I was so nervous for yesterday.

I took the chemo, lotioned up my with feet extra extra lotion, took some Imodium, Chinese herbs, packed my pills and herbs and water bottles, and off we went.

I emotionally was worried because I had just spoken to my friend who is in so much pain about an accident. I also discovered that my friend had passed from stage four cancer the day before, and we are all in shock because she never let us know it had advanced to that stage. She had trouble breathing in June, they discovered the brain and liver Mets, she was in a coma for a month, then comfort care, then she was gone.

That freaking fast.

That’s the thing. You may look good on the outside. Then suddenly, it all falls apart quickly.

So going to see a broadway show about teen suicide was not exactly my first choice. Frozen, anyone?

We took the train in and then walked to the theatre.

Then I was blown away.

Yes, there was a lot of curse words and I was chaperoning a Girl Scout Troop. But they have heard worse at school.

It’s about a boy who feels invisible, Evan…and another boy who had mental health issues and was a bully, Connor. Connor stole a letter Evan wrote to himself, and then Connor killed himself. Connors family mistakenly believes Evan was a best friend to their son, and Evan ends up going along and making up stories that help the family heal. There’s more to the story, but you would have to see it for yourself.

I was doing great, enjoying the unbelievable songs… and then?

Evans mom sings a song, and at the end, she sings over and over how mommy will always be there for him. The woman in front of me was sobbing. The whole theatre was sobbing. I couldnt even look over at Morgan. Another on friend passed me a tissue and held my hand. They knew.

I’ve gotten good at being present in the moment, so as soon as the song ended, I took a deep breath and stayed in the present.

The show ended, all the parents hugged their kids, the kids thought their moms and dads were weird, and I hugged the woman who was in front of me because she just needed a hug.

We went to Ellen’s stardust diner and it was a great lighthearted much needed meal with waiters and waitresses singing.

We practically ran to penn station and caught the earlier train home, and I was back by 9:30.

Rob had taken Quinn to get his Boy Scout gear for his big camp week, and they had a “Bro day”.

Madison stayed home all day to work on her summer homework. I practically begged her to come with us, but she said she knew what the show was about and didn’t want to see it.

I knew why once I saw it.

Madison is like Evan in so many ways.

I get so angry with the pressures on these kids.

Take the AP class!

Go to the community college class in eleventh grade!

You’ve got to get ahead!!

Be involved! Do sports! Music! Clubs!

Get a job!

Add on social media.

Add on parents who work all the time.

And we wonder why people are so disconnected and angry and feel invisible in plain sight.

Yet no one teaches them how much they matter.

How to breathe.

How to be kind.

How what other people think of you doesn’t matter.

How sticking your tongues out in pictures isn’t nearly as pretty as a smile.

And we wonder why we have had two mass shootings in two days.

It’s mental health, people.

Screw AP classes. Screw College classes.

Screw social media. Screw being on the best sports teams.

Check… on… your… kids.

If they can handle it, great.

If not, great. Find what they can handle and feel successful at and cheer them on as they go down that path.

I’d rather have a happy mediocre kid than a stressed out high achiever any day of the week.

Being invisible is a horrible feeling. As a stage four diagnosed person, I’m invisible to many groups. We are scary to early stagers because they don’t want to be us. So they ignore the pink elephant in the room. We are invisible to advocacy groups because they focus on prevention, and stage four people die so quickly they figure we are a lost cause.

Lost and invisible.

It gives you empathy for teens who feel the same way.

We need to help the lost, the broken, the weird, the stressed, the anxious.

There is a song in the play that hits it all.

“Have you ever felt like nobody was there?

Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere?

Have you ever felt like you could disappear?

Like you could fall, and no one would hear?

Well, let that lonely feeling wash away

Maybe there’s a reason to believe you’ll be okay

‘Cause when you don’t feel strong enough to stand

You can reach, reach out your hand

And oh, someone will coming running

And I know, they’ll take you home

Even when the dark comes crashing through

When you need a friend to carry you

And when you’re broken on the ground

You will be found

So let the sun come streaming in

‘Cause you’ll reach up and you’ll rise again

Lift your head and look around

You will be found”

We need more people to look around and reach out their hands.

Find the lonely. The broken hearted.

Play hide and seek and hug and love.

Teach your kids to be nice.

Popularity doesn’t matter in the long run.

Being kind gets you further.

Today, may we all find each other.

May we all go running to the ones who reach out their hands.

Let the sun come stream in.

Be found.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

Yesterday was a day of calls and texts and knocks on my door that brought many emotions.

The first was a phone call about an accident. People I love were witness to it and heartbroken, in shock, and disbelief. I carried them in my heart all day.

Then the UPS man knocked on my door and left a large box full of crayons and glue sticks for my classroom. The kindness of others knows no bounds.

Then my phone rang, and it was the Mederi Center. Erin told me that after the director interviewed everyone… I’ve been the one chosen as the main story to film. There will be one other woman, but they felt my story would be the main one. The film crew will fly here in either September or October. They know I refuse to take off any days from school other than for hospital visits, and even those days I only take an hour or two, so they plan on filming during a weekend. They will take one whole day to set up and film and interview me in my house, then the next day they will follow me around on a typical day. I hope they can keep up.

