In the fall of 08 I was called upon to do a massage on a women suffering from cancer, as a favor to a my client wanting to do something nice for her friend. I accepted the honor not knowing the extent or progression of her cancer. I was soon to find out.
I mentally and physically prepared myself before the appointment. It was the only massage I booked for that day.
Upon arriving I took a long deep clearing breath on the harvest decorated porch. Rang the bell and waited....
My client Nancy answered the door and thanked me for coming. The house was quite and smelled of warm memories. Beautiful green healthy plants adorned the upstairs front window in the living room. I set up my table there. Nancy told me her friend was very weak and frail and has some lesions on her back she is embarrassed of. Nancy covered the lesions with a washcloth and surgical tape. I said I understood and asked Nancy if she would she help me help her on the table.
Noreen walks into the room and introduces herself. She apologies several times for her slow and belabored movements. I let her know right off the bat that I was there for her and I will make this experience a comfortable and enjoyable one. Nancy assures her that I was the best and have worked with cancer patients before. With Noreen on the table Nancy makes her exit.
I asked Noreen what it was I could do for her. She told me that she likes her hands and feet massaged. I asked her if she has ever had a professional massage before. She said no but was very excited to have her first and what would be only massage. Noreen's hearing was not good. I imagine it was the pain medication. This was not going to be easy she was so sick and obviously in terrible pain. I again asked Noreen what I could do for her and more specifically what she would like my intention to be for her for this massage. "Do you want me to help you let go or do you want to remain present?" "Oh no she says I am very much present and want to stay that way" I honored her request.
Noreen breathed in deep gasps the air rattled in her chest and a gurgling sound vibrated her throat. At times there was an odor I could not put my finger on. I dabbed lavender oil under my nose. I continued the massage her skin was so paper thin.
Thoughts started to flood my head like...The will to live is so strong even in the presence of death! Why would you want to stay present here being so sick. I pushed these thoughts away during the massage and have comtemplated them often since.
I helped Noreen turn over to massage her back the washcloth covering the broken skin on her shoulders had shifted. I did my best to cover them back up but the tape that once held the washcloth in place would not adhere. Then I knew the smell of rotting flesh. I could have cried but I stayed grounded. The smell in the room was totally unavoidable now. At one point I thought she was asleep or as close to rest as she could be; then her heart rate increased and I knew she was having a hard time breathing. The words were on my tongue to suggest we should end now when Noreen beat me to it. I helped her up to a sitting position and got her some water. She moved to the couch and Nancy came back into the room.
Noreen thought the massage was wonderful and was genuinely appreciative. I thought Noreen was a graceful person, wise and older then her years. She said she would like another massage one day. Noreen did not want to die. She offered to make tea and asked if I cared for a cup. I could not stay I had to get home. All I wanted to do was go home and see my family and take a good look at what I have. I appreciated the offer but I was spent. I ran out of there although I did not want to seem that way.
Back in my car I took a deep breath and thanked God for the strength and said a pray for Noreen.
Noreen had her massage on a Thursday, she passed away on Saturday the same week.
I was honored to give Noreen a massage.
I hope to meet again someday too Noreen!
Showing posts with label Breast Cancer Awareness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breast Cancer Awareness. Show all posts
Sunday, November 16, 2008
My first Mammography!
It’s cold and gray outside, typical February morning. My appointment is not till 2:30. The waiting is making me anxious! In the shower I frantically start doing a self-breast exam and begin to worry if everything is normal; was that lump there last month? I’m dressed; it’s 12:30 p.m. I run a few errands around town and find myself forgetting simple things like; my cell phone and the coffee on the counter at WaWa. I desperately need some more caffeine. I am starting to sweat and I am not wearing any deodorant. I play around on the computer till 2:05. Time to leave, the wind blows the car door against my shoulder; ouch! I arrive at the Brick Imaging Center at 2:20.
The receptionists’ were extremely polite. Everyone at the center appeared warm with sweet dispositions. I filled out paperwork with a pen in the shape of a rose. More sweetness! Next, I am greeted by my technician; the person who in a few short minutes will be lifting, moving and pressing my breasts onto a plate. I am lead through two curtains to a pseudo dressing room where I undress and re-dress in a poncho split up the front and split slightly higher on the sides. I am glad I wore my “big” jeans for the occasion! Now for the wait….there is two other women in the room with me dressed in pastel capes with pocketbook swung over their arms. After only five minutes I complain out loud to my robed comrades, “Boy, how long do we have to wait in hear”? I realized at that moment it had only been a few minutes. I guess I couldn't’t stand the silence. I began to get into a good Ladies Home Journal article on cheating spouses when I hear, “Mrs. Turnbach, come with me”. (Hold on one minute, it dawned on me this is the second time since I’ve arrived I have been called Mrs. Turnbach, Do they HAVE to keep reminding me of how old I am and that I am here for a mammography!)
