Another note to self...

I'm finding that lately I'm making more and more mental notes to myself...what good it does, I do not know, but I make them. I envision my brain loaded down with bright yellow sticky notes and hand scribbled messages to myself. It's getting pretty crowded up there but this note is a major note...one I must find room to squeeze in somewhere! Are you ready for it, here it is...DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES GO TO A HAIR STYLIST YOU'VE NEVER BEEN TO BEFORE...NEVER...EVER...EVER. And ESPECIALLY not before a holiday! Let me tell you why I say this and what happened to me.

I was growing out a cute little pixie cut. My hair is very fine and slow growing. It took almost 8 months to get my hair to the "just below chin level" and it was starting to look kind of "mullet-y." It wasn't quite as bad as Carol Brady's (you remember the Brady Bunch don't you???) but it was close. Soooo I decided it was time to get that fixed and I got on the internet and searched for salons near me. I found one that looked well established and called them up.

When the receptionist answered the phone, I told her I needed a haircut. I told her I didn't know any of the stylists but I needed someone who was good with baby fine hair. She said she had just the person for me...her name was Jill. I asked if Jill had been cutting hair very long and the receptionist said, "oh yes, over 30 years!" Okay then...sounded like a winner, so I went to the salon. Hubby was off work and said he'd go with me. I told him he'd probably rather sit in the car than in the waiting room with all the other women, he said he'd be fine. What a good guy he is!

I checked in at the receptionist's desk and the shampoo girl came to get me. After I was shampooed, I was taken over to meet Jill. Jill was about my age but had salt and pepper hair. Her hair was in a neat pixie. (I always make it a point to check out how my potential stylist wears her hair. If her hair isn't neat and well groomed, then I don't trust her to do mine.) Jill passed the test.

Jill sat me in her chair and asked what I wanted. I told her I was in a dilemma. I was growing out this pixie cut and while I was pleased with the length of my hair now, I didn't want a mullet. She said you have two options, go back to a pixie or have a shorter than chin length blunt cut. Well....I have a very round face so I knew the blunt cut was definitely a no. Back to the pixie it was then.

Jill and I talked the entire time she was cutting my hair. I got to know a lot about her and she got to know a lot about me. When she was done, I felt like we were friends. My hair looked cute and I left the shop happy...but wait! There's more!

I liked my short "do" so much. When I got home, I played with it a lot. I put styling paste in it and spiked it up...it looked cool. I put gel in it and wore it in a wet look...that looked cool too. I rolled it and sprayed it with hairspray for a different look...it was nice. And then, I made a fatal mistake...I decided I wanted to get my hair highlighted so the beautiful white hairs (that I'd seen peeking out around the edges of my face) could just come on in and one day in the future, I'd be completely white headed. I called Jill and set up another appointment. I told her my plan and she said it was do-able.

Once again, I sat in Jill's chair. She asked what my goal was and I told her about letting my whitish/gray hairs come in naturally. She went to the back and mixed up some color and then came back and began to foil my hair. After she got the foils in, she sat me under the dryer for about 40 minutes and then I was shampooed. When she began to dry my hair, I noticed the foils looked very light instead of like the blondish ones I've had in the past, but I didn't say anything. She pulled out her curling iron and began to curl and style my hair and then covered me in a coat of hairspray. She worked on it about 15 minutes before she was pleased. Next, she asked if I liked it. All I could see was the front of my hair and it looked okay so I said yes.

On the way home from the salon, I asked my husband if it looked okay. I told him I didn't even get to see the back. (Usually the stylist will give you a big hand held mirror while you're in the chair so you can see the back of your hair before you leave....but Jill didn't. I began to wonder why.)

When I got home, I went into the bathroom and began to comb through my hair. I didn't like it all poofy like Jill had styled it. I combed all the hairspray out and then got my mirror to look at the back. Let me tell you, I was NOT pleased when I saw it. I had patchy spots of white all throughout the back of my hair. I looked like a leopard! It looked really bad. I began to cry and then...I got MAD. I had just paid this woman $75 to do my hair and I'd also given her a $25 tip! Jill might have been a good hair stylist but coloring/foiling/highlighting hair was NOT HER FORTE'. Now what was I going to do...Easter Sunday is coming! I have to get this fixed and now. I was having a really bad hair day...

So I went to Sally (no, not another hair stylist, but you're close! It's a beauty supply store.) I knew I had to recolor my hair to get rid of the patchy white spots but how was I going to cover up those big white spots and the highlights she'd done all over the top of my head? I knew I could add color but, the highlights had been done by bleaching out my natural color. I also knew (from working in a salon years ago) that if you weren't careful, when you colored over bleached hair, you could end up with GREEN in the places that had been highlighted. I didn't want GREEN hair and I didn't want LEOPARD spotted hair...what to do. So, I jumped on my smartphone and GOOGLED it. I found out that if I put a Neutral Protein Filler on first, it would prepare those highlighted spots to take on the new color. Woohoo. Now I was on to something.