They want to film me teaching, as they are all amazed I’m still going strong, so now I have to see if I can even use the classroom on a Sunday, see if I can have students come and be filmed hearing a story or something, and pray that apple and pumpkin traffic isn’t too bad. “Meet Keri, a local who is sitting in an hour of traffic to get to her school which is five minutes away on a good day.” I’m anxious, nervous, and hopeful that by sharing my story, others will see that almost three years after being told I could only have weeks, months, maybe a year or two…

I am still here.

Then I went to Madison’s talent show. I am always shocked to hear her stories and her loving her job because she always said she hated kids but man….she lights up when talking about her job as a counselor. She actually is in charge of former students of mine. She loves kids now, and even dances. As I watched the show, I got a text that took my breath away.

My friend Candy texted me that our friend Lisa died. I went to SUNY Cortland and lived on the second floor of Shea. Candy, Lisa, Laura, Jen, Cashia, Tiffny, Paige, Alison, Caroline…we were a crew. Lisa was funny and loving, and made me laugh. We would watch “Stealing Home” with Jodi foster and mark harmon on rainy days over and over. She once wrote a poem, “Ode to an Asshole” about a boy and hung it up on her dorm door for all to see. She was fierce, funny and loving. We stayed connected and when I was diagnosed she was one of the first people who reached out. She explained everything to me, as she had been through her own bout of stage three breast cancer. Candy also was one of the first people I saw the night I was told I had cancer and told me to take pictures and document every single day, because it will all become a blur.

So all of this posting and blogging?

Thank Candy.

Last summer when I was told there may be a chance I was oligometastatic and would start IV chemo the very next day, lisa was there for me every moment. We spent over an hour that night with her helping me breathe and her giving me every single trick. “Eat like you are about to go downtown to Woody’s. Soak that shit up.”

“Everyone else will be sleeping. Not you. Drink water the whole time like it’s your job and pee that shit out.”

“Get frozen peas and blueberries and put them in ziploc bags and then over your hands with socks. You’ll look like an ass, but you’ll save your hands and feet.”

“You can do this “.

Rob knows what she meant to me, as when I first went last summer for my very first IV chemo, I had just run to target to get socks,

Ziploc bags, a cooler, popsicles. We were at the deli getting my very first turkey sandwich in over a year, I was crying and barely breathing, rob knew that lisa kept sending me messages, telling me to get some sucking candy for when they first pushed the medicine, and I had to run across the street to my school to get hard candy from the my main office. My principals and secretaries were all there and we all hugged and cried and took a selfie like candy said and they gave me a crapload of sucking candy.

Lisa got me through last summer.

We are all still in shock. All of my dorm friends are a little bit lost today.

The world is a little bit less bright.

It was a day.

I also kept checking on my friend from the morning. She is in shock too.

This is where we do the work.

Our lives are like a long horizontal line. There’s the saying of the “dash”. On your gravestone they have the date you were born and the date you die. But the dash in the middle of the two dates is where all the stories of the good stuff is.

I’ve been telling people that we are time travelers. Our mind has the magic.

We can travel back in time to our past memories and feel anxious or regret.

We can flash forward to what we think might happen before it does, and feel worry.

We flow back and forth along this horizontal line all the time.

The trick is to stay vertical.

Be where you are, who you are with, at that moment.

Be still.

I got the text about Lisa at the moment Madison was about to do her dance. I made myself be still and stay mentally there, taking video of Maddie while she did her dance. I was able to stay as present as I could until rob came home.

Then I went on the back deck with him and got my cry out.

Alycia, Leila, Lisa.

I’m so tired of all of my friends dying.

Is this what people in old age homes deal with? Because man…I feel empathy with the ninety year old people. Watching friends die all around you knowing your time could be soon as well.

Stage four needs more.

This is why I agreed to be filmed this fall for this movie. This isn’t easy, sharing my life and treatment and emotions. It’s raw and hurts and makes you vulnerable. People can be loving and send love, and others leave and hurt you to the core.

But it also makes you brave, and knowing you can help at least one person… like Lisa helped me, and it makes it bearable. Just last night robs cousin’s wife was sending me her chemo plan and on the same day my friend Lisa died…

I gave a family member the same tips I was given one year ago.

Today I’m headed into NYC to see “Dear Evan Hanson” with Morgan’s Girl Scout troop. It’s going to be a long day of train rides, walking, watching the show, and dinner at Ellen’s Stardust Diner. But I’ll be surrounded by other moms, watching our girls who have grown up together make a memory day.

The type of day that the time traveling mind can go back to when hard days come.

I’ll put extra cream under my socks, drink water, and pack my chemo and herbs and pills and water.

Life is for living.

Stay vertical today, friends.

And may Alycia and Leila meet Lisa, and the three of them be near all who love and miss them.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

I love you, Lisa Sheridan Crane.

Always and always.

“See that’s all I want to do Billy-Boy. I want to leap of this pier and fly high in the air with hang with the wind and drift through the clouds, and at night, with the Moon full and the sea wild, I meet my lover high on a cliff and we’d swoop down into the ocean and swim all the way touch the bottom up through the darkwater and break the surface. Then we’d fly to Jamaica for Piña Coladas… God, I wish I could do that.”~Stealing home

I’m up and envisioning the port working, tumor markers dropping to non existent levels, and all other organ counts being fantastic.

