Today’s Sunday Planning Session And Some True Confessions

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“Live in the moment but just be mindful that you are working towards something.”
~ Eric Zaccone


I know, I know. It’s Sunday. And on Sundays I don’t blog, and I don’t go on the internet and I don’t do any work.

Except that on this particular Sunday I am!

I’m taking some time over a cup of tea to revisit my yearly goals, my One Big Thing and my support focus areas using my Year of ME Planner. I’m thinking about the months ahead, and the plans I had for August, and how I might need to amend them or juggle them around. Plans are what hold me together in rough seas, and right now my sea is rougher than usual.

As you might know, I am scheduled for major surgery on September 5. Seeing I’ve shared such embarrassing issues as vomiting in public places and incontinence here on my blog, I figured I might as well continue in that same spirit of disclosure! I have an old problem that was put on the back-burner a few years ago because my heart was failing and I wasn’t up to surgery at that time. Other health  issues became a bigger priority. Most people with chronic lyme disease have similar stories – they have multiple serious health issues over time, rather than just one thing…

Just a few weeks ago (well after my holiday had ended, thank goodness) I was revisited by reminders of this old problem. I suffer from fibroids, benign tumors in and around my uterus which have caused pain and heavy menstrual bleeding for most of my adult life. Three years ago my doctors chose a method of halting those symptoms while we dealt with my heart and my other ongoing issues that were of more pressing priority.

The treatment for my fibroids worked, and the problem slipped to the back of my mind. My doctors and I were hoping that menopause might slow the growths or shrink them and that we could avoid surgery. For the past few years I’ve been symptom-free.

(And before I receive an avalanche of helpful advice about natural cures for fibroids… I have been doing them all for thirty years, and none of them have worked. I’ve also had surgery three times previously. Believe me, I have never wanted to get to this point, and have done everything in my power to reverse this. All those other methods have failed. All of them.)

From my latest scans it is apparent that I now have nearly thirty of these fibroids, including one that is 15cm x 4 cm, and a 20cm x 30cm new growth that is enlarging rapidly, and which has become involved with some of my other organs and internal structures.It will be long and complicated surgery to remove and repair all of these things. The growths in my belly are causing me a lot of pain and discomfort and a small amount of worry.

There. Now you know what’s going on with me.

Anyway, life goes on. It’s Sunday, and Sunday is my planning day. So I am planning. I hope you are, too!

I pulled this week’s oracle card for some guidance, and I thought I’d share it with you so you could see my process. No, I don’t use the little book’s meaning for the card. I let the card speak to my intuition instead.

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I love this card. It’s optimistic. It’s hopeful and positive. Here’s the fox, sitting on the egg of all her hopes and dreams and potential. It makes me feel like she is guarding those dreams carefully. That resonates for me. I was drawn to her soft, vulnerable underbelly and her complete dedication to her task. She gives me a sense of strength and direction.

She is also gazing intently through her telescope. A telescope brings certain things into clear focus. What things do I need to focus on right now? Into the future?

The telescope was the key image for me this week. Narrowing my focus. Bringing things into clear perspective. Keeping my eye on the destination and not being distracted by all the bombs going off around me.

Miss Fox is being watched by the moon, and by her unseen loved ones. She feels protected and very loved.

The word OBSERVER reminds me not to get caught up in my head or my emotions. Detachment is a useful skill.

The numbers 4 and 9 are also significant for me this week, although often I pay them no attention at all. 4 speaks to consistent work and steady effort. It’s a number of organisation and systems and attending to plans. 9 is for the completion of cycles. I am taking that as my personal good omen! Both of these numbers give me direction and a lift in my spirits.

I may not be able to barrel forward at my usual rate of knots this week, or in the coming months. That doesn’t matter. I can let slide whatever isn’t important. I can ask for help. I can delegate. I can do what I CAN do, and I will keep my eye on the prize.

Okay, time for me to finish my planning session. How about you? What’s ahead for you in this new week? Where would you benefit from putting your focus between now and the end of this year?

