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The Fear of this Journey-A woman fights Colon Cancer

Posted on June 26, 2014 by | 0 views

i am a care taker in an illegal country.. don't use my name


this is all of our stories. I see it in the group all the time.. We are not alone.We all have these thoughts... BUT you really will get past them.. Talk about them. WE are human, so let us stick together. Talk about it with us.. we are feelling the same.... I always thought I was what they call a "tough cookie." In fact, up until one year ago, there was nothing I could not accomplish, I had tons of confidence and an inner strength that I thought had served me well. Then I was told I had colon cancer. At first, I had plenty of inner reserves left in me to handle the news with lots of resolve and a real positive attitude. But then something happened. After five long, awful months of dealing with it and going through two diagnostic procedures where "complications" began (**FROM THE PROCEDURES**), I began to feel extremely fragile and at the "mercy" of my illness and my doctors. I had zero trust left in any medical professional. Walking in for another invasive exam became a traumatic event for me. In those five months, I went from a strong-minded, intelligent, "take care of business" woman to someone who became physically paralyzed with fear. The fear quickly consumed me. And when I say "CONSUME," I mean it. It defined me. It followed me from room to room. It inhabited every single decision I made. I became unable or unwilling to do simple things, like the dishes or having a casual conversation on the phone with a friend. It was as if the weight of the fear was swallowing me up. All I could think about every single waking moment was all the unknowns. "What if the next test shows it's progressed?" "What if they tell me I need some more invasive procedures that don't fix anything and just cause me more pain?" WHAT IF? became my daily mantra and my prison. I had been reduced to someone I didn't recognize and someone I didn't know even inhabited me. It was like a scared child part of me that had risen up and was strangling the very life out of me. My husband, wonderful man that he is, became unable to get through to me with "logic" and calm words. I didn't believe a thing he said to me. I countered each of his positive comments with two negative ones. From where I sat, there was no hope, no chance and utter, complete destruction of my body, mind and soul. Eventually, I retreated to my bed, a captive of my mind. I cannot begin to tell you the nightmare that followed. When your mind fucks with you, it's all over. I mean it. I learned firsthand how powerful and how fucking evil your own mind can become. I didn't want anyone touching me, I couldn't talk to anyone on the phone and, after vomiting one day, I convinced myself that I would throw up any food I was given. I've never been to war, but I'll tell you one thing. I GET IT NOW. I have so much understanding and true compassion for those guys and gals who come back with PTSD. I understand why they kill themselves. I can absolutely see with "new" eyes what they are up against when they come back here. That paralyzing fear that just grips you and starts that low quiver in your gut that builds and builds and builds until you are a fucking wreck. God bless those broken souls. I get it. So, there I was. A total and complete puddle of nothing. I was losing more weight and, while hungry, convinced that I would reject it so I didn't even bother. I cried all the time. Sometimes, I was reduced to a shaking, sobbing mess on the floor of the bathroom. I wasn't crying for myself. I was crying for the loss of who I *used* to be....that strong, confident woman who had taken on the world and done really well. I was also mourning the loss of my healthy relationship with my husband who had started to retreat from me out of self-preservation. He gently suggested psychoactive drugs like Xanax and Prozac, in an attempt to pull me out of this severe anxiety and massive fear. But those scared the shit out of me and I refused them. When you are swallowed up like this, I swear to God there is some dark, evil force that holds you hostage. It's that darkness that convinces an intelligent woman that the "only solution" is to kill herself. And that's what I began to focus on: Dying. One night, I lay in bed sobbing. I had allowed fear to smother me and I saw no way out. I had never been a religious person but I said a prayer to anyone who wanted to hear me. I realized in that moment how I'd minimized other people's pain and suffering and taken the "stiff upper lip" approach with them when THEY really needed comfort and a calm, reassuring voice. In that moment, I felt the pain and fear of all those people I'd told to "tough it out" and how that harsh approach had made THEM feel. That reality was nothing short of gut wrenching. I wanted to reach out to all of them and apologize from the depths of my heart. I reached out to one of those people. And I guess I was led to the right person. Through a lot of tears, I apologized to her on the phone for how I'd treated her when she was ill. To my shock, she wanted to come see me. At first I told her 'no' but she insisted. She showed up with a joint and basically told me to shut up and smoke it. I took a few hits and 10 minutes later, my mind became more still. All the chatter that had occupied my head for those five brutal months was fading into the background. When I tried to get my mind to retrieve it (the worry), it was as if the cannabis was acting like a gatekeeper, not allowing me to fuck with the progress the pot was delivering. I stopped fighting the need to feel