Quinn and his cousin are up too with some new fortnight episode. I took away video games and technology for a week, and Quinn was a happier and more calm kid. This morning is a special event, so he can make this memory. If only he got up this easy on school days.

The kids had a great day, super busy with friends while I just sat and supervised.

Did some more yoga last night and it was beautiful.

Read some things on Facebook and realized it looks like I and other teachers will be spending a lot of our own money to make sure all kids in our classes have Ticonderoga pencils and Elmer’s glue sticks. It happens every summer, and the posts begin about school supply lists.

Yes, after working and teaching for over twenty four years, we need that many pencils and glues and those brands are the best. Crayola crayons work way better than the rose art.

The animosity towards children and teachers is surprising, but not.

We are in a room together for a whole year. I don’t care where you come from, if you are in my room, you are my responsibility. If your parents don’t have the funds to send in basic supplies, there is no way I’m going to have you go without.

This country has an immigration issue. However, the children have absolutely no say in where their parents take them. I will never, ever, ever, make a child feel less than others because of anything in their life. I couldn’t imagine the journey these young kids have had to endure. I’ve heard stories of their lives before coming here, and my stomach dropped imagining the events that led them to come. I thanked God I was born here.

Taxes are high, yes.

Overcrowding is an issue, yes.

Scandals and drama are ongoing, yes.

Children with language needs are flooding in, yes.

Go out and vote.

Go to Board of Ed meetings.

Volunteer and get to know these children. They are just as amazing as yours.

Teachers and children spend all day together writing with pencils, making crafts with glue sticks, and coloring with crayons. The kids don’t care what language another kid speaks, as long as they are nice, they share their crayons and glue sticks in a heartbeat. We teach the kids that “sharing is caring”.

Teachers also ask for a yearlong supply because everything is on sale in July and August. And yes, pre-sharpened pencils are lifesavers. You think it’s a pain to sharpen thirty pencils in the summer? Try sharpening pencils all day long for twenty something kids. Even the pre-sharpened pencil eventually wears down and needs sharpening.

Parents can’t wait for school to start, I see posts about kids not listening at home, summer camps are expensive. Parents rejoice when school starts.

Teachers meanwhile are scouring dollar stores for deals, buying up supplies for those who don’t have any, going into classrooms to set up while on vacation so the kids come in and have all they need and an environment that’s safe.

I’m not looking for debate here. I’ve seen enough. I cant believe that on the morning of a stage four cancer hospital visit where my last visit had a tumor marker higher than one of my specialists has ever seen…I’m more upset about comments I’ve read about teachers and children.

And so I breathe.

I send more love to my good cells, and to the children who have endured more hardship in their few years than many have in their whole lives. Confidentiality is key, but I’ve heard stories that have stayed with me for years. Jesus said let the children come to me.

If he was here, he would turn twigs into presharpened Ticonderoga pencils.

I wish all of these families had countries that were safe and they could stay with their families and live in their homelands. Guess what? They all do too. People leave where they live because of safety and opportunity. I read an article yesterday where families who have lived in the east end are moving down south because they can’t afford it up here anymore. Imagine if North Carolina residents treated those moving there with the same side eyes? People go where they can get a better life. Of course, they wish they could stay where they were born. We all do. But of my child was in danger of being kidnapped or raped or killed, you bet I would leave with the clothes on my back. (And yes, that’s a true story.)

I get the frustration. I buy supplies for my own three kids, and then for kids in my classroom who come without. I’m also spending a ton of money of cancer treatments. If anyone has a right to say, “I’m done”, it would be me.

But what we give, we receive.

Today may my port work and my blood flow like a peaceful river out of the tube that sticks out from my chest. May my tumor markers drop drastically and hope rise.

And May those who have, open their hearts to the children.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

Sunday was the pain day.

Monday was the rising.

I got up and walked two miles while Maddie ran. She ended up finding out she had an early morning staff meeting, so she ran around our neighborhood, while I walked with Oprah and her friends in my ear.

Then I went to the Peaceful Scorpion. I showed danielle my feet which are showing improvement with Donnie Yance’s cream. For an hour she worked her magic with a massage and reflexology. She used hot stones and was extra careful of the blisters on my feet and the rash on my arms and chest. We both can usually feel all the “cricks” of blockages and tightness in my body, but yesterday was smooth. I left feeling relaxed and so much better.

I brought my kids to sailing then decided last minute to head to the Giving Room. It’s been about two weeks and that’s just too long. Paula and I headed out to eat lunch at the nearby North Fork Table Lunch Truck. I used to go there on “winery days” with my friends, and instead of the big hot dog, I had a tomato, mozzarella and pesto lunch. I also splurged and had some amazing fries. Life is for living, right?

We sat outside in this magical wooded area with picnic tables, and nature was alive. There were big monarch butterflies and baby monarch butterflies flying and dancing around. A red bird came and flew from table to table. Paula and I caught up, and it was lovely.

I picked up my kids from sailing, grabbed Maddie, then got dinner from Sarah which was amazing as usual. Then I set up for the evening.

When I went to yoga teacher training, I wasnt sure what I would do with it. I didnt see myself in a studio. I just knew I was supposed to do it.

