On Friday I had the cryoablation. The day before, I received a phone call from a sound healer who had done a short demonstration of sound healing with me last week. She said she needed to share with me some information she had “received” during that short session. She said all the sound had gone to the area of my right breast and was breaking up something crystalline and hard there. (My tumor was in my right lung.) She said she heard the words “no more cancer” — that cancer had been a part of my path and I was finished with it now. This was profound information for me to hear, especially considering that she didn’t know me or anything about my story.
The cryoablation went amazingly well. I was there for 7 hours, but the actual procedure was only 1 ½ hours. They used a CT scanner to guide them in putting the probe through my back, into my lung, and into the tumor. The interventional radiologist said it was about the same size as in the last CT scan, just under 2 cm. He got into it easily and froze it. I wasn’t put to sleep, but I had Versed, which made it almost fun. None of the possible complications happened.
I was instructed that I shouldn’t be alone for 24 hours, so my friends, Carol and Kerry, took turns staying with me. I have a little puncture in my back where they went in and it’s a little sore, but I didn’t have the pain pill prescription filled because I haven’t needed it.
I heard from so many people in the last week, sending your love and prayers, that I am feeling incredibly blessed. I felt enveloped in love on Friday and knew that it was all rigged in my favor. Actually I’m still feeling that way today. Thank you so much for your love and support. You are the wind beneath my wings.
This feels like a transformational time for me. I’ve been thinking of how often something good, like a graduation for example, can be experienced as a loss and bring up sadness because you are losing a goal. I’ve been focused for so long on dealing with cancer, and now I might be graduating.
I’m feeling tearful and sad and I think it’s a good thing. In Marianne Williamson’s talk at the Sacramento conference she talked about loving one’s tumor because it’s the soul crying out for love. So I’ve been doing that — holding her in my arms and loving her. Cancer has been a part of me for 23 years. Even though I believe it’s time for it to go, I feel some sadness. I’m ready to say good-bye, and I think saying goodbye is a necessary part of moving on to whatever the next part of my path is. I’m thinking I will ritualize this transition with a good-bye ceremony (like a funeral) for her. I want to be ready for what is next.