heart/spirit side of things (and some more nerdy facts)

Yesterday and today have been pretty challenging emotionally. Monday morning began with the news that the tumors are "triple-negative," which limits treatment options somewhat and increases the chances that this cancer is resulting from a genetic mutation. Don & I were not on the same page in the morning about seeking out these results, and bickered some about the basement remodeling plan. We did manage to "process" our disconnection/disagreement in the waiting room before the genetic counselors' appointment, which helped. The counselors (Amy Stettner and a student) were great, and were able to adjust their canned presentation to our PhD brains (Don is trained as a botanist and I studied the History of Science including reading Mendel in the original, so they skipped the part about what chromosomes are and how you inherit things...). With the help of these brains and some text-consultation with my MD-professor-sister-in-law Margot, we decided which genetic testing we wanted to get. The main "culprit" that it's likely to be is the BRCA1 & 2 gene mutations which are more common among people of Ashkenazi Jewish heritage. Even though there is no history of the usual cancers associated with these mutations in my family (breast and ovarian), the fact that it is bilateral, that I'm young, and that it's triple-negative makes this more likely. If I do have one of these mutations, it makes opting for mastectomy more likely, and also perhaps prophylactic removal of ovaries (!). 

Don and I were both exhausted and a bit depressed after that visit, and didn't sleep super well last night (I kept dreaming that I was forgetting to take some kind of medication that I needed to stay alive), though I did work out and take some time to do some meditation and jo practice (an Aikido form using a wooden staff), and commune with my favorite tree in the backyard, that I've been using in a meditation Suzanne suggested. I explored the unopened buds of little white woodland flowers under it, and leaned back against it, as I imagine doing in the meditation. Suzanne had suggested this meditation before my diagnosis, and I had reluctantly picked that tree, because about a third of it is diseased or dead and the arborist told us when we moved in 11 years ago we would have to take it down in a few years, so I didn't want to get too attached to it. But it has proved amazingly resilient, and continues to create habitat for many creatures, and beauty visible from our kitchen and back patios.  I stepped away from it to look up at the diseased part, and contemplated how a being can continue to thrive with disease. Just then, a hawk landed on a branch of the tree directly above my head. I was gasping -- with wonder and with a bit of fear it might shit on me. A downy woodpecker came to forage on the rotting part of the tree. After a moment of us looking at each other, the hawk flew away. Hawk Medicine. Watch, and listen. I felt so grateful that, when I stop and notice, I don't need to look further than my own backyard for this sense of wonder and communion with the natural world. Perhaps a hammock is in my summer plans.

Today before the visit with the surgeon I went for a walk in Olin Turville woods, remembering when I used to walk there a lot when I first moved to Madison 23 years ago. I remember the turmoil of youth -- not knowing what the future would hold, whether I would have a partner and work that I loved.... now, the turmoil is about my fear of losing what I have found. I spent some time in the embrace of a huge oak tree that also had a significant number of dead limbs, and watered it with some tears.

The additional biopsies ordered today are, literally, quite a pain, but I am somewhat relieved to be planning to start chemo soon (cf. my nightmares last night!!)  

Sleep well,

Becca