In the last week, it’s been revealed to me what it’s purpose may be.

I’ve had three different mothers all ask if I could do yoga for their children. You see, adults aren’t the only ones with anxiety and trauma and big life things happening. I worked with one little boy last week and he was my first. Last night I worked with a mom and two daughters and we used my basement space. It’s not totally finished, but it’s amazing what some lights in jars and fake flowers will do. People think yoga is this super bendy, headstand and crazy poses practice. That’s not my yoga.

Mine is essential oils, giving yourself massages, closing your eyes and breathing deep and breathing in a new way to reset your panic buttons, and finding your balance. It’s super easy, gentle, and after an hour you find yourself under a blanket with your legs and feet being rubbed while you breathe for about five or ten minutes.

I received another text from another mom and I’ll be doing a session with her son as well. It’s good for me too, as it makes me practice while I show the children what to do.

Then I made homemade strawberry shortcake and the girls and my kids swam and relaxed in the hot tub. It was peaceful and healing.

Perhaps that’s why I went to yoga, or maybe not. The purpose will unfold and reveal itself fully to me in time.

Today one of my best friends is driving down to sit with me. It will be a healing day of laughter and just being.

First I had the pain.

Then I had the rising.

It’s hard to have faith that there will be a rising when in the midst of what I call “the dark night and day of the soul”. But so far, there has been good that always came after the pain.

The sun always shines after the rain.

I told Danielle about a scene in the Spider-Man movie that is hidden in the very very end of the movie after the very last credit scrolls by. A character looks like he is on the beach, the sounds of the waves and seagulls on the shore, sand all around. Then it turns out he is in a room that is a virtual reality room. I know there are virtual reality classes that are proving to help people with pain, as my friend Bob Jester is pioneering the way. I said wouldn’t it be great if hospitals and senior homes and rehabs had these rooms. A beach scene, a forest with a stream, a mountain range. Changing your view can change your emotional state.

Imagine the patients who have been isolated in their rooms for weeks with just a window. I keep thinking of my friends Eileen and her daughter Johanna who yesterday had her 102nd surgery. I see what we pay sports figures and movie stars and YouTube people. If only we could find a way to fund more research and ways to ease the anxiety along the way.

A girl can dream.

Today I’m tired but excited for my visit.

I’m also hoping the tomcats win because I’m just not ready for joe to leave yet. Tomorrow is his birthday and I’ve imagined him pitching and winning the final game on his birthday.

Today may he win, many laughs surround me, and more healing happen.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

Spider-Man saves the day yesterday. Let me explain…

Yesterday was bad.

Exhausted, dark, painful.

Laid on a couch all day and went between crying, trying to hydrate to replace all the water I was crying out, getting herbs down, putting lotion on my feet, my kids asking over and over what they could do, rob saying it will get better, and my mind saying it will only get worse.

Facebook can be a blessing and a curse at the same time. It keeps you connected so you don’t feel alone and can ask questions in support groups. It can make you feel depressed seeing everyone else taking their kids to the beach and enjoying summer. It can hurt you to the heart seeing people live their lives without a single thought about you.

It was a bad day.

As Alexander once said, “A no good, terrible, horrible, very bad day.”

My sister came by and her kids swam with my kids. It’s amazing the people who leave you, and beautiful the people who stay. I was asleep when she came, woke up and cried, and she got me water and rubbed my arm until I went back to sleep. It’s not easy seeing someone you love in pain, but she has stayed.

Not everyone does.

I’m so glad she stayed.

We salvaged it by deciding to treat the kids to spider man. I didnt even shower yesterday, and didn’t care. The movie theatre is dark.

Of course… there were people there I knew, but they were students and friends of Maddie, and she doesn’t care being seen out with her family. For two hours I stayed awake and escaped. Maddie is now more sure she wants to be a screen writer or in film, probably because she saw it got her mom off the couch and smile for a little bit.

My lips are also now sore, so I rubbed coconut ice cream on them when I got home. It made the pain a bit sweeter.

I emailed my oncologist, because I posted in two of my xeloda support groups and the girls all said that it’s a crazy drug. Every single day is different, and no….I’m not crazy. With all of the other chemo treatments I’ve been on, it would slowly build, and I would know which day to expect which side effects.

With this one?

It’s like Forrest Gumps chocolate, and you never know what you’re going to get.

They said that dose reductions help, which is always scary. Part of me is like, give me all the medicine to kill the cancer, and the other part of me is like a little cancer is fine. I’ll take cancer out of the liver but still in the bones if i can keep quality of life.

The things you never think you’ll bargain with God about. Then Oprah and her friends tell you to expect miracles and yadda yadda yadda, so you get confused. Do I give it all up to God? No wait… I was told the only way to get to God is to ask Jesus. But then others who have healed said you can control your life and your destiny, so if it is to be is it up to me?

Then you read about another stage four person who you followed has died, and she thought all the things and prayed all the prayers, so you just end up breathing again.

I said I was like Yoda yesterday, repeating “I am one with the force and the force is in me.” Sitting still, breathing slowly, saying, “The cream, please pass me.”