I bought $17 worth of supplies at Sally and headed home. I worked most of the day preparing food for Easter and my hair color supplies sat there on the counter in plain view. I had to do first things first and since we'd been invited to an Easter dinner with one of my children, I needed to get my dishes prepared and ready. I whipped up my famous Broccoli salad and then my "to die for" hashbrown casserole. Next I boiled some eggs...you gotta have deviled eggs on Easter, right? So, I had a cool idea, I'll boil the eggs, then peel them and then dip the shelled eggs into the food coloring...that way, we won't just have the pretty outsides of the eggs that usually is peeled off and thrown away but we'd have colored edible eggs that were filled with my deviled concoction. Pretty nifty, I thought. So, I gathered some little cups and put a different color of dye into each one. I had orange, yellow, blue, green and pink. The colors were so beautiful and I enjoyed sliding each boiled egg into the color baths. After getting the eggs completed. I was tired, but I still needed to address the hair problem.

I gathered my things and told hubby I'd see him in a bit. I went into the bathroom and began by putting the neutral protein filler on my hair. It had to sit for 20 minutes and then, I could start with the coloring process. When the timer rang, I started to mix up my hair color. I gently poured 2 ounces of 20 volume developer into the color mixing bowl and then added 1 ounce of my hair color. (I'd chosen a darker shade than normal and one without reddish tones because I didn't know how it was going to react to the highlighted areas.) I began applying the hair color and as soon as I got my entire head covered with color, I began to freak out!!! My hair started to turn PINK!!! I am NOT KIDDING HERE! It was not a beautiful pink shade like the Easter eggs color bath, but a definite PINK...a deep, rosy PINK! Oh my word! What had I done now! There was nothing I could do. All I could think was, well...if I have pink hair at least I could advertise for breast cancer awareness, but I didn't want PINK hair. So, I decided to wait and see what happened if I left the color on for a while longer.

After 30 minutes, my scalp began to burn! I guess the protein filler and the developer had done a number on my head. I tried to let it stay on the full 45 minutes as recommended but there was no way I could leave it on any longer. I looked in the mirror. Thankfully, the rosy pink hue had vanished and now, my hair was a deep, dark brownish black. At least it wasn't LEOPARD SPOTTED AND AT LEAST IT WASN'T GREEN OR PINK!

I showered and washed the remaining hair dye out. When I finished drying my hair, I was pleasantly surprised. The highlights were gone! The spots were gone! The pink was gone! All that was left was a nice, rich, deep brown color. I could breath a sigh of relief!

So the moral of the story...a $117 dollar story...be sure you have a qualified hair stylist before deciding to color. Always ask for a mirror so you can check out your head before leaving the shop. If you're not happy, you have two choices...go back in and demand the problem be corrected or opt for a do it yourself fix. If you go the do it yourself route, you better know what you're doing otherwise you may end up with pink or green hair or even NO HAIR at all!

Why didn't I go back in and demand my hair be corrected???
1. The shop was closed by the time I found out there was a problem.
2. Jill wasn't working the next day.
3. I had to fix it before Easter! I couldn't go to church with spotty hair and I didn't have a wig!
4. I was angry and wanted the problem fixed immediately so I chanced doing it myself.

The end results

I'm so thankful it turned out okay. It could have been even worse than the beginning. I could have ended up with PINK LEOPARD SPOTTED HAIR!

This is a true story and believe me when I say, this note to self will remain on the very front lobe of my brain for years to come! Maybe one day my kids and grandkids will laugh about all my zany life stories. I hope someone will laugh...it is kinda funny now that I think about it.

When it comes time for lunch tomorrow, I think I'll forego having any of those colored deviled eggs. I'm a little scared of the green and pink ones...and Jill will never know that I didn't love her highlighting job unless we bump into her at church, afterall, she does attend the same church we do!

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Creative therapy

 I've been struggling lately with getting out of the house and doing something...anything. I've become so comfortable just being here with me, myself and I all day long every day. I can do what I want when I want without any disruption, but I know it's not healthy to isolate myself...so, I decided to make myself do something.

The hospital near me has a Cancer Wellness Center and they offer classes at no cost to breast cancer patients and survivors. My Oncologist told me about it right after I was diagnosed and I was scared to death to walk down the hallway to see where the classes were even held. If my oldest daughter hadn't been with me, I'm sure I would not have gone to see it at all, but she insisted telling me it would be good for me.

Several months passed after that first visit to the wellness center and she kept asking me if I'd gone to any classes yet. I had to respond that I hadn't. She kept prodding me, telling me to try it but I was afraid to go alone to a place where I knew no one. I didn't want to go, but I promised her I'd go at least once and so I did.

My first visit was okay. There weren't a lot of people there. I was very nervous and tried to fit in as best I could. The ladies were nice but not overly friendly. It was apparent they had known each other for some time and had their own little cliques. I wondered if I'd ever fit in. When I left that first day, I didn't think I would be back. I had kept my promise and that was all I felt I needed to do.

Since the beginning of the year, I'd promised myself that I'd be brave...that I'd try something new. I really needed to be around other people and the only people I knew here were medical staff...I didn't want to be around them unless I had to be!

Last night, I sent my daughter a text and told her I needed a cheerleader...I needed her to encourage me to go to the wellness center. She responded with several texts filled with verses of Scripture that reminded me to be brave and courageous. I went to bed thinking I'd give it a try if I felt good enough in the morning.

This morning, after waking up from one of the best night's sleep I'd had in months, I decided to go to the center. Today was art therapy day and afterwards, there was a creative writing class. I loved both of those things so I thought it would be a good day for me to venture out.

