My journey with chronic pain started when I sat back and decided to wait. I was about to turn 45 and received a Ministry of Health letter about booking a mammogram.

It was early December, I could not get through, let so I left a message. And waited.  In January I chased them.  Eventually the Ministry of Health got back to me – in February.

They scheduled my mammogram for September. Ten long months away.

When September came I was told that the machine was broken so my scan was delayed until 28 October.

While I waited, a cancerous tumour grew to 7 centimeters, destroying all breast tissue.  It turned into grade 3 malignancy and invaded 3 of 19 axilary limph nodes.

That is the day I went from having a mammogram to enduring deep needle biopsies with no one to hold my hand. Then I went in “the washing machine”, the knickname the fortnight before my surgery.

I was barely out of hospital when I started 6 months of chemotherapy.

Chemo was brutal but i managed to have some good laughs and lots of love.  Radiation was worse. After 25 sessions, the swelling in my throat was such that I could not breath or swallow.  I had burn blisters from my neck all through my axilary and rib cage.

It took several months before I was able to stretch my arm.  And over the years that followed the amputation and lymph node ressection, I  went through a couple of reconstructive surgeries.  To this day, scar tissue and nerve damage cause stabbing pain down my side under the ribs. It is phantom pain. And I get spasms, making it hard to breath.

For me, the best medicine is movement with breath awareness, exaling the pain and inhaling healing light.

To be present in the exalation, emiting a sound gives pain voice and expression.  Singing has become the most effective therapy for my pain. As is curling up in a ball and asking for help, when I need to!

Pain takes energy. It is like doing “double shift”: being in two places, negotiating what is happening inside with normal everyday life, family or work.

This month is the five year anniversary of my treatment.  I am coming out this end made better by the pain I am becoming acquainted with.  It fluctuates like the tides. And it is also unpredictable.  But as I learn about this close friend, I  become proactive in my relationship with health and medicine, also learn about myself.  I melt into softer roles, and create more meaningful connections.  I slow down and make space for rest, early nights and sunrise meditations.

I am certain that to some people I may have seemed amiss at times.  Or if I made little sense or could not be fully present, it may have been that I was in pain.  I am sorry I was not able to express that then and I am finding ways to honour my friend when it visits.

Today I can say that I am grateful for chronic pain.  And I am strong enough to talk about it and explore alternative medicine treatment approaches.  It is good to be home again!