The good news today is Donnie Yance’s cream is working. I stayed off of my feet all day and the blisters have hardened up and started to get better. Some women said that it takes a while to get the dosage right, but then the chemo becomes easier. Maybe that’s why I’ve got all summer to get it right, so I can be fine for work.

I need to work.

Not only for the money and benefits…

But I love my job. It also keeps me busy from the dark thoughts when I’m surrounded by kids who believe in unicorns and magic.

Today I’m bringing Maddie to run early at a park. Then I have a treatment with Danielle. My kids have sailing, I’ll keep my feet up and rest. I’m doing yoga tonight for another young person I know who needs it.

I need it too.

I found an article on Facebook yesterday that showed how oncologists tend to give the highest dosage to see what a patient can handle, then lessen it, even though research shows lesser doses are just as effective. It’s like killing a mosquito with a blowtorch. I took it as a sign and emailed my doctor for a possible discussion on dose reduction. Even one less pill might make a difference.

Thursday is a big day and we will see.

I’m feeling emotionally stronger today.

I am taking steps to help feel better and protect my life, my soul, my mind, my heart.

I’m sharing a lot here, and it’s a vulnerable thing to do. To those who have stuck around and comment or even just hit the simple

Little like button, you don’t know how much you help me as I go along. I went through my lists and removed all those who stopped commenting or liking.

This life is precious and real and messy and beautiful, and only those who want to stand in the dark and in the light with me and let me know they are here get to stay. Feeling like you don’t matter while feeling like you’re dying is a hard thing.

Feeling like death is closer than you think and that the doctors you fired were right, even if only for a day, brings clarity.

Today I will love this who love me right back.

Today I will heal more.

Today will be a good day.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

I’ve been walking and listening to podcasts by Oprah Winfrey. She has these amazing and enlightened souls sharing all of the wisdom they’ve learned. It makes walking easier, and I end up better for it.

The past two days I’ve summarized what I’ve heard and learned from Marianne Williamson and Carolyn Myss. These women are doing soul work.

Here are my summaries…

“Today’s walk and healing talk?

The instrument to heal is the soul.

Think of someone you or something you cannot forgive.

Imagine they come up to you and say “I’m

Sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Please forgive me.”

The thing is…

That isn’t

Enough.

Why didn’t

That clean

Up

The table.

It’s that the “I never meant to

Hurt You” goes to your soul and

Your souls says,” What do you mean

You never meant

To hurt me? WHAT?”

Let’s redo the scene.

Imagine the person coming up to

You and saying,”I need

To speak

With you. I consciously

Knew

What I was doing. I knew it. I heard my

Conscious

Tell me

Not

To do it and it didn’t

Matter to me. I sinned

Against you.

And

I know

The actions

Of what I did changed the course of

Your life. I knew what I was doing. It was

Conscious. And how much it hurt you did not stop me.

This is not a boo boo.

It’s

Not an apology.

I knew what I was doing was wrong and I did it anyway.

I’m asking

For

Your forgiveness.”

THAT is what heals.

THAT is what gets the sword out of your soul.

And if the people who hurt you do not have the ability or compassion or courage or love to see the hurt and damage they’ve done to your soul…

Forgive them, as Jesus commanded.

Then go far far away and find the ones who love you.”

~Carolyn Myss

“The universe is like a house.

We are all the lamps.

The light doesn’t light up unless it’s plugged in.

If I identify only with me, I’m only the lamp.

If i identify with others, I’m the light shining from the energy because I’m plugged in.

The universe is intentional.

The acorn doesn’t say I’m going to become an oak tree. It is just there, ready to become used for the larger intention of life.

The universal imprint is in life Itself.

First the cell actualizes to be the best it can be. Then the cells work together, and then it becomes part of the higher functioning for the higher good of organs, and then the self body.

What happened to my cells?

Cancer.

Cancer cells are not interested in a actualization, collaboration and service.

It disconnects from the universe and is like a lamp that isn’t plugged in.

When we do things for ourselves, we become transactional instead of relational.

Thy will be done is the highest relational moment.

How can I help others?

Dear spirit, use me.

Dear God, use me.

The tool to accomplish this is relationship.

If I’m only thinking of me, then I want to receive only for me, and I’m not aligned.

I go into relationships to get what i want.

Which is really saying

“How do i get others to do what I need to get

What i want?”

As lamps, you’re on your table and I’m in mine. But enlightened, our light from the lamps reaches all the corners of the earth.

Think of Waves. I’m afraid of the ocean. Would I be afraid of others Waves, or would I realize I AM the ocean.

The universe assigns relationships.

We are all assigned all the time. We ask what our purpose is and where should we be and what should we do. Instead, we are right where we should be and with who we should be all the time. But that doesn’t mean we always like each other.

It means we have the best opportunity to

Grow from each other. Right when we feel things are Going well, the universe sends us things or people who we see as challenging or hard or hurtful.

Relationships are opportunities to heal the soul.

When a person shows you their wounds, their triggers, which are no different than a boo boo on a child. The ego mind resists God and is all about self, and sees the wounds as character defects. We say, “Man, you’re rude. You’re needy.” We resist the relationship.

But the enlightened person says, “You’re wounded. Would God reject the wounded. It doesn’t mean I need to be with you,

But to stand by not in judgement but in love. The purpose is for us to stand and learn and evolve beyond the cancer thought.”

