualization guided meditation techniques
How to Meditate, what is a healing meditation like
Weight Loss and  Emotional eating
Fear of abandonment
Stress reduction
Vital Energy oxygen therapy and breathing
Soul Mates and self love
arthritis chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia
Self Esteem
heartbreak
White Light and healing energies
Spitituality without religeon
Happiness
what is love
Sex - What the women are saying now.
psychic Cords
Money Prosperity Wealth
Parents. Who are these aliens?
Incest
Living in the shadows
Affirmations and Mind Power
Words as Medicine
Absent Healing and Chakra Balance
Better Questions Better Solutions
Are we thinking our own thoughts?
Beauty Myth
bipolar
Inspirational quotes
Im right you're wrong
Letter to My son
Songs to make your heart sing
Contact Sonya Green
Sonya Green new articles
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I was reading an article in a woman’s magazine about a famous actress
who had had a stroke and was now confined to a wheelchair. She is in
her nineties now and the photo of her almost looked like a caricature of
her former self. She was once a beautiful woman and famous for her love
of wealth and many husbands. I was stunned to think that this old, frail
lady was the same as the mink coated, diamond adorned, sex goddess
that I remembered. “God, I’d hate to be that old,” I thought to myself.

As soon as I recognized that thought I scolded myself, first for being so
judgmental and superficial but more so, because I realized I had just
made a statement to myself that I did not wish to be old. Now, how’s that
for irony? I was sitting in a breast cancer clinic nervously awaiting biopsy
results. I corrected myself, I do want to be old, not decrepit and semi-
decomposed, but certainly older than what I am now – much older. I
wondered how often I had had such thoughts. I never wanted to be forty
when I was younger than that, but being forty turned out to be fabulous
and really young when I got there. I moved the measuring stick and
thought I’d hate to be fifty until I got there and found that that was pretty
young as well. I think I have thought that all ages more than ten years
more than my present age were old ages. Mum is seventy seven this
year and she tells me she feels the same as she did when she was thirty.

Death and aging have been showing up quite a lot in the last year or two.
It seems like every few weeks I am hearing about someone dying. Is that
just how it goes around the age of fifty or has it been a kind of
premonition that I was about to look down the barrel of my own possibility.
Have I been warned to check my own expiry date and encouraged to stop
burning time.

Michelle and I have been talking a lot lately about youthing. What is the
possibility of speaking to your DNA and reversing aging? There are many
who claim it is possible. Diet and some yoga techniques claim to reverse
aging, but mostly, we have been using the mind to instruct the body to
rejuvenate itself. Our experiment has looked pretty good really and I was
certain we were on to something. I feel wonderful; healthier, stronger,
more flexible and more vital than I have felt in years.

Mind over matter – law of attraction – manifesting desires – creating our
own realities. I absolutely know that the mind can heal the body. Hey, I
have done so many times, and even written a book about it. So, how the
hell do I end up in a breast cancer clinic with a lump under my arm calling
itself ‘trouble’. Well, I think I have just recognized one request I have
been subconsciously making and that is, I have been telling myself that I
don’t want to be old! I really must change that instruction! My enthusiasm
for youthing has been misunderstood. I do want to get old. Gosh,
sometimes you have to be so careful what you wish for.

“Uncreate that thought – I now give gratitude for my healthy, vibrate,
perfectly balanced body. I love myself, I love my body and I love my life”.

“I now create a long and healthy life for myself. I desire more fun, vitality,
creativity and greater purpose. I am secure, supported, assisted and
protected”.

A few years ago my friend B applied to a TV show to have a total body
make over. She said at the time that she hated her large breasts, hated
having to wear heavy duty bras, and hated her large thighs and bum.
When filling in the application form, she stated that she would love to
have her breasts reduced and liposuction on her thighs and bum. She
wasn’t selected for the show, but last year she had a double mastectomy
to remove breast cancer. This year she is having breast reconstruction
and they are taking fat from her thighs to fill the breasts. She said to me,
“Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it, and it sometimes it
doesn’t come the way you expected.”

(Why do I keep needing to relearn what I already know?)

I have written so much about body image and the need to love, respect,
nurture and care for our bodies. Just how insidiously are we conditioned
to criticize and compare our bodies? When will we as women get it? Is it
really just a co-incidence that around 1 in 8 western women get breast
cancer? Or, is it really about the breast being the feminine zone? Beauty,
sexuality, female power, youth and desirability – are we turning our fears
and insecurities back on ourselves, targeting the icons of femaleness –
our breasts. Do men do the same with the prostate? Statistics seem to
suggest that breast and prostate cancers have become epidemic;
second only to heart attack – now isn’t that saying something. And just
what would sexuality and the heart have in common? Well let’s think
about love…or lack of love …or inability to love…or feeling unlovable…

I’ll come back to that a little later, but right now, I am sitting here with one
of my favourite insights, “Bad things happen for good reasons”. When I
first discovered the lump under my arm I told myself a number of stories
about what it probably was. I deliberately avoided thinking about the C
word even knowing it was obviously the first thing I did think of. If C isn’t
diagnosed and stated then C does not exist. Little voice inside the head
says, ‘wait and see if it goes away’. Two weeks later little voice speaks
louder and insists on checking it out, just to put my mind at rest. I
scramble around my brain for some filed info about most lumps being
cysts and most of the ones that aren’t cysts are benign anyway. Snippets
of facts float up and I reassure myself that there is no family history of
breast cancer, no long term contraceptive pill use, no nipple discharge or
textured bumpy skin. I started and finished menstruation at appropriate
ages and had my child when I was 19. Ah, I console myself, “Most unlikely
– probably impossible. So, go check it out just to prove yourself right.”