Thank you too, for all of your messages of love and support. It has really buoyed me up.

See you tomorrow.

Big love and hugs, Nicole xx

Song of the Sisterhood

Image from

Image from

“A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life.”
~ Isadora James



These past few days have been hard. It’s been one thing after another. Then there’s the pain. It’s unrelenting. Drugs have helped take the edge off but it’s ground me down. The pain, and the worry.

Sleep is eluding me. I’m so tired but I’m wired too. I can’t get comfortable. My body throbs and hums and stabs and aches. Late at night my head gets crowded with the wrong kinds of thoughts.

I’m trying to keep a positive outlook. After thirty years of poor health I’ve become an expert at downplaying everything. At diverting attention away from myself. At convincing others that it’s all good. Especially when it’s not.

If Ben asks me, I tell him I’m fine. Just a bit sore and tired. We smile at each other and hug a lot. Sometimes we catch each other’s eye and shake our heads because… fuck… we can’t seem to take a trick. So much stuff seems to have been going wrong all at once, after it had all been going so right. But that’s life sometimes, hey?

I’m okay, I tell my mum. I tell Dad the same.

I tell my sister I am a little worried, but okay.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

And I am. Honestly.


Yesterday I met a group of dear friends for a birthday lunch. We celebrated, and ate gorgeous food, and laughed and talked about all manner of interesting things.

I’d thought I’d gotten away with it. Not talking about myself.

But after our meal had been cleared away and all the presents opened, the birthday girl leaned across the table and fixed her steady eyes on me.

“So, Nic,” she said. “What’s going on with you? With your health? We’re your friends. We need to know.”

I couldn’t keep the stupid tears from overflowing my eyes. And I told them. I told them everything. Not just the facts, but the fears too.

My dear friends listened as I gave up all my pain and terror. They hugged me and patted my arms and held my hands and passed me tissues.

Then we traded stories. We held space for each other and the messiness and uncertainties of life. We worried for each other, and we cared.


Afterwards I felt so much better. So much lighter.

I hadn’t realised what a burden it was to be lugging all of that around on my own.


It’s true, you know. I’m okay and I’ll be okay. I really mean it.

Besides, something beautiful happened yesterday.

I was lifted up by angels.


Feeling blessed to have such wonderful friends in my life. <3 xoxo


Image by SeveIV at

Image ‘Train Tracks’ by SeveIV at

“You should have seen this coming,’ they said. I did see it coming. I saw it coming the way you see a train coming when you’re tied to the tracks.”
~ Margaret Andrews


I’ve been awake since I don’t know when.

No, that’s not true.


I lay awake in the dark for a long while, willing myself to turn over and go back to sleep. But I was wide awake.


I thought about the doctor I will see today. I’ve seen him several times over the past twenty or so years. I thought about him sleeping, and hoped that he was sleeping well and deeply, untroubled by anything.

I wondered if he realised how many of his patients lay awake at night, apprehensive and counting the hours until their appointment. Then I hoped he never thought about it at all. How difficult it would be to labour under such thoughts.

My mind wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t steer it off topic for more than a few minutes. Slowly, dawn approached. My appointment is still hours away. No more sleep for me.

I got up early. I meditated. I sat down to write this blog.

Still, my thoughts are a jumble of worries.


Pointless, really.

I will see my doctor. I will get my test results. We will chart a path. I will walk the path.

The part of me that is the wise and coping part tells me I am okay, and that I’ll be okay.

The worried part of me snaps back, “Shut up!”

Which makes me laugh. Eventually.

I am okay, and I will be okay.

Worry never solved anything, nor made time pass more easily.

I’ll have a cup of tea instead. I’ll tidy something. I’ll wait for Ben and Cafe Dog to wake up so that we can have a lovely distracting outing.

And even so, I’ll keep on quietly worrying.