That’s what is happening now in the world.

We can choose our encounters.

Wake up and ask, “What would you have me say? Do? And to whom?”

Either God is in everyone or God is in no one.

The highest thought is not I “am Unique.”

The highest thought is “I am like everyone else.”

Then?

We heal.

What happens with cancer is cells start protecting the cancer and tumor. That’s like us when we hang on to negative thoughts.

We may not be evolved enough to not have the bad thoughts of others come to us, but instead, not protect it by talking about it and sending texts. Don’t let self hatred pose as self love.

We all have a tendency to perceive without love.

We all have wounds. Betrayal, unkindness.

Plug in and pray for those who hurt you and train your muscles, so eventually our muscles are trained and we rest and take a stand for self love.

Now, that doesn’t mean we don’t fall off and get it wrong and do things we Wish we hadn’t done.

But we can learn and get better.

My love will free me.

I am a lamp through which this light is meant to shine. The lamp doesn’t choose where the light shines.

It just shines on everyone.

The people who have achieved the most in the world have achieved a fraction of what is potential in all of us.

There may be shadows.

But you?

You shines the light.

“This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine…”

-today’s walk with maryianne Williamson and Oprah.”

So what did I talk about with the interview?

The purpose of this video is to reach other practitioners.

Doctors.

Oncologists.

Donnie Yance is brilliant. He has spent the past twenty five years learning and studying and researching.

My Chinese herbalist is brilliant and has learned about herbs and which ones heal which cells.

What will happen to me when these men retire and are no longer available?

And how did these two brilliant men BOTH end up on my team?

Why can’t these two men be on EVERYONES team?

For the better good.

Thy will be done.

How are you using me, God, for the better good?

Donnie is starting an online course for practitioners to learn the Mederi Way. How healing can be gentle, can be supplements and herbs and exercise and diet and spiritual growth in conjunction with the medicine to work synergistically to heal the cancer, and the life and soul.

Make more Donnie’s, so there can be more Keri’s.

It’s not easy, this work.

It’s definitely not cheap, this program.

But is it worth it?

Is it worth being here to teach Maddie to drive?

Is it worth being here to see Morgan not care about her bald spot and ask me to box braid her hair?

Is it worth is to see Quinn sail by himself on a boat?

Is it worth it to hear stories from Donnie of people who may not be free from cancer but have been able to love and live and thrive?

Yes.

So, I told my story.

I cried.

I told a man how much I love Donnie and Erin and the Mederi Staff.

I told a man how my husband listens to every call and can remember the hope spark Donnie told us when I can’t sleep.

I told a man how i used to see my job as a parent as to protect them from all pain, but isn’t my job to actually raise humans who are empathetic and kind and resilient? And with Mederis help, although I dont wish cancer on any family, my children are stronger and kinder than most others I know.

Yes, we are more mindful with money because this is expensive. But maybe someday more doctors will offer this, and insurance will start to cover this program.

So that others will have hope.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

https://mederifoundation.org

Yesterday’s hashtag physically, mentally, and emotionally hurt to write.

But it needed to have shock value so the people making decisions could feel the urgency of allowing stage four patients to have a voice. Today?

I’ve come up with a new hashtag.

Let me explain…

The other day while “Walking with Oprah”, I was listening to a podcast on how the universe has your back.

I’ve become what I call a “Christian Spiritualist”, in that Jesus is my lord and savior, God is my father, but they have a whole universe of spirit working with them helping us all while we inhabit our shells. I’m still up in the air about what happens when we die. Do we stay in heaven forever, or does God say, “I have more work for you to do. Want to go back and try again? This time you get to be this person and live this story” . Sort of like a hermit crab. You move from shell to shell each time, a bigger shell, a bigger life, until the life you lead is a life that helped many. Then, when you die a final time, God is all like, “Well, there’s nothing else for you to do. Stay and rest, and wait for all of your loved ones to come back up. They’ll be here in a blink an eye.”

(I’ve been sent nasty scary messages from bible thumpers before… so stay in your line, thumpers. I’ve heard it all before, thank you very much.)

Anyhow, while listening to the podcast, it finally clicked on how to pray. “Thy will be done” is probably THE single hardest line to say, especially for a control freak. I’m like Veruca Salt, and instead of wanting an Oompa Loompa NOW, I want the cancer gone NOW. Here is where it clicked.

Being a kindergarten teacher, I’m surrounded by children all day who believe the impossible can happen. I push on my port in my chest and begin to float to my tippy toes, and tell them it’s my magic flying button that I use at Night. They believe in fairies and unicorns and Santa and mythical bunnies.

ANYTHING is possible in their world.

So during the podcast I heard the words that clicked.

Maybe MY prayers are in the way of God’s plan. Maybe this is the story He told me was my life to live because something big is going to come of the cancer that will help others. I’ve had a woman who is truly gifted tell me that spirit has shown her how my blood will help not only cure breast cancer, but many cancers, and I will help many, many people.

As someone who was told I would be dead within weeks or months when first diagnosed almost three years ago, and again last November…

I’ll take story number one please.

Why not?

I believe in miracles.

Life is a dark and hard place if you think this is all there is.

God whispers to me as well.