‘It’s not a cyst.” Ultrasound lady says.
What does that mean? Funny how
they know what it isn’t, but are unable to say what it is. “Well, you will
need to speak with your Doctor and he will probably want you to have a
biopsy”.
That can’t be good. I study her posture, tone of her voice, facial
expression – nothing. But she’s just a little too thorough and a little too
professional. I feel the air in the room sigh and hum Mmmmmm….

“It’s not a cyst” the doctor reiterates. I know that, so what exactly is it?
(Linda says it could just be my undeveloped twin when I tell her. It
seemed hysterically funny at the time. The thought of having my armpit
aborted seemed so much easier to handle.)
He’s not saying what it is- no-one wants to actually say it, so they shuffle
me off to someone else.

“When did you have your last mammogram?”
Is she being too nice, too
gentle, and too patient? Why isn’t she lecturing me when I tell her it was
fifteen years ago. No, she knows something already.
The mammogram
goes quite well; they have improved a lot since my last one, there is a
little pressure, but nowhere near the salami thin press of my last one.
Thank God for that as she ended up doing 9 mammograms. The lump is
in a difficult place at the outer edge of my breast so I have to go
sideways and upside-down and I think inside out – maybe not quite
inside-out-up-side-down but that’s how I remember it.

She kept leaving the room and coming back and saying they need to
redo them and recheck something. It dawns on me that she is redoing
the left breast but the lump is on the right. She says something about
little calcium deposits that need to be checked. Well who cares about
calcium space junk when I have a lump on the other side? Something
about an indication of pre-cancerous cells. Oh shit, why go looking for
trouble. Don’t fix what isn’t broken. Let’s deal with what is, and not was
could be, might be, and probably won’t be. Any anyway, what is pre-
cancerous – a few cells that say don’t know if they will or they won’t be
cancer. Leave them alone!

The next day I am across town, half naked, and watching a TV screen
with a movie of, “The Lump”. The procedure is fascinating and easy-
peasy; a very thin needle which stings no more than a mozzie bite. The
Dr is being guided by the ultrasound image and pushes what looks like a
crochet hook into the lump and extracts a few cells. This is surprisingly
painless and they should have said so, as I expected it to be more
traumatic. The samples were sent to pathology to determine if C was
living in my lump.

My little pea sized lump with big consequences and life altering
implications. A little pea filled with teeny-weeny angry cells - minute
specks of almost nothing, with the potential to eat me up until I cease to
exist.

The surgeon is young and beautiful and quietly spoken. “It is Cancer,” he
states clearly, softly and matter-of-factly. No dim lights, soft music, hand
holding or sad regret. Done! It’s in the bag, it now exists.

I want to say Fuck-it, but I settle for Oh. What can I say, I really don’t
know what it all means, and yet I am aware that many meanings come to
mind. When I first found the lump I hoped it wasn’t a lump-lump. Then
when it was a lump I hoped that it was a benign lump. Then I hoped it
would only be a lumpectomy and not a mastectomy. I guess if it becomes
a mastectomy, I will hope that it won’t be chemotherapy and radiation and
baldness and sickness. I know that for many, many woman that the
basket-full of hopes runs out until the last one left is, “I hope this doesn’t
kill me”.

I am so sorry for all of the women who go the entire journey. I really
understand the process of wishes, prayers and promises. I feel self-
centered and somehow ashamed to realize that I also detach myself from
them and see myself as something more special or someone more
deserving. I justify my right to live, and I fossick around my mind for some
proof of that. I pull up “I am a good person,” like that’s the real measure
of life and death or perhaps just the worthiness of good luck and
blessings.

I find myself making statements or initiating contracts with…The One
Who Chooses such bargains. I then correct this disrespectful comment
and think, say God, if God exists and you think he has the power to
protect you, then you better use his correct name and respectfully so.

The surgeon does another biopsy. This one is called a core biopsy and
he takes some tissue from the breast, “To be more thorough.” He refers
me back to have another biopsy using mammograms for the calcium
space junk, to be even surer. He books a day for a lumpectomy in a few
weeks time. He wants to take 4 lymph nodes out and says something
about putting dye into the lump and tracking which lymph nodes it travels
through. This will check for cancer cells in the nodes and will indicate
whether the C has travelled to other places in my body. He talks about
radiation therapy and a mastectomy if the left breast calcium has pre
cancerous cells. I no longer listen – mastectomy is not an option. I have a
lump – it’s ugly – let’s take it away- that’s it.

