Facing Struggles - Learning to Dance in the Face of Fear

 This past week has been both exhilarating and deeply concerning.  I debated whether to write about a health concern that affects my life, my family, my dissertation journey. I don't know how it affects me yet, I'm awaiting biopsy results. 

I decided to share it, here on this platform because this news is part of my dissertation journey. 

First, I want to share that I completed three pláticas last week and each was unique, precious and healing. I'm thankful to the three Catholic women priests who opened their lives to me, their gifts, their struggles and joys. I learned that a fourth woman priest is willing to join the study. We'll have our conversation at the end of February. I haven't heard from the other women priests yet. I'll reach out to them next week. 

I let my dissertation committee know about the health issues I'm facing and also shared that I'm grateful to have this study to work on during this time. I almost cancelled a plática because I learned of the health issue just hours before my meeting with the priest. But I'm so thankful I went through with it because I was able to experience what I am studying, that pláticas heal. They not only heal the person who is talking but also the person who is listening, me in this instance. What a blessing. Oh, and I found out that the day I spoke with one of the priests, it was the fourth anniversary of her ordination. We were amazed and pleased at the synchronicity of our plática. 

I chose this quote because Anzaldúa faced tremendous pain and illness in her life. Her example of living with struggles is an inspiration to me. Her words help me, support me, heal me. May I always choose to dance!

A few months ago I began having sinus issues, in particular, I lost my sense of smell. I was tested for COVID-19 several times, the results were negative. Health care providers prescribed several rounds of antibiotics and steroids but nothing would allow me to breath through my left nostril. Not even my trusted nasal flushes would work. The nostril was completely blocked.

After this route didn't work, my primary care physician wanted to see me in person (I had only telephone or online appointments up to that point). She examined my nostril and agreed it was blocked, yep, I knew that. She sent me to an ENT (ears, nose, throat) doctor. I was able to get an appointment within a few weeks right before the new year. The ENT checked my left nostril, "oh, yeah, something is in there." She swabbed the area (turned out it had a bacteria, I got on another round of antibiotics, it didn't unblock the sinus); she scoped my right nostril and throat and everything looked good. This was good and not so good, good that no polyps were present, but on the other hand if polyps were present on one side then more than likely polyps would be on the other side. The blockage was likely a mass, she thought. She ordered a sinus CT scan. 

When I left the ENT's office, I felt a calmness. From my vehicle, I called two of my dear friends and my sister. Calmness prevailed. I called my daughter and heard her concern, "Are you afraid mom?" I didn't feel afraid right then and there. After we got off the phone, the tears flowed, my throat felt like hot lava was sitting at its base. I decided to practice "lion's breath," I roared, and cried out "No, no, no . . ." I was leaning into the heat, the feeling but also I observed myself.  I thought of the time when I climbed a 14,600 ft dormant Mexican volcano with a dear friend. As we ascended we paused and practiced lion's breath and laughed and laughed. I let it all out that day in the car too and ended up laughing. I'm fierce and funny. 

The CT scan was scheduled in the first week of January 2021. The following week after the scan I got a call from the ENT, who told me it was a mass. She was concerned because the mass seemed to be pushing against the bones of my left eye, which explained why I began seeing double and my vision was blurry. The mass could be heading toward my brain. At that point, I think I stopped listening. It's even hard to write that line. The doctor wanted to raise the level of care and wanted me to see a rhinologist, a specialist who can perform surgery through the nose. She wanted me to get a MRI and to see an ophthalmologist to see how the eye had moved.  She paused and asked me how I was feeling. I checked in to my body, my heart, my soul. "Scared," I replied.

When I got off the phone I wanted to hear my gentleman friend's voice, I called him, my voice trembling I told him the news. He said the most reassuring thing, he has a way of saying what I need to hear. When I said, "I'll get through this." He immediately added, "We'll get through this!" I called several of my dear friends, my sister and later I told my adult children. The outpouring of support is beautiful. 

I'm not sure how I was able to make the calls to the rhinologist/ENT and ophthalmologist and make the appointment for the MRI, but I did. Everyone was so caring and wanted to help. The ENT agreed to see me within a couple of days (when I first asked for an appointment, I was told I could possibly get seen in early February) and the MRI and ophthalmologist appointments are scheduled on the same day, this coming Thursday. My sister graciously agreed to drive me to the appointments (I can't drive right now because I see double and have difficulty focusing).

I had the appointment with the ENT/rhinologist last Friday. My sister drove me and was able to be with me during the appointment. He told me that based on the CT scan the mass was a tumor and that it had penetrated the eye bone. He used an instrument that looked like a thin metal straw with a light and a camera at the end that he inserted up the left nostril. I saw the tumor on a monitor that was connected to the camera; it completely blocked my nostril, it seemed to have a shiny sheath covering it. It bled a little. Throughout the past month or so, it's been discharging mucous with tinges of blood. The doctor decided to take a biopsy so we could find out if it is malignant or benign.  As he took part of tumor,  I decided to meditate, to close my eyes and go within, to breathe, to trust. I got a really good sense about him. I did check out the tumor afterwards and it was missing a big chunk. My sister said the doctor took like 5 pieces. 

The doctor explained that he would consult a board of other healthcare providers about my case. After he gets the results of the MRI and the ophthalmologist's report he is planning to perform surgery to remove the tumor. My sister asked questions to clarify certain points and she took notes. I'm so thankful for her diligence. 

That same day and the next I reached out to many friends and family members with a simple request: Prayers please. I mostly texted folks, but I called my kids. I attended a meditation/prayer meeting, (Centering Prayer) group and I heard the most beautiful passage: 

"My trust is in the Lord. All my hope is in God's mercy." 

I have received so many prayers of support, love and care. Tears fall not because I'm scared or worried, but in a joy/pain of how loved I feel. A dear friend wrote: 

"I also pray for this situation to present the best possible outcome for your soul's growth."

How perfect is that?! I feel like the most blessed person I know. I want to learn from this experience and grow into an even more loving person.  I don't feel alone. 

When I was studying for the state bar (to get my lawyer's license), I asked every person I would meet to pray for me, my friends, my family (my momma and daddy's prayers were especially powerful), the cashier at the grocery store. I'd say, "If I randomly come to mind, say a quick prayer for me. I'm probably crying out for one." The day I sat for the bar examination I walked into the testing center feeling like I was the most prayed for person taking that test. I probably was. 

Now as I face this new struggle, prayers abound, the outpouring is overwhelming, my heart is overflowing and like when I took the bar, I am so well prayed for . . . 

Gracias Dios Mio, Gracias Madre Maria. 

Thank You for your prayers.