I had a lot on my plate in the summer and early fall of 2010.  I was adjusting to my dad’s passing from lung cancer, I hadn’t truly processed my grief yet, striving to keep things ‘normal’ for my kids, Aidan and Kyra, and figuring out how I was going to survive the brain tumor that I had just been diagnosed with.  It was a very difficult time.  I walked around in a fog a lot.  I was good at appearances and was able to keep the house functioning fine, but the burden was immense.  I didn’t really have anyone that I was confiding in because everybody around me was as distraught as I was about the diagnosis.  I was on my own to pick myself up emotionally because I discovered very quickly that sharing my fears with others did not make me feel better.  It made me feel a whole lot worse as they, almost always, would start to cry and worry.  I knew, even in those very early days, that I needed strength and hope, not fear, around me.  In many ways, cancer that conventional oncology can’t ‘cure’ is very isolating.  Breast Cancer has pink ribbons, walks and races.  It tends to unite people behind your cause, mainly because people feel there is a decent chance that you can survive it, although I continue to read case after case of people healing themselves of breast cancer completely naturally and gently and am happy to provide links to those stories to anyone interested.

When you are given an ‘incurable’ diagnosis none of your family and friends has any idea how to support you.  I understand that completely and would have reacted the same exact way.  So many wonderful friends and family tried, but they were all feeling hopeless and, as a result, I found myself pulling back within myself to protect my fragile psyche.  I don’t mean to say that I didn’t go out, not the case at all, but I kept myself in a shell, and answered the very common question “How are you holding up?” with “I’m doing great”.

I have always been an introvert, which in this situation was a tremendous blessing, as I began to find solace in my own company.  I made my recovery my job.  I researched hours upon hours everything related to cancer under the sun.  I started with the conventional sites, but they provided me no hope, only an expiration date.  I pretty quickly started finding holistically-focused sites and hopeful indications online.  I also had my first appointment with Mark Mincolla, my amazing nutritionist, and the first person to illuminate my path to wellness.  Things were looking up and I had the beginning of a plan.  My dear friend Kelly gave me a sign just this past Christmas saying “You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.”  Right On!

I found my strength, I found my hope and I began to inch forward.  The diet shift was challenging to say the least.  I went from eating processed non-food crap to eating steamed vegetables, no sugar, lean protein.  My body balked many, many times.  I had what are commonly referred to as ‘die off’ reactions when large amounts of pathogens (fungus, viruses, bacteria) began to be expelled from my body.  It wasn’t fun, but it was encouraging.  I began to feel emotionally powerful.  I no longer asked ‘why me’, but instead stated ‘thank you’.  I discovered a complete and profound knowingness that I would be well again.  I did not realize how long it would take, mind you, but I now understand why each twist and turn was needed for discovering my life purpose.  In the meantime though, I needed some moral support.

The mall close to our house used to have a pet store.  I truly hated that they still kept puppies in little cages, but I had been taking my kids, Aidan and Kyra there once a month for a couple of years prior to select a puppy and take it out of the cage to play for 30 minutes.  I thought it was great for the puppy to feel the connection to humans and great for the kids and I to shower this creature with love.  In June (prior to my dad’s passing and my diagnosis) a shih tzu showed up at the store.  This little lady was so stinkin cute.  Each month (June, July, August, September) this little cutie sat in her crate waiting for a family.  As time passed, her price dropped from $1,600 down to $1,200 down to $800.  I mentioned her to my husband at some point (probably August), but he said taking on a puppy wasn’t too wise at the moment.  I agreed and continued to hope that someone would see the gem that she was.  Sadly, nobody wants an older puppy and she became very matted over time.  In October, she was almost 7 months old, having lived a miserable existence in a crate, in a pet store, in a mall.  Prior to that she was born in a puppy mill in Iowa.  I don’t think she ever saw grass in her first 7 months of life and probably only glimpsed at sunshine during her transport from Iowa to Massachusetts.

One Tuesday morning in mid-October I was walking out of Borders Books, across from the pet store, and decided to swing in to make sure that she had found a home…but she was still there!  Her price had been dropped to $400 that morning.  I called Mike at work and told him that I needed her and she needed me.  In a moment of weakness, my good husband relented.  We already had 2 yellow labs at home and a serious disease to contend with, but what’s one more?

So I took her in my arms.  I named her Joy on the spot.  Don’t tell my kids!  I have always maintained that she came with the name “Joy’ otherwise her name likely would have been ‘Pikachu’ or some other crazy Pokemon character, Aidan & Kyra’s show of choice in those days.  So I bought myself some Joy, the best purchase I ever made.  I bought a collar, a leash and a crate, and carried her out of the store.  To say I was winging it is an understatement.  I had never had a little dog.  At 7 months she wasn’t going to be getting very much bigger.  To this day she weighs 12 pounds.  I had no idea how my labs would react and was so grateful that they accepted her as part of the pack immediately.  She looked like a running white and beige rug as her hair had never been cut.  When the kids got off the bus that day I simply said “go look in the backyard.”  They fell in love too, as did Mike when he got home.

She was amazing right from the start although house breaking was a nightmare as the poor thing hadn’t been trained in 7 months.  I discovered that little dog accidents are way better than big dog accidents though.  She became my shadow.  When I needed a hug, she was there, as were my other beautiful pups Riley and Casey.  She snuggled up so tight on me each night on the couch and I simply adore her.  When you are an animal lover you totally get the unconditional love that they feel for you.  The best part for me was that she could have cared less about the brain tumor.  There is amazing comfort in being with a creature who loves you for you and simply wants to be in your presence, no questions and no judgment.

Joy, Riley (rest in peace) and Casey (rest in peace) have brought me so much comic relief, peace and excuses for exercising that I truly feel as though they have rescued me.  The only reason that I started walking at Bay Farm was for their benefit.  Then I began to really soak it in.  It started with the antics of watching them greet other dogs on the trails (lots of ‘sniffing’), but soon turned into noticing the birds signing, the branches swaying in the wind, the crickets chirping, the fragrance of the ocean, the flowers, the grass and the dirt.  My canine friends awakened my connection to nature.  It is a profound aspect of my recovery, my strength and my inner joy.

In looking back, I see that my decision to take Joy home was a powerful statement to the Universe that I wanted to live.  I would never have taken her if I truly felt I wasn’t going to be around to take care of her.  I was declaring my intention to get well.  Yes, Joy needed me to rescue her from her lonely existence, but I needed her just as much.  I hope that as you embrace the challenges that present themselves to you for your benefit and growth, that you can find comfort in something around you that relieves your burden.  Truly, “who rescued who?”.