At the breast clinic I had to lie on my stomach on a table with a large hole
in the centre. My left breast hung down into the hole and the rim of the
hole pushed uncomfortably into my ribs and solar plexus. I was told not to
move during the procedure. My breast was then clamped tightly into a
vice and another mammogram was taken. I waited to be released. I could
hear the radiographer talking at a distance and thought she had
wandered off and forgotten me. I called out that she had not released me
from the vice. She sternly barked that I was not to move. She was
checking, measuring and recording the location of the calcium specks on
her images. She took a number of images and my body ached from
having to remain in position.

There was music playing and it was an Anne Murray CD. Sad love
ballads played as I tried to remove myself mentally from this reality. I kept
reminding myself that these people and these procedures where here to
help me. I tried to be grateful. I tried to meditate. I slipped in and out of
my happy place. Think of love, and think of light, and think of healing
energy flowing through your body, I told myself with some success. Anne
Murray continued:

I cried a tear, you wiped it dry
I was confused, you cleared my mind
I sold my soul, you bought it back for me
And held me up and gave me dignity
Somehow you needed me

You gave me strength to stand alone again
To face the world out on my own again
You put me high upon a pedestal
So high that I could almost see eternity
You needed me, you needed me

And I can't believe it's you
I can't believe it's true
I needed you and you were there
And I'll never leave, why should I leave? I'd be a fool
'cause I finally found someone who really cares

You held my hand when it was cold
When I was lost you took me home
You gave me hope when I was at the end
And turned my lies back into truth again
You even called me "friend"

You gave me strength to stand alone again
To face the world out on my own again
You put me high upon a pedestal
So high that I could almost see eternity
You needed me, you needed me

I couldn’t help but think of Rick, I tried desperately not too, as I knew I
would fall apart if I allowed myself to miss him or wish he was here. But
the words in the song just pulled up his image and the memory of not so
long ago when he massaged my back. I so desperately needed my back
to be massaged now. Rick has a bedroom voice, very different to his
strong, masculine daytime voice. His bedroom voice is soft and gentle
and nurturing. We would lie in the dark of night and he would speak with
this voice and I would see his words like movies behind my closed eyes.

I used his image and heard him speaking softly, telling me to relax, and I
felt his hands massaging my back and shoulders. He kept saying over
and over, “Son, you are going to be alright”. All the while this woman with
her stern voice insisting I don’t move as she hit me with what sounded or
felt like a potato gun punching out samples of my flesh. I wept silently
while Rick massaged me and Anne Murray continued singing. (I think this
took around 45 minutes.)

When it was over, I was given my new life diary of appointments. Go
here, bring that, check with, confirm with, read this and sign that. The
adventure continues and it is like a treasure hunt, each task and each
day reveals the next. I am travelling on an escalator to nowhere known. I
can only measure time as a present moment. All invitations and goals
and things to do are answered with probably, but I’m not sure. I can only
deal with how and where I am right this minute. I affirm over and over,
“here is good”.

The past few weeks have been challenging. I find myself being the
observer more often than the participant. It’s interesting to see where the
mind goes and it’s more interesting to observe the control I have over it.
In a strange twist I find I am even happier and more aware than usual. I
think the surgeon thinks I’m odd or maybe he thinks I am in denial –
perhaps I am.

I really don’t think I will die from this. I can’t afford to think that and wouldn’
t think it even if I was told it was likely. I am pleased to see that my beliefs
are solid and I am playing with the idea of dying while at the same time
insisting that it is not for me at this time.

I haven’t told many people about this. I won’t tell my son until it is all over.
If it was to turn tragic then I wouldn’t want him to have it in his head for
even 1 second longer than necessary. I have told my mother I have a
lump that needs to be removed. She thinks it is a cyst and that’s how I will
leave it. She worries about things and I do not want her to worry, for her
own sake, but also I don’t want that energy near me. I pick up peoples
thoughts and feelings and fear is my greatest enemy right now.

Other people’s thoughts, feelings and words can heal or harm me, so I
have been very selective about whom I have shared this with. I have a
fabulous team – my tribe – my healers –my light workers.

What will heal me is keeping my energy up. Serenity, joyfulness and
gratitude are my medicine. Deep breathing and lots of fruit, vegetables,
nuts and water are life enhancing considerations. Having long term goals
and expectations are important. Visualizing and affirming the future
creates the future. Loving people, especially me loving myself and my
life, and being open and accepting and receptive to love will turn this
around in no time. I am actually quite grateful for this experience as I
want to show that it is possible to heal ourselves. Talk is cheap and many
profess to know it all. If I can walk the walk for others and come back and
say here is a way for you to heal yourself too, then what a blessing this
will be.


Copyright Sonya Green April 19th 08
www.reinventingmyself.com
Reinventing Myself - Sonya Green

I found a lump

by Sonya Green

From the breast cancer diaries
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