While walking with Oprah, He told me to text someone I love who also needed to hear a message of how sometimes he doesn’t let us open the window because he is opening a big door for us. I texted this person. I found out later that this person got the text right after the door had been opened in a big way.

See?

It doesn’t mean I cant ask for help, or be specific in my prayers though. I asked God to help us financially. I got a call the next day that we are getting a partial refund from a bill we paid. I asked God to use this cancer story to help others.

The next day, MetUp contacted me and asked to share my blog. This is a national organization that advocates for stage four breast cancer patients. Actually, they also have a London chapter. They shared my blog, and now women and men from all over are shown the story. The faith, the treatments. The supplements, the herbs, the swooshing, the little signs of miracles.

The amazing thing is that I can see some of the strangers who clicked and shared. They all said it’s like I wrote their words. Falling down the hole when the trapdoor opens, being alone on a ledge that is crumbling, hearing others yelling support or crying in the dark…. our stories are all so different, but we are all in holes.

It’s not easy sharing this pilgrimage. This journey. This fall down the hole. It’s personal. It’s like the nightmare of writing my diary in elementary school and everyone reading it, except I don’t care who knows who my crush is, because he loves me right back. I’ve gotten thicker skin, and those who don’t want to read or support this story have been weeded out or removed themselves. That hurt, but the skin got thicker, and maybe it prepared room for others who put lotion of the skin and send support daily.

My blog website exploded a bit yesterday. I’ve got thousands and thousands of people who have read the blog, from all over the world.

What does it mean?

Physically, nothing. I’m still me, mom to three, wife to Rob, teacher, friend… Keri.

But it also meant something.

It meant that for a day, there were people who my words helped. Helped them feel not so alone in their freefall. Maybe they will click around the blog and follow the freefall of mine from the beginning, and see all the moments of light and love that have slowed the fall.

It’s like the starfish analogy.

Thousands of starfish on the sand and I’m throwing them back one by one. I cant help everyone, but I made a difference to each one I touched.

Keep swimming, starfish.

I see you.

Keep going.

Today is the big Jamesport parade, and it starts at 6:30. It’s a great parade and carnival, and supports our volunteer fire department. Everyone should go sometime this week and just buy a bracelet or food and support the men and women who will be there for you. They are the brave starfish throwers.

We saw my niece for her birthday/graduation, as my kids were all scattered the last few weeks. It was also “cake day” at the Mattituck Yacht Club, and Quinn was besides himself. The board of the club will never know how much this scholarship for my kids means to us. They took my starfish and are teaching them to sail. They are a blessing.

Today, I’m changing and using a new hashtag.

Im saying that #deadby2020 will turn into #curedin2023. (The medium told me seven years from diagnosis, so that’s the hashtag).

May it be so.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

Ps…

Today I walked with my Maddie. She is brilliant. We started with Oprah and Caroline Myss, but then Maddie used a point she said and began what I call her own epic Maddie Ted Talk. I wish I recorded it. Here is a picture of where we walked to… a place where the sidewalk ends.

“There is a place where the sidewalk ends

And before the street begins,

And there the grass grows soft and white,

And there the sun burns crimson bright,

And there the moon-bird rests from his flight

To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black

And the dark street winds and bends,

Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow

We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,

And watch where the chalk-white arrows go

To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,

And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,

For the children, they mark, and the children, they know

The place where the sidewalk ends.”

~shell Silverstein

I bet that headline for your attention.

I dont even like writing it because words are powerful. But let me explain that hashtag…here is my Facebook post today.

And so it begins.

Hand foot syndrome.

I was hoping it was just blisters from walking three miles day lately, but after posting in the private support groups…

It’s HFS.

This are the letters that stand for hand foot syndrome in the groups.

I say it stands for holy f*cking sh*t.

There are blisters on the sides of my big toes and feet, my feet and hands are turning a red color and tingling, and they look swollen like they are sausages ready to pop out of their casing.

So what do I do?

I just got a special cream from Donnie Yance that I slathered all over my feet and hands. (And no, it doesn’t smell like lavender. )Some of the women suggested I put band aids over the blisters to help them stay safe.

I’m going to up my water intake, and maybe take more detox baths. The last thing you want to do in a 100 degree weather is take a bath, right? But I’ve got to get the toxic chemicals out.

Instead of “sweating to the oldies”, I’m “sweating to get old”.

I’m still going to walk, because my skin is the biggest organ. Sweating is detoxing, so I’ll throw on extra socks and sweat away as I walk and listen to podcasts. I’m finding I love it. Music is ok to listen to, but man… Oprah has some amazing podcasts that are about thirty minutes long. I get inspired and calm and find clarity from some awesome spiritual people who have done the work. You may be walking by yourself, but you’re not alone. Kris Carr has a good one that felt like she was telling my story. I also see people I know every day as I walk. They drive by and honk or wave. I feel like the “Keri is walking for her life”’parade and I wave back. I used to be self conscious. Now I’ll get up, throw on a hat, not even worry about making my eyebrows fleek, and hit the road. I love this body, fifty extra pounds and blisters and cancer and all. This body is still working for me, and has been the “home of my soul” for almost 37 years.

Thank you, body.

Keep going.

Keep going.

Keep f*cking going.

I love you.

You’re the best!

Now let’s see if we can clear out the cancer.