What May Come

“Fate is never fair. You are caught in a current much stronger than you are; struggle against it and you’ll drown not just yourself but those who try to save you. Swim with it, and you’ll survive.” 
~ Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes



This morning I have gained perspective.

It’s not much, but it’s something.

Today my head’s above water, I can breathe, and I am no longer in a state of panic.


Have you ever had a time in your life where it’s just one thing after another?

Right now, my friend, I’m there.

I’m caught up in the current and there’s no chance of getting my feet on solid ground any time soon.

It’s all due to Lyme Disease.

Sunday I herxed so badly from my treatment that I ended up having seizures.  On top of all the other pain. On top of all the other agonies.  My cranial nerve became inflamed and I lost the ability to think and speak clearly. My eye puffed up like a toad. I stuttered and stammered and finally ached my way into an exhausted sleep.

Yesterday it was off to the doctors for more tests, more scans, and eventually, more bad news. Some of it completely unexpected.  You know how it is when you’re so busy fighting the fire in front of you that you completely miss the raging inferno just over your shoulder.  Yesterday I felt like I just couldn’t take a trick. I was completely overwhelmed. I wondered how I was going to do this.  I had no idea how I could cope.

The truth is, the bacteria that have been colonising my body for nearly thirty years have wreaked havoc.  Today I can hold the pictures in my hands of the battlefield that is my body.

These bacteria have been waging war in me for a long time, and its shows. They’ve done damage to my endocrine system, my neurological function, my heart.  They’ve damaged my kidneys, my gallbladder, my liver. They are in my bones, my cells, my organs, my fatty tissues, my brain.

As a result I need major surgery.  That wasn’t on my current list of things I have to cope with.

We fled the city and came home to our little farm last night so I could get some breathing space.  I sat on the veranda sipping tea in the cool night air and talking to the owls. And finally I went to bed, and had my first full night’s sleep in ages.

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Now morning is here again.

I’m back to feeling like I can do this after the momentary horror of the past few days.  In fact, today I’m even going to do some work – which I am very much looking forward to!

Okay, maybe I’m limping and lurching and none too graceful, but hey – I’m still in the game.

Doctors are finally taking me seriously.  They have to.  My body’s a mess and the evidence is right in front of them, in my bloods and my scans.

Please don’t be telling me that all I need right now is to adjust my attitude, pray, eat greens or some magical network marketing product, speak to the right Angel or clear my old emotions.

I’ve been doing that for years.  And you know what – it has had a very positive affect.  I’m still alive and functioning, when I should be long dead.  My pain levels are tolerable when I should have jumped off a bridge by now.

People, there is a war going on inside me.  And instead of peaceful resistance, or allowing this hostile occupation, I am now aggressively defending my boundaries. The drugs and herbs I’m taking are making me feel awful, at times worse than dying, but I have proof that they are working. Right now, I’m using everything at my disposal.  It’s down to the wire for me, and I’m not ready to give up just yet.

I need surgery.  Sooner rather than later.

Well, sometimes that’s what has to happen.

Surgeons and doctors have an important place in the world, and I’m a bit over people with their New Age fundamentalist philosophies telling me that I can’t trust the medical profession and all I need to do is work on myself or see some energy healer.

Honestly. I’ve tried all that anyway, and I think it rocks (hello, I’m a practicing psychic for goodness sakes) but…  that is such a limited and medieval view of the world.

I will take each day as it comes.  I will use the many conventional and alternative choices available to me.

I will accept that for now my feet won’t be touching solid ground for a while, and that I must go with the flow. (There – how much more New Age can you get? 🙂  )

If I can’t swim, I can float. I can give in to the current and see where it will take me.

If I relax, I can even muster a little optimism and a curiosity for what may come.

I’m doing my best to stay open, to live from my heart and find something beautiful in every single day.  And you know what?  If I don’t get caught up in my head, if I don’t lose myself to fear, it’s not so hard to do…

There are rich blessings in this journey.  And so much to be grateful for.  It’s all a matter of perspective.