COLOR OF THE SOUL

His arm and the colors of his tattooed sleeve. The hues of green, the colors of me.

_____________________________

I am here for the needles prodding, for the therapy that keeps me breathing. But there is art in this scene, this living canvas is more than 50grams of Vitamin C.

Whether it’s fact, or something I tell myself to make it through, there is beauty in the hard moment. And though I have said it before, the truth of it bears repeating. This time it’s more obvious and I marvel at the intention embedded there. That is, to notice. If I close my eyes to bear what’s coming, the magnified moment fades.

To receive the gifts not so buried, we must be grounded and ready. Present in the antiseptic. Even when what is in front of us feels sterile and removed,
it’s up to me to bring the humanity.
And so, I notice—
Teal gloves grabbing where ink crawls up his arm, then blending with all the hues of me.

We are not merely practitioner and patient but brushstrokes in some grand and glorious painting.
The Master Painter is in this,
He predetermines what will be,
I picture him delighted that the details delight me.

“The thing is not the thing” runs through my head as the butterfly needle pokes through skin. I have come here for the life-giving liquid, yet what is received is the full-force affirmation that there is so much more at play.

He knows, this Creator of a woman who notices the seemingly unrelated elements pressed together in this small space. The sharpness of needle gives way to soft lines blending, two humans gathered with singular intention of taking on this elusive disease.

I FEEL HIM HERE. IN THE SOFTNESS OF THE COTTON SWAB. IN THE SOFTER STILL COMFORT OF ANOTHER’S VOICE. IN THE BLENDING OF GREENS.

When is the last time you noticed the beauty in the hard thing?
Did you not see the tiniest details, there as a quiet whisper, “I am with you. I am near.”

If I embody the message I’ve been given—
In my comings and goings,
In the busyness of the day,
In the angst over what I can’t control,
In the overwhelm of what has been and what is coming…
In and through all things I am fueled by this imperative:

Let’s infuse the loveliest pieces of ourselves into the unlovely places. Let’s paint the world with the color of soul.ng th

NOTES:

How has it been nearly three years? In the early days of my Stage IV Uterine Cancer diagnosis I would lay in bed unable to fall asleep.
While I would never describe myself as a “fearful person,” the thoughts that ran through my head were filled with the kind of “what if” scenarios that make it difficult to ever truly rest. 

In those moments, my years of believing in the body’s ability to heal itself came in very handy. So did my deep friendship with a woman who just happens to be a fellowship-trained Integrative Doctor with a passion for helping cancer patients thrive. 

Almost immediately, my integrative team and I began seeking the kinds of treatments that could boost the body’s immunity to fight the cancer on its own.
One of these therapies was high dose vitamin C. Over the last nearly 36 months I have not missed a week. In fact, though I am not receiving chemotherapy, I have a port installed in my chest to ensure easy and direct access for administration of fluids since finding my veins requires invasive exploration.

Three years ago, I was ahead of my time with my use of so many of the modalities that are a part of my daily life [for the rest of my life].
Today, my IV center [IVNV CDA] is filled with cancer patients whose mainstream/Western Medicine medical doctors are now prescribing IV treatment alongside chemotherapy regimes. It is thrilling to witness the progress we are making in the advancement of integrative therapies that are not only life saving in and of themselves, but also effective companions to curb the side effects of chemotherapy and insure these drugs have the best chance possible of going after disease.

While these therapies are proven to be [extremely] effective, they are still not covered by insurance. That’s why so many of my tribe have been compelled to share their stories on sites like gofundme.

If you have a loved one who is going through something similar, I suggest two things—
1. Support them by coming alongside their belief. CONFIDENCE in what we do to save our lives is everything. What we tell our bodies, our bodies believe. 
2. When possible, give financially. You are not only giving to one person, you are supporting the greater cause of expanding the options available for fighting this disease.

I love sharing my story because I believe my transparency has potential to help others going through their own hard moment. 
We are never really alone. 

THIS BEAUTIFUL  HUMAN WITH ME IN THE PHOTO IS ERIC FOTI, CO-OWNER [ALONG WITH MATTHEW DILL] OF IVNV-CDA. ERIC HAS NOT ONLY BEEN A LOYAL FRIEND AND FIERCE ADVOCATE OVER THE PAST THREE YEARS BUT ALSO ENLISTED ME TO DESIGN THE IVNV STUDIO IN COEUR D’ALENE DURING SOME OF THE MOST DIFFICULT MONTHS OF THE EARLY STAGES OF MY JOURNEY.
HTTP://IVNV-CDA.COM/