I ate breakfast and then checked the clock. It was a little before 8.  I hurried to get a shower and then got dressed and put on a fresh coat of makeup. I looked in the mirror and started to feel shaky. I wasn't feeling very brave...but wait! I had my lions! I'd collected a small brood of lions since my diagnosis. Friends had sent them to me to remind me to be brave while going through treatment. They had been my constant companions as I'd worked through radiation treatments for 7 weeks, I knew they could help me now too.

I went into the bedroom and gathered them up in my arms. "Come on guys," I said, as I whisked them into the front seat of my car. I glanced at the clock, it was almost 9:30 a.m. Traffic was a little heavier than normal but I pressed on, determined not to be late.

When I arrived at the hospital, the parking lot was extremely full. I parked in the first space available and walked about a block to the front door of the wellness center. I took the elevator up and took a deep breath as I reached my floor. The door opened and I made a b-line for the bathroom, nerves, I guess. After I composed myself, I went down the long corridor to a set of glass doors that led to the classrooms.

I entered the classroom and NO ONE was there! I started to freak out but then noticed it was not quite 10 a.m. ...maybe I was just early and others would come soon. I noticed that the room was fairly dark, so I began opening the blinds to let in the morning light...that was much better, I thought to myself and sat down at a round table.

Gayle, the art therapist

Promptly at 10 a.m. the art therapist came into the room. She introduced herself to me again. Her name was Gayle and she remembered me from my very first visit...I was surprised! She started pulling out supplies for the class and I volunteered to help. We sat up a table and got everything ready as other ladies came into the room. Each one told me her name and a little about herself.

We got started with our project and soon, I was immersed in what I was doing. I totally forgot about what was going on around me. I was so busy making my mosaic and getting it just the way I wanted it. It was so nice not to have to think about anything other than what I was doing at that very moment.

Time went by so quickly and soon it was noon, time for lunch. I went downstairs to the new cafe and ordered a sandwich. It was so beautiful outside. I chose to sit in the sunshine. There was a small picnic area set up in between buildings and it looked so inviting.

When lunch was over, I headed back up to class. The creative writing class was a very small group. I guess not many ladies enjoy writing. I was kind of glad because I prefer to be in a small group. Since this was my first writing class at the center, I didn't know what to expect. The art therapist pulled out a mason jar filled with slips of paper and asked me to pick one. As I read it, I saw that it had a journaling prompt on it. Each of us would now take the prompt and write from it.

Gayle gave us a certain amount of time to complete our assignment. When we were done, she asked if anyone wanted to read portions of their work. When she asked me, I was nervous, but agreed to read my writings. Everyone in the class was amazed. They asked me to read my work again. I was shaky and wondered why they wanted to hear my work read aloud once again. After reading, they all told me I had wonderful talent and that I should write professionally. I explained that this was a lifelong dream but I'd never pursued it. I felt honored to hear their words of praise.

I was thankful I'd made myself go to the classes. It was very cathartic and I could actually feel the stress leaving my body. It was also nice to be around other people. I didn't realize how much I'd missed it.

Next week will be easier since I know some of the ladies. I'm actually looking forward to the classes and can't wait to see what type of things we'll do.

I felt a little silly writing about this topic today, but I wanted to share my vulnerability with you. I don't just struggle with my physical appearance, I struggle emotionally too. Breast cancer can really do a number on your self esteem. I know it has on mine, but I'm fighting hard to get it back to a new normal.

Working on our mosaics

I'm so thankful to have my own personal cheering section! My daughters know me so well and they can tell when I'm fearful. Grownups aren't supposed to be afraid of little things like going out in public, are they? I was never afraid before surgery so I don't know why I am now. Hopefully things will get better with time. I did actually have a lot of fun today and I know that it was really good medicine.


© bonnie annis all rights reserved

The nutritionist says...

Yesterday was my visit to the cancer wellness center to meet with the nutritionist. Last week, when I visited Dr. Feinstein, he suggested I meet with a nutritionist. I'm thankful the wellness center offers that service free of charge to breast cancer survivors.

I had no idea what to expect when I walked into her office. A very petite 30 something woman sat before me. She greeted me cordially and we began to talk a little about my experience with cancer. She listened intently as I described my stage, treatment, and current situation. Now it was time to get down to the nitty gritty...

"Why are you here, exactly?," she said. "Well, my oncologist thought it would be a good idea since I'm taking a natural approach to staying healthy instead of taking Tamoxifen, Arimidex or any of those other anti-hormone therapies." "Okay, so let's talk about your diet," she said. So I proceeded to give her a break down of what I usually eat for each meal. She looked shocked when I finished. "Wow, you eat really well! You are doing exactly what you should be doing." I wanted to jump up and down and say, "I KNOW! I KNOW!" but I restrained myself.

She began printing off documents from her computer and turned to me saying, "so, what would you say your goal is right now?" The first thing that came to mind was to say, "just to stay alive" so that's what I said. "That's a good goal!," she said. I also told her I'd like to lose some weight. I explained how frustrated I was at having a super slow metabolism. Ellen, the nutritionist, looked confused. "How do you know you have a slow metabolism?" I told her that no matter what I did or didn't eat, I could never lose a pound. Even when I added lots of exercise, nothing helped. When I told her about having had my thyroid gland removed in 2005, she was able to understand a little better and agreed with me.

"Why don't we just focus on making healthy eating choices and not focus on losing weight?," she said, "if you continue to eat lots of fresh fruits and vegetables like you've been doing and increase your activity, I'm pretty sure the weight loss will follow."