I have three days left of chemo for this cycle. I can still walk and will be more mindful to put my feet up whenever I can to reduce swelling. This is where I learn to start to plan my day out better.

When can I sit and when can I stand.

According to the ladies on the group, every cycle is different. I’ll see what happens the next three days. Then next week I see my oncologist and if we have to lower the dose or change the frequency from two weeks on and one week off to one week on and one week off, then we will. I am on a really high dose right now because of all the pesky cancer. Not many women are on 4,000 mg in my groups. Most are 2,000.

That always take my breath when I see how much lower their doses are.

When you are diagnosed with stage four cancer, it’s like a trap door has opened up and you freefall. The thing is, there is no bottom to land on until you hit the coffin. Some women fall a few months, others fall for years.

But we are all falling… all the time… down, down, down.

The choice is where do we look as we fall.

Looking down paralyzes you. All you see is darkness. Then you can’t breathe and wonder how long the scary fall will be, and as scary as is it is, you don’t want it to end.

So you look up.

You look for the light that is still there, sometimes bright and sometimes small.

You keep looking for the rope that will drop for you to hold onto or the ledge that you can rest upon for a little while until it gives way. You think about the ladder that is trying to be built that might someday help you climb up out of the hole and then you can close the trapdoor forever. You pray the ladder gets built quickly because the ledge is small and cracking and your hands and feet hurt and the rope burns are stinging.

That’s stage four.

MetUp is an advocacy group that ran a social media blitz yesterday. Deadline2020 is a group run by the NBCC (National Breast Care Coalition) that’s states they are dedicated to ending breast cancer by January 1, 2020. But… they dont have Metavivor or MetUp representing stage four patients on their board. Not only is stage four considered the pink elephant in the room, they won’t even let the elephant IN the room.

Pink is NOT enough.

The bulk of the funding goes to to telling women to eat right, exercise, and get mammograms. ONLY two to five percent of what is raised by all that Pink… that freaking pink… goes to research for metastatic breast cancer.

Stage four.

The only stage that kills.

So while everyone is all pink, pink, pink, save the tatas, squish those boobies…

They all ignore stage four because we are the scary women already falling down the hole from the trap door that suddenly opened up and swallowed us whole, dragging our families and friends over to the edge to do their best to give support, and we are the women the lesser stages never want to be.

So no one looks at us.

No one listens.

We just hear other women from their own trapdoor hole in their freefalls yelling tips and tricks on branches that hurt as your fall down your own hole and how to make it suck less.

But here’s the thing.

Research has started to extend lives. Where women used to get diagnosed then spend the little time left preparing to die, with short falls down the hole. women are now living longer and speaking up.

Raising our voices and getting loud.

Well behaved women rarely make history, right?

I liken it to the AIDS movement. It was when the AIDS patients started shouting and yelling that they were heard.

Breast cancer patients are usually women, and in the past, older women. Moms, grandmas… women who would rather go and choke to death in a restroom than make a scene in public and ask for help.

Now?

It’s men AND women. Men can get breast cancer too. Women are being diagnosed younger and younger.

It’s not just breast cancer either.

Lung cancer, prostate, bladder, brain…

We are all fighting for our lives.

But stage four is ignored.

So yesterday we were loud, and told deadline2020 that without adding metavivor or MetUp representatives to their board, they should switch their name to deadby2020. The women who initially came up with this idea?

They’re dead.

So we pick up the flag and carry on down the field, making noise and not making nice, while riding on our elephants and saying, “SEE US! HEAR US!! HELP US!”

Screw the pink.

Get color blind and begin to see all the colors.

*stepping off soapbox*

I had a lovely night despite the HFS and threw a party for my dad. (Sometimes the trap door has an elevator for people to come down and visit and remind you of life before floor dropped out from under you). We had a beautiful night and the kids all had fun. Birthdays are important.

Each one I get to have will be cherished by me.

May I have forty more.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Sometimes your plans are in the way of God’s plans. It’s time to surrender.

We have to become brave enough to wonder what will happen if we give up control and let God take over.

Resistance needs to go.

Realign and reconnect to the presence.

Receive the blessings.

Take your hands off the wheel through prayer.

The secret to prayer is to stop praying for what we think we need but instead what is for the highest good for all.

Start to focus on what’s thriving. We focus on the absence of what we don’t have but instead on the things and blessings on that are already thriving.

Obstacles are detours in the right direction. Rumi said, “The wound is the place where the light enters you.” Maybe the loss of a job leads you to do what you always dreamed. The divorce leads you to love yourself more. The diagnosis leads you to get closer to God.

Look for signs. Ask for them. Thank you universe and God for showing me a sign that I’m headed in the right direction. It’s your job to listen.

When you think you’ve surrendered, surrender more.

Those who are certain of the outcome can afford to wait without the anxiety.

So close your eyes, take a deep breath, and thank the universe for taking away what needed go away. Ask for what needs to

Be done and said and to whom.

Release.

Where would have me go?

What would you have me do?

What would you have me say and do?

We need a connection and spiritual foundation, especially in these challenging

Times.

Our true power lies in knowing that in the midst of uncertainty we are held.

And the universe has our back.

~from my three mile walk listening to gabby Bernstein on super soul podcast.