anxiety and allowed the cannabis to work. That feeling lasted for about one hour and then I needed another few hits. But once it wore off, I was right back to panic mode. I called my friend and she told me she was going to bring over "something different" for me to try. That something different was a capsule which held 25 mg. of Cannabis oil....what I learned was the non-psychoactive cannabinoid in the plant. I liked the high from the joint and so I wasn't too keen to take something that didn't get me loaded. I figured I needed to "get loaded" to forget, much like I used to drink a few glasses of red wine at night to "relax" but really to "forget." But she insisted I take the capsule. I agreed and two hours later, my life changed. When that capsule kicked in, I felt this extreme warmth start from the top of my head and work down to the soles of my feet. It was like a blanket that calmed and comforted me like nothing else had ever done. I noticed that my months of shallow breathing changed. It was "safe" to take in a breath. I know that sounds weird but even breathing becomes scary when you're this far into panic as I was. And then it was as if something "clicked" in my head. I can't describe it really. But all I can tell you is that part of me that was still good and worth saving finally showed up. Whatever that part was, it told me that I was OK and that I could get out of bed and walk downstairs and have a protein shake and that if I did that, I could maybe do more. Just the simple act of preparing a protein shake, drinking it all down and not throwing it up was like climbing Mt. Everest to me. My courage was coming back. I washed a few dishes and then some more and then some more. When my husband came home, he was nothing short of shocked. "Whatever you did today, keep doing it," he said with a smile. And I did. I got an MMJ card and all I took were those Cannabis oil capsules. One day, I took 75 mg. and it was as if I'd found the missing link to every single issue in my life at that time. The dark voice receded as the Cannabis took over. I realize now that I NEEDED Cannabis in the same way I needed water and food to sustain myself. That was tough for me to conceptualize but it was working so I wasn't going to mind fuck my way out of it. The true test came when I had to go to the hospital for another round of invasive tests. I'd avoided them because of what had happened before. But with tons of Cannabis circulating in my body by that day, and popping 50 mg. of Cannabis oil two hours prior to the test on an empty stomach, I lay on that table and felt such calm and inner peace, I can't even describe it. I was NOT high one bit. But I was present for once. I could communicate my concerns (NOT FEAR) to the technician and he seemed to be more willing to cooperate. Without the coat of fear, anxiety and panic edging every word I spoke, I realized that he could better hear me and through that, the whole process was nearly painless. The little pain I had during the procedure was truly nothing because it was finally in context. IN CONTEXT. When fear, anxiety and paralyzing panic RULE YOU, it colors every single other aspect of your reality. It removes the context of what is really happening. You build up these walls of fear that prevent you from seeing what is really occurring. Once that happens, your mind takes over, lies to you and convinces you that "you're fucked." With Cannabis intake, it seems that your sanity comes back. It's like the voice of reason shows up again and talks you down off that proverbial tower. One's inner reserves (that you didn't even know you had left!!!) return and you realize that you DO have the strength and the resolve to find a way through it. Today I'm in remission. And I think it's in part to the massive amount of Cannabis I've been taking. I also give credit to the inner work I've done on releasing my need to "be right" and to accept people and situations for who and what they are. I think in many ways the Cannabis has helped make that happen. It's not psychoactive but it puts you in a different place mentally that allows your mind to process incoming information more effectively. I cannot say that Cannabis completely removes fear or anxiety but it sure damps it down enough to get your mind to stop destroying you. A mind is a terrible to waste, as they say. But boy, can the mind turn on you and destroy you if you allow it. My own experience tells me that by feeding your body and brain Cannabis, you are ingesting a nutrient like none other. You are flooding your body with something that it desperately needs and when you give your body this nutrient, the body reacts quickly, like water soaking into a dry sponge. I would never wish the hell I put myself through on anyone. But I acknowledge that I put myself through it. And I imagine there are a lot of other women and men out there who might benefit from hearing my story. I'm committed to telling anyone who will listen about how Cannabis can bring you back from the brink. If there are people out there suffering from PTSD, check into it please. I know it will help you a lot. I have my life back but more importantly, I have my perspective back. That dark voice still comes around occasionally and tries to badger me into submission. But I brush it off my shoulder like a bothersome gnat. The way I choose to see it, the Cannabis is like a beacon of pure light that shines determination and a sense that it's all going to be OK in the end into my body. I hope my story helps others and encourages them to give Cannabis a chance for them. Without the crutch of fear, it's amazing what you are capable of doing.

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