Ellen

Ellen handed me a stack of printouts. There was one was on Organic foods and cancer, another was on plant based diets and phytochemicals, and the last one was a 1600 calorie menu planner with many pages of diet information. I told Ellen that I don't think I ever ate 1600 calories in a day. My diet was usually around 1200. She explained that she'd based that calorie count on several factors including my BMR (basal metabolic rate.)

I sat there looking over the papers and happened to glance down at her shoes. (She had on some really cool shoes!) I wanted to say something about them but thought it might seem a little weird, but then...I couldn't help it! "Those are the coolest shoes!," I said. She glanced down at her feet and then a big smile came across her face. "Thank you! You just made my day!" I asked where she'd purchased them and she told me. I love quirky, different looking shoes. Hers were an olive drab colored canvas similar to the Converse high tops I wore in high school but these had a unique fold down tongue and side flaps. As we were talking about the shoes, a guy came walking into her office and looked directly at me said, "it's time for your drum lesson." Ummmm....you can't imagine the shocked look on my face. I thought he was kidding but it turns out he wasn't!

Ellen and I were finished and as I told her thank you, the guy was grabbed hold of my hand and pulled me gently down the hallway. I looked back at Ellen with a "help me???" look on my face. She just smiled and sat down to do some paperwork.

Rounding the corner, the guy took me into a room filled with leather chairs and sofas. He motioned for me to have a seat and being the compliant person that I am, I sat down. He handed me a drum...but not your typical drum, it was an African drum. He took one and placed it between his thighs and asked me to do the same...which I did. Can I tell you, I was feeling really weird and really uncomfortable but then, he began to show me the various drum strokes to play the Djembe (the African drum made of wood shaped like a huge challis with a head made of goatskin stretched over the top of it.) I watched in amazement as he began to stroke the drum. The sounds resonated throughout the room and began to get louder as he continued playing. "Now you try it," he said.

I took my drum and followed along as he taught me the 3 types of strokes used to play this instrument. The first stroke was a bass stroke where the whole hand was used to hit the surface of the drum firmly. The second stroke involved only the meaty part of your hand, just below your fingers, and this stroke was made squarely along the outer rim of the drum. This stroke was called the tone stroke. The last stroke involved the meaty part of the palm and the fingers, again along the outer edge of the drum and it was called the slap stroke. As I practiced each stroke, I was beginning to loosen up and have fun!

The instructor told me to close my eyes and practice the strokes while saying "pepperoni and spaghetti." He said the words gave the proper cadence to the strokes he was teaching me. I felt silly sitting there in a room alone with a man I'd never met before with a big wooden African drum between my legs, eyes closed saying "pepperoni and spaghetti...PEP per oni and SPA ghetti, PEP per ONI and spa GHETTI"  As he changed up the emphasis on the words, he changed the type of stroke we played on the drum.

We sat there playing our drums for about an hour. As the beat became more natural, I was transported into a dusty, poverty stricken land surrounded by tattered children. I could just imagine all of us sitting there underneath the Baobab trees gathered into a loose circle as the elders led us in some sort of ceremony with drums beating and shirtless women dancing. It was the weirdest thing ever, just like I had stepped into a National Geographic documentary on African music.

The rhythmic drumming was hypnotizing, but not in a bad way. It was very peaceful and as I kept drumming, the instructor began to tell me a little of the drum therapy program here at the wellness center. He explained that the drumming was a wonderful stress reliever and something about Oncolytic Immunotherapies and T cell production. I didn't really listen because I was "into" my drumming. I felt connected with the native peoples through their music.

When it was time for the class to be over, I didn't want to leave. Isn't that funny? At first, I had felt totally out of place and strange about even picking up the drum and holding it. The pepperoni and spaghetti part made me want to burst out laughing but now, it all came together. 

The cancer wellness center at Piedmont Hospital is a wonderful resource. They offer free programs to help cancer survivors thrive. There are cooking classes, art therapy classes, writing classes, drumming, massage, yoga, group therapy, and other programs offered weekly. Each of these programs help those of us who continue to struggle to find our place in the world feel a little more grounded. The programs are set to reach a wide range of women and some of them participate in every class offered. I like to choose ones that include things I enjoy already like the art and writing classes. 

It's nice to know the doctors aren't only concerned with helping us through the immediate crisis of cancer but also want to help us be successful in returning to our daily lives. It's a huge struggle for many of us who have experienced devastating physical changes. The cancer wellness center is a wonderful place for overcoming the emotional pain that cancer inflicts upon its victims. 

Nutrition plan, check. African drumming, check. What's next you say? Well, you'll just have to wait and see. I do know that I'm not just going to sit around on my duff and rot. I've got a whole lot of living left to do! 

 “The best thing for being sad," replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, "is to learn something. That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn.” ~ T.H. White

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Oh Matcha!

For about a week and a half now, I've been drinking lots of Matcha Green Tea. I'd done extensive research on natural ways to combat cancer and green tea was highly recommended, so I ordered a large bag of organic Japanese Matcha tea from Amazon.

Matcha is different from coffee, and from other teas, in one important aspect: the caffeine in matcha works in a synergistic manner with all the other great stuff that matcha contains, including hefty quantities of phytonutrients, antioxidants, and amino acids.

