Visualisation and Metaphors

My courage is stronger than my fear.

While fear's hot breath lingered on the nape of my neck during those raw days following my lobular breast cancer diagnosis a year ago last week - 1st November, 2019 - this was a sentence I desperately wanted to believe was true. I said it to myself over and over. Stuck it on my mirror, replayed it on loop inside my mind. At first, I will admit to you, I didn't think it could be true, it was all too much to handle; but I wished so hard that it might just be true. so I whispered it to myself, when no one else was near to hear; I whispered it in my head, gently, while waiting for the shower to warm up. It started to become part of my thought package, my program. I started to believe it. Now I really feel it; just saying it to myself calms me, softens my shoulders and straightens my back.

Whenever fear appears, however it may slither in and slide a hand around the door, I stop and think…but my courage is stronger than you. Bigger than you. It leaves then, turns on its heels, a waft of smoke; nothing tangible anyway, it turns out. So early on, I made a promise. To only to say things to myself that would serve me, would help me, would heal me. It's interesting how many thoughts need stopping in their tracks. There's the door. Only wonderful ideas welcome here!

Picture the scene with me, it’s now late March 2020, Spring has turned into a scene of a dystopic film and Covid19 has just put the breaks on my mastectomy. I have just finished six rounds of gruelling chemotherapy and the attention now has turned to the 9 cm tumour we found on my adrenal gland back in December (above your kidneys before you reach for google) that was, at the time, judged to be benign. Not any more, apparently. Those were some lonely day. Covid induced isolation and terrible news.

“There’s no way this can be benign. But stay positive. Thinking positively will impact the outcome of your surgery and effect how you recover afterwards. So think positively,” my surgeon said.

Wow, I thought. How do I do that then? Because right now I’m really sacred. Terrified actually.

This nine cm adrenal gland tumour was touching my liver, bowel and kidney. There was a very high risk that if it didn’t ease itself smoothly, like a light airy pancake eases itself out of a non-stick frying pan, then I might wake up without a kidney and have parts of my bowel and liver cut into. I remember this initial appointment, I needed something to hold onto; I started to create a very clear image of what I wanted to happen, I could almost see this pancake-like-looking-tumour just being nudged ever-so-slightly and popping out without holding onto or harming any other organs. The image came to me. I didn't create it.

So I grew that image. Nurtured it. Toyed with it like a lock of hair in nervous finger tips. Watered it like a cherished plant. To make it real and come alive. I wanted to talk about the imagery, so I asked my friends and family to create visualisations with me to create a powerful and vivid image of the surgery. I asked them to talk to me about their choice of imagery – most people chose fruit skins peeling off. I seemed to be the only one thinking about pancakes! It’s all I thought about– my image became more vivid and real the more I pictured it. It became an affirmation or a mantra – peeling away with no harm to any other organs.

It worked. Like a plum skin or the skin of a lychee, the tumour was removed. With no harm to other organs. All my affirmations came true. A five-hour operation done in two hours!

“Are you ready to jump up and down?” My surgeon asked me over the phone a week later.

“Your adrenal gland tumour was very, very rare. But completely BENIGN.”

My close friends still talk to me in imagery and tell me what they see and imagine for me – blue skies, all clear…Reflecting on the way I used imagery, involving co-creators to build and bring the images to life is really quite profound. It has allowed me to feel close to the people I love because they can share my healing and ideas – be a part of it.