The Awakening

I just read a pretty inspiring article from the on-line yoga journal that I absolutely have to share. It just so happens to discuss where I am at right now, and hopefully where you too will someday be, if not already. Take a couple of minutes for yourself and read it. A little gift in disguise...

Jose Ramirez

Jose Ramirez is not just a phlebotomist at Tower Oncology, he is the phlebotomist. I feel the need to share a little about this phenomenal man with you and all that he has done for me. He truly is a remarkable human being. First of all, he never misses an IV start. It's pretty incredible. He gets your vein on the first shot, every time. Legend has it at Tower that he once started an IV in the dark! Another one echoed is that he could start an IV on a tomato! Yes, he is that incredible and needless to say, always very busy at Tower. Besides his meticulousness, he did something else for me which I can never forget. He gave me strength when I needed it the most. You see, I never got a port because in the beginning of my diagnosis, I was only supposed to only get 4 treatments and due to my young age, we figured that my veins could handle it (I later went on to have 6 treatments because I passed up radiation for more chemo--more about this for another post). However, the very first day of chemo, I was overwhelmed with a combination of fear, anxiety, stress and mostly, a deep sadness. I felt lost. I felt like I needed to show everyone that I was strong, however I didn't feel an ounce of strength. After Dr. Dunhill did her examination, I had a moment to myself in the exam room with my boyfriend, Elijah. We both just sat there. Afraid. Speechless. I just could not muster up the courage to walk through the door and to the treatment area. And I could tell that my dear Elijah felt just as lost. So I did what I resort to whenever I feel this dispirited: I started to cry. Tears kept flowing over and running down my cheeks. There was no stopping them. Elijah too. He had them coming down his cheeks. And then, before I knew it, Jose popped his head in the room and simply asked "Is everything OK in here?" and stepped into the room. How he knew to come in is beyond me, for I turned my back to him immediately and told him I was fine but just "needed a minute." Unknown to me at the time, however, was just how badly I did need Jose at that very moment. He sat me down and asked me what the matter was. I told him everything: my fears, concerns, sadness, you name it. I even mentioned my apprehensiveness with needles and the fear that my IV wouldn't be solid and the chemo would leak into my arm and cause damage (did I mention I have a very vivid imagination). He immediately told me "I never miss a vein, so your fear about the chemo leaking can be put aside." Then he looked me straight in the eyes very steadily and said the most important thing that I have learned from this entire experience: "Life is life, and whatever comes your way, you just have to roll with it." I suddenly snapped out of my head-space and realized that he was right. Life is life. And granted, you cannot control what happens, so when life happens, you might as well roll with it the best you can.  My tears dried up instantly. Elijah looked like he had a wave of relief wash over his face too. Then Jose told me that no matter how busy things got, he would always make time for me to start my IV so that I need not worry. He has held to that ever since. And the most amazing thing about all of this, is he is the most modest man. I have to say I tell him I love him every time I see him, and to that, he just smiles and gives me the biggest hug. After he started my IV that day, and left the room, I was able to grab Elijah's hand and walk through the door for my first infusion. Calmly, confidently and at peace, I learned a life lesson that day. I dedicate this post to Jose Ramirez, a master at his craft and a guru in disguise...

Roll With It

Photo courtesy of A.P.C.

I've finally gotten everything together to put up my blog and it feels really great. My name is Lili and I just wanted to share with anyone who has been affected by Hodgkins, be it directly, family-related, or maybe your friend has just been diagnosed, the experience I've had and continue to have. Although now a cancer survivor, I am still finishing up with treatment. I've been meaning to put this together for a very long time now. Before I post anything more, just a couple of things: I'm not a doctor, a healer, or an expert. I am a 28 year old artist who had the shock of her life when diagnosed with Hodgkins the day after her 28th birthday! Needless to say it has been a strange and beautiful experience; I've felt just about every emotion in the book, have gone through a bunch of tests, have done a ton of reading, and have come to the conclusion that maybe I can be of help to someone out there going through this. I am still me, and what I mean by that is I still embrace art and beauty, hence the images I'm going to post, the poetry, the blogs etc. I'd like to share words and beauty. Cancer is such a scary thing, such a scary process; I'd like to make this blog different. Please leave your comments! Let me know what you think. All we can ever really do is roll with it...