Because the caffeine molecules in matcha bind to larger and more stable molecules (especially catechins), the caffeine is, essentially, released over time, instead of all at once, as it is with espresso or brewed coffee, into the bloodstream. In contrast to coffee, this timed-release mechanism tends to inhibit any sudden insulin increases, so there is no “crash” associated with quick drops in blood sugar that so many coffee drinkers feel an hour or so after drinking a cup. Nor does matcha stimulate the production of cortisol, the stress hormone, as coffee can.

The benefits of green tea have been known for decades. But now a super green tea that has slowly emerged from Japan called Matcha is gaining more and more attention. Matcha is cultivated by local farmers using traditional methods, from growing to grinding. It has traditionally been used to flavor and dye foods such as green tea ice cream and soba noodles.

In 2003, the University of Colorado published a report about the potency and concentration of EGCG, a powerful anti-oxidant found in green tea. The researchers found that Matcha green tea contained up to 137 times more EGCG than regular green tea.

Here are few of the amazing benefits of EGCG in Matcha Green Tea, specifically about Breast Cancer. There are countless studies that demonstrate the power of EGCG as an effective Tumor Terminator. Here are just a few:

• Suppresses inflammation and aggressive estrogen mediators in breast tissue.
• Causes Breast Cancer cells to die
• Suppresses the new blood flow that feeds Breast Cancer tumor
• Reverses epigenetic changes and prevents DNA damage that is often seen in Breast Cancer
• Suppresses stem cell production in human Breast Cancer

Aside from being a Cancer Buster, Matcha Green Tea hosts a number of other health benefits.
It is a powerful Anti-oxidant powerhouse, boasting a higher ORAC score than blueberries and pomegranate.

• It contains 5 times more L-Theanine compared to other green teas, an amino acid that creates alpha waves in the brain that induces relaxation.
• Matcha has been shown to improve physical endurance up to 24%.
• It boosts metabolism and burns fat.
• The chlorophyll in the green tea detoxifies heavy metals and toxic chemicals.
• One glass of Matcha is equivalent to 10 glasses of green tea in terms of its nutritional value and anti-oxidant content.
• Matcha is packed with antioxidants, vitamin C, tocopherols, carotenoids, selenium, zinc, chromium, and manganese.
• Believe it or not, this tea is high in soluble and insoluble fiber, which is great for your colon and cholesterol levels.

Drinking Matcha is a unique experience. The powdered green tea smells like freshly mown grass. Preparing it is very different from other types of tea. Matcha doesn't come in tea bags. It's loose powder that you have to spoon out into the cup. After heating your water, you add one to two little spoonfuls of Matcha to the Chasen (Matcha bowl) and whisk it vigorously. When you have a good heady froth, you immediately drink the tea. If allowed to sit, the matcha settles into the bottom of the cup and forms a thick sediment.

Since following my desire to pursue natural healing methods instead of taking a chemical for the next 10 years, Matcha, even though the taste is taking some time to get used to, has made me feel proactive in my health care. 

I have discovered that I do need to be very careful about when I drink my Matcha. For example, yesterday I had a cup of Matcha first thing in the morning and then again at 3p.m. I went to bed at 11 p.m. and found that I was unable to sleep. I tossed and turned most of the night. I kept wondering if it could be the Matcha. It must have been the tea because I was so tired and so ready to sleep but couldn't. Sometime around 2:30 or 3:00 a.m. I finally drifted off only to wake up again at 5:00 a.m. I haven't had any caffeine in the past 5 years due to advice from my cardiologist so I guess my body was overly stimulated from the small amount of caffeine in the Matcha. 

It's six of one and half a dozen of the other...medication with nasty side effects or organic, natural methods and sleepless nights. Decisions, decisions. I'm going to continue the Matcha and other choices I've made to fight the recurrence of breast cancer. Hopefully, changing up the times I drink the tea will take care of the insomnia. I sure hope so! The oncologist told me that sleep is vital to the healing process and I know it is during those periods of rest that my body is busy making healthy, new cells. I NEED MY SLEEP!

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Homegoing celebration

Yesterday, I had the honor and privilege of watching a memorial service for my sweet friend, Kara Tippetts, via live streaming over the internet. The service was held in her home town of Colorado Springs, Colorado. Her blog had announced earlier this week that a live streaming service would be held due to the public response to her death. When I first read about it on her blog, I knew I'd have to watch even though I knew it would be very difficult. I entered a reminder on my smartphone to make sure I didn't miss the streaming feed. It was shown at 1:15 p.m. MST and lasted just short of an hour.

At 4 p.m. EST, my cellphone alerted me to turn on my computer as the service was about to begin. I wasn't shocked, as I focused on the live stream, to see the massive amount of people who sat quietly in the sanctuary of Kara's church. Kara's life had touched so many. The service began very quietly and it was evident that the room was filled with deep emotion. One pastor got up to speak and brought a great message about Jesus raising Lazarus and how death was conquered at the cross. A small band played and then speaker came forward. Everything was done so tastefully and reverently.

As the speakers came to the podium, I could see Kara's husband, Jason, and their four children on the front row. They were visibly upset and were constantly wiping their eyes with tissue. I've been praying for them since Kara's passing. How very difficult it must have been for them to say goodbye to their beloved. Even though I'd never met Kara personally, I considered her a dear friend as we had bonded through Facebook and email messages throughout the year. I found myself tearing up as the service came to a close. It was hard to realize that she was gone.

For Christians, funeral services should be times of grand celebration...that's what I'm hoping mine will be when the time comes. I want people to remember how much I loved life and how wonderfully rich my life was while I was here on Earth. Tears and sadness are natural as we let go of the ones we love but we should also rejoice that the time has finally come for them to stand face to face with the One who loves them most.

I've been to many funerals in my lifetime. Most of those had been for Christian friends or family members. While it was sad to see their Earthly life end,  I knew their heavenly life was just beginning. What a great comfort it was to know where our loved one was headed...to heaven to be with the Lord. I've also been to funerals of non-Christians. Oh how sad those services were! The ones left behind had no certainty of where their loved one was going. In those instances, death seemed futile.

There's one difference I've noticed between the funeral service of a Christian and a non-Christian, and that difference is hope. The Bible says, "We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord." 2 Corinthians 5:8 Christians know that when they leave this Earth, they go immediately home to be with Jesus in Heaven. Non believers are forever separated from Christ and no longer have the opportunity to accept Him as their Lord and Savior.

At the end of most funeral services held in the Southern states, an invitation is given just as the service winds to a close. The preacher wants to make sure no one leaves without at least having heard the plan of salvation. I've witnessed most of those invitations without any response from the funeral guests but on one occasion, I had the honor of seeing one of my relatives come forward and accept Christ as Savior. What a sweet moment that was!

Life and Death are polar opposites. One brings pleasure and the other brings pain. The reality of life is that it can end at any moment. Death is eminent. We will all die at some time or other. This realization helps us understand that we need to use our remaining time well.

Kara, shortly before her death said, "I feel like I’m a kid at a party, whose Father said it’s time to leave and go Home already….. And I am not afraid of dying — I just don’t want to go.” And who could blame her? Have you ever pondered how you might feel as you approach your last days here on Earth? I have done this recently. It's strange how cancer causes you to re-evaluate your life and how it shoves death right in your face. Watching Kara during her last weeks here, I realized the importance of dying well. Ann Voskamp, a wonderful Christian author and dear friend of Kara's said, "We love life more, the more we realize all this lovely life is transient." How very true her statement is to me. I've learned to love life more since being diagnosed, and Kara's life has been a wonderful example of not only living well, but dying well.

If you've never read Kara's book or her blog, you probably don't really know her. You may have heard her name as she was recently in the news when Brittany Maynard, a young woman diagnosed with a large brain tumor announced the specific day she had planned to take her own life through assisted suicide. Kara, though dying of stage 4 metastatic breast cancer, wanted to reach out to Brittany and make sure she knew that God had a plan for her life...that she didn't have to do this...that God had allotted her a specific number of days to live and no one could know that number except God Himself.  Here's a short snippet of the letter for you: "Suffering is not the absence of goodness, it is not the absence of beauty, but perhaps it can be the place where true beauty can be known."
In your choosing your own death, you are robbing those that love you with the such tenderness, the opportunity of meeting you in your last moments and extending you love in your last breaths. As I sat on the bed of my young daughter praying for you, I wondered over the impossibility of understanding that one day the story of my young daughter will be made beautiful in her living because she witnessed my dying. That last kiss, that last warm touch, that last breath, matters — but it was never intended for us to decide when that last breath is breathed. Knowing Jesus, knowing that He understands my hard goodbye, He walks with me in my dying. My heart longs for you to know Him in your dying. Because in His dying, He protected my living. My living beyond this place. Brittany, when we trust Jesus to be the carrier, protecter, redeemer of our hearts, death is no longer dying. My heart longs for you to know this truth, this love, this forever living." (You can read Kara's complete letter to Brittany here.)

Kara was a wonderful, loving, caring, concerned mother and friend. Her faith was what carried her through her diagnosis and into her last days. She walked with God daily and made sure others knew He loved them. She lived well. She also died well. She died with dignity and grace. My hope is that I can follow in her footsteps when my time comes.

At 57, it seems the older I get the faster the days go by. Just yesterday it was Christmas and now, it's almost Easter. I feel an urgency to do the things I need to do before I pass away. When I was much younger, I never gave death a thought even though the Bible tell us that daily we are dying. As you think back over your life, can you say you've lived well? I hope you can. As you approach the later part of your life, do you ever think about whether or not you'll die well? I think about this often.

How can we learn to live well? To live well, according to Kara, is to live by faith...to walk daily with God and in His power...to love others and show them mercy. And how then can we learn to die well? Dying well involves trusting God completely....that even if He chooses to allow your life to experience suffering, that you will accept it as His good and perfect will for you...that you will be able to walk humbly with Him through every peak and valley and that you will continue to let your life be a reflection of His love.

Thank you, Kara, for such wonderful, valuable life lessons. Thank you for allowing me to call you friend. Thank you for taking time to answer emails and Facebook messages with silly questions and fearful thoughts when I first found out I had cancer. God used you to minister to my heart and I came to love you as a sister in Christ. Though you are now gone, you will never be forgotten. Your life touched so many and will continue to do so for generations. Rest in His presence, sweet Kara, and one day, we'll meet each other and I can express my gratitude to you personally.

Please pray for Kara's family...her husband, Jason, and her four children - Eleanor Grace, Harper Joy, Lake Edward, and Story Jane as they continue to grieve over their loss.

Kara's family

"So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day." 2 Corinthians 4:16

"Therefore, being always of good courage, and knowing that while we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord—for we walk by faith, not by sight—we are of good courage, I say, and prefer rather to be absent from the body and to be at home with the Lord." 2 Corinthians 5:6–8



© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Broken but beautiful

I look at myself in the mirror. Even after 8 months, it is so hard. I am broken. I am scarred. I am mutilated. I could dwell on my appearance and become very sad and depressed, but it wouldn't change a thing. Yes, I am broken but I am still alive.

As I look at myself, I can only linger for a few moments. The woman staring back at me is someone I don't know. The scars are not pretty, in fact, they are disgusting. They've faded some over the months from glaring bright red to a softer, duller pink. I know with time, they'll fade even more but they'll always be there...a constant reminder of my battle...the fight for my life.

The mirror doesn't lie when it comes to physical appearances but Demi Lavato, in her pop song, "Believe in Me," says "The mirror can lie. Doesn't show you what's inside. And it, it can tell you you're full of life.It's amazing what you can hide just by putting on a smile.” Her lyrics are so true. Although I am broken on the outside, I do my best to hide that fact with a smile. Everyone thinks I'm okay when I'm smiling and sometimes, I even convince myself. Some days are worse than others. I still have those emotional ups and downs. I guess that comes with the territory of being a breast cancer survivor. I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels this way. So many of us walk among you...broken but still beautiful. You've probably walked right past us and didn't even have a clue...but we grow in number daily.

There are several photographers who've taken it upon themselves to capture our broken beauty. They want the world to know our secret...that we are still struggling, still fighting, still strong. When I first saw the Scar project online, I was amazed. It was so tastefully done. David Jay came up with the concept for this project. He is a professional photographer who has been shooting fashion and beauty for over 15 years. His images have appeared in a multitude of international magazines and advertising campaigns. Jay's stark, bold portraits challenge traditional perceptions of breast cancer and capture the raw beauty, strength and character of so many extraordinary young women. Each portrait represents a singular, stripped-down vision of the life-changing journey that unites survivors of this horrific disease.

After I finished watching the video, I wondered if I could possibly be brave enough to bare my scars for public scrutiny...I don't think I could. It's still too raw, but maybe some day. I applaud these women who choose to reveal themselves so unashamedly. They are the brave ones. They have real courage.

Another such project, the Grace Project, takes a different turn. It's still very tastefully done but Isis Charise,  the photographer, portrays the art of the Hellenistic period. She poses her subjects to reflect statues that have survived throughout history. These statues have missing body parts such as the famous statue of Venus de Milo. Isis thought it would be fitting to portray women who've undergone mastectomy in this fashion. The artwork is beautiful but I don't think I could ever be one of her subjects. I'm too private, although it would be an honor to be photographed so beautifully.

It amazes me that such talented photographers want to shoot such graphic images. Their abilities to soften and beautify the subjects with such love, respect, and grace is a true gift. Some people find such artistic displays difficult to accept because they don't follow the normal channel of what we conceive as art. Oliver Platt said, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," but I'm more inclined to agree with Martha Beck who says, "Although beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, the feeling of being beautiful exists solely in the mind of the beheld." I can be told all day long that I am beautiful, but unless I feel beautiful, it doesn't seem to matter.

No one can truly understand the emotional and physical devastation that breast cancer creates in a woman's life unless  they experience it first hand. These artistic images can help those who have not come close to it yet feel the raw reality. I hope you'll take time to view the two short video clips I've listed below. Let me warn you in advance, they are very graphic. Though hard to see, I hope they will touch your heart and help you see that while we, as breast cancer survivors, are broken, we are still beautiful.

© bonnie annis all rights reserved.


The Grace Project

The Scar Project

Demi Lovato Believe in Me

Doctors may surprise you

Night before last, I tossed and turned all night long. I just couldn't get to sleep. No matter what I did, sleep would not come. I know my insomnia was partly due to stressing out about visiting my oncologist. I tried not to worry. I tried not to even think about the visit at all but I couldn't help it. I don't like confrontation. I've done my best to avoid it at all costs. How would the doctor respond when I told him point blank that I was not going to do what he wanted me to do? And who was I, to think I had this right?

The clock kept ticking down the hours until it was almost time to go. I looked at my husband through tear filled eyes. He knew. Without me saying one single word, he knew. He knew I was afraid. 

As we got into the car, he took my hand and held it all the way to the doctor's office. I was so thankful he'd taken the day off work to go with me. He's such a sweetheart! We pulled into a parking spot and I looked up at him. "I don't want to do this," I said. He said he understood and that maybe, just maybe the doctor would listen and not give me a hard time. That's what I was hoping for...

The nurse called my name and took me back to the scale. Oh how I hate the scale! It's so intimidating. It would be so nice if his office, like my breast surgeon's office, didn't even have a scale. (My breast surgeon says there's no point in it. I agree with her, but I guess oncologists have to keep up with how much weight their patient's are losing...if only I could lose.) 

After the weigh in, the nurse ushered us into an exam room. She brought in the little rolling vital sign machine thingy (I'm not sure what the real medical term is but it has the blood pressure cuff, digital thermometer and pulse oximeter all in one.) Here we go again. She recorded my vital signs on the computer and said the doctor would be in shortly.

About ten minutes passed before I heard a slight knock at the door.  Dr. Feinstein entered the room and greeted my husband and I. He sat down on his little rolling doctor's stool and rolled over close. "So how are you feeling?," he said. I told him I was feeling really good and I knew it was coming...then he said, "so tell me about your decision not to take the medicines? I got the voicemail you'd left on the nurse's line." Oh snap! Now what did I say??? Where did I begin? 

I don't stutter but boy I wish'd at that moment I had because it would have bought me some more time. Slowly and quietly, I began to explain that I'd decided to take a more natural approach to healing. "Tell me what you mean," said the doc, "what kind of things are you doing?" I told him that I'd done a lot of research on natural things that helped with cancer recovery. I explained that I'd decided to eliminate sugar from my diet as well as processed foods. I told him I was trying to do more raw fruits and vegetables. He nodded his head still listening attentively. I told him I'm incorporating organic green tea into my diet, 2 or 3 times a day, and that I'd found information on Ashwaganha root that sounded interesting. He continued to listen and I waited for the comeback.

I talked a little longer on essential oils and Chlorophyll, and then I was quiet. 

The doctor looked me straight in the eyes and I thought oh, no...he's going to berate me now. I braced. The silence was deafening. I couldn't stand it any longer and I said, "Dr. Feinstein, I've done a lot of praying about it. I just don't feel the medications are right for me. I know you're a man of faith (he's Jewish) and I know you understand where I'm coming from." And then he spoke.

I was amazed when he said he had no problem with the green tea. (I guess medical research has proven the benefits in using it with cancer patients.) He said, "I understand your desire not to take the medication. You've already tried 2 and they didn't work for you. If you'd only tried one, I would have encouraged you to try another, but in your case, you've given it your best shot." (Wow, I was impressed. This wasn't what I expected.) He told me that there were many "remedies" out there claiming to cure cancer and that I'd have to be very careful. I explained to him that I do a lot of research before trying anything new that affects my health. He told me just to be wise. He said he didn't want me to spend a lot of money trying one thing after another. I told him I wouldn't. 

Walking over to the exam table he patted the paper protective layer indicating he wanted me to hop up there so he could check me out. He listened to my lungs and heart. He looked in my throat. He asked if I'd been having any headaches that wouldn't go away, any bone/joint pain, any stomach pain and I responded no to all of them. I knew he was asking these questions to determine whether the cancer might be spreading in my body, but I didn't let on that I knew why he was asking these questions. 

When he was done with the exam, he said, "you know, the cancer may never come back but if it does, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, you keep doing your natural plan and I'll check your blood work ever 3 months. If anything starts to go off track, we'll address that then." I knew that was the best I was going to get from a medical professional. 

Dr. Feinstein started toward the door and I asked if he was going to do blood work today. He said it would be a good idea and went to get the nurse to tell her. When he came back into the room, I asked if he'd let me take a picture with him. I told him I was trying to document my journey for my children and grandchildren. He was nice enough to agree to the photo. 

Before he left, I told him I had been afraid to come see him for this appointment. He looked at me strangely and said, "Why? I never want you to be afraid of me." I told him I didn't think he'd agree to be my doctor if I didn't agree to his prescribed medical treatment and he said, "if all of my patients did exactly what I said, it would be pretty boring and I'd be treating a bunch of robots. It's your body and you know it best. You have a right to refuse any treatment you feel isn't for you." At that point, I wanted to jump up and give him a high five or a great big bear hug but I didn't. I just smiled a big smile and breathed in a sigh of relief. I had stressed out about this visit for nothing! I was so glad my doctor agreed to support me. It was so encouraging. 

One last thing before he left the room. He wanted me to see a nutritionist. If I was going to do a natural healing approach, he said it was important to see a nutritionist. He explained that my cancer was fed by both Estrogen and Progesterone and to keep the cancer from recurring, we needed to stop the Estrogen in my body as much as possible. Estrogen is made by your ovaries, your adrenal gland, and by fat cells. Since I was already post menopausal, we didn't have to worry about the ovaries but, I could stand to lose a little weight. In fact, Doctor Feinstein said the more weight I could lose, the better. With cancer it was better to be skinny! So, next week I have an appointment with a nutritionist. 

Maybe it would have been easier and more convenient to just pop a few pills to ward off the cancer. It's going to take a lot of effort to go the natural healing route, but I know that's the path God has pointed me toward. I really want to live as long as I possibly can and anything I can do to facilitate that objective...well, I'm all in! 

My thoughts: 

I'm going to keep close tabs on my lab reports from each visit forward. I've determined not only to be my own best health advocate but also to partner with my oncologist to obtain the best results. It's going to take time to get used to drinking all that organic Matcha Tea. It tastes pretty nasty. Taking the Ashwaganha root capsules, the DDR essential oil capsules, the Zendocrine capsules, the Chlorophyll capsules and all my vitamins, cutting out the sugar and processed foods, trying to lose weight and walking more than ever before will be challenging but hopefully, it will allow my body to regenerate good cells that can keep the cancerous ones at bay. If I can create a healthy cellular environment in my body, my chances of recurrence will greatly diminish. I'm pumped about seeing the changes to come in the days ahead. I'm so happy Dr. Feinstein didn't jump my case about going natural. I need to eliminate stress from my life and the tendency to worry. Hopefully the nutritionist can help me see where I need to revamp my diet. I don't think I eat enough protein.