The Test:
The technician could not have been nicer. We talked about hair. She liked my hair cut. I said, “I did not really do anything with it today” (you know, no reason because I was just being checked for CANCER!) Her hair was thin, shoulder length with bad bangs, she said she always had the bangs and was considering growing them out. She wanted the reverse bob like me but did not think it would look good. (As much as I enjoyed talking to her, I’m thinking is it over yet? Are the pictures being taken as we speak? Is there someone else coming into the room to man handle my breasts like raw meatballs in a busy Italian restaurant?) My eyes begin to dart around and I said to the sweet tech, “O.K.”. She must have known I was then ready. The instruction begins, “Swing the right side of the cape over your shoulder please” Miss nice girl with bad hair said. Boob is exposed! Who cares, I have no problem topless. (For some this may be embarrassing and nervousness may set in) I just did not know, since it was my first time, what to do in this position? Do I stand straight, move my breast to the right, and turn sideways? Then the lady gently lays her soft hands on my breast and kneads the tissue (three times; top bottom and side) forward onto the squishy breast plate. The test was a breeze. Two pictures each breast. The first picture is taken head on; first right breast, then left. The pad your breast laid on was soft and warm. Watch out though for your ribcage that leans up against the metal of the machine, that’s chilly, Burr! The clear plastic plate came down on my breast, squishing it like a sandwich. I glanced down and notice numbers 1, 5, 10, 15 on the “breast plate” Mine filled it all the way to the 15! Not bad I thought (like I even knew what these numbers meant). Hurt? No! Weird? Yes! Especially if you look down at your breast tissue and see it in a way that you HAVE NEVER SEEN A BREAST LOOK BEFORE. Not even Picasso himself could masterfully arrange this form.
Back in the waiting room…
I open a Christmas issue of Redbook and WA-LA! A before and after picture of a lady, with thin Blond hair, with the reverse boob (oops, I meant bob, I will leave that slip) I rip out the picture for what’s her name because of the similarity. I am still in my super hero cape! Wait wait wait…, 20 more minutes. “Mrs. Turnbach”, (I am used to being called by my sur name at this point, “Yess!” “Come with me”. We step into a room and I am barely through the doorway before the nurse says; “Everything is fine, you have healthy breast tissue, we will see you back… (Is she kidding? fine? I went through all of this and I am fine, this is surreal, I was prepared for the worst, hair loss, reconstruction if necessary, buying everything with pink on it, when is the walk?) In 5 years at age 40, 35 is just a base line. Then after the age of 40 it is once a year, O.K.” I respond with a big, “O.K., O.K.”! Yippee, I trot back to the dressing room/waiting room. There was some baby powder I took advantage of since you have to have the test with no deodorant on or perfumes. Dressed, my black Coach bag dusted with powder, I leave the office but not before finding Miss Nice Person to give her the picture of the Redbook Model. She seemed to genuinely appreciate the gesture and said she may just get the nerve to try the new style one day. Then she asked me if I cut hair? “No”, I said.
Off I go…back in my truck I felt dizzy…where am I going? Hey, who cares, I do not have cancer, Thank God! THANK GOD!
Breast Cancer awareness has significantly increased over the past several years. In 2007, 32 million dollars was raised for The Breast Cancer Research Foundation. Perhaps all this awareness has frightened some women believing; I could have breast cancer. This may or may not be the case. The best detection of this potentially fatal and life changing illness is the Mammogram! So GO! GO every year, DO NOT wait, there is nothing to be worried about; See!
Bridget Turnbach is the owner of The Pampered Spirit Mobile Massage & Spa Co. Bringing the spa experience to you in the comfort and convenience of your home, office or hotel suite.
http://thepamperedspiritnj.com
The receptionists’ were extremely polite. Everyone at the center appeared warm with sweet dispositions. I filled out paperwork with a pen in the shape of a rose. More sweetness! Next, I am greeted by my technician; the person who in a few short minutes will be lifting, moving and pressing my breasts onto a plate. I am lead through two curtains to a pseudo dressing room where I undress and re-dress in a poncho split up the front and split slightly higher on the sides. I am glad I wore my “big” jeans for the occasion! Now for the wait….there is two other women in the room with me dressed in pastel capes with pocketbook swung over their arms. After only five minutes I complain out loud to my robed comrades, “Boy, how long do we have to wait in hear”? I realized at that moment it had only been a few minutes. I guess I couldn't’t stand the silence. I began to get into a good Ladies Home Journal article on cheating spouses when I hear, “Mrs. Turnbach, come with me”. (Hold on one minute, it dawned on me this is the second time since I’ve arrived I have been called Mrs. Turnbach, Do they HAVE to keep reminding me of how old I am and that I am here for a mammography!)
The Test:
The technician could not have been nicer. We talked about hair. She liked my hair cut. I said, “I did not really do anything with it today” (you know, no reason because I was just being checked for CANCER!) Her hair was thin, shoulder length with bad bangs, she said she always had the bangs and was considering growing them out. She wanted the reverse bob like me but did not think it would look good. (As much as I enjoyed talking to her, I’m thinking is it over yet? Are the pictures being taken as we speak? Is there someone else coming into the room to man handle my breasts like raw meatballs in a busy Italian restaurant?) My eyes begin to dart around and I said to the sweet tech, “O.K.”. She must have known I was then ready. The instruction begins, “Swing the right side of the cape over your shoulder please” Miss nice girl with bad hair said. Boob is exposed! Who cares, I have no problem topless. (For some this may be embarrassing and nervousness may set in) I just did not know, since it was my first time, what to do in this position? Do I stand straight, move my breast to the right, and turn sideways? Then the lady gently lays her soft hands on my breast and kneads the tissue (three times; top bottom and side) forward onto the squishy breast plate. The test was a breeze. Two pictures each breast. The first picture is taken head on; first right breast, then left. The pad your breast laid on was soft and warm. Watch out though for your ribcage that leans up against the metal of the machine, that’s chilly, Burr! The clear plastic plate came down on my breast, squishing it like a sandwich. I glanced down and notice numbers 1, 5, 10, 15 on the “breast plate” Mine filled it all the way to the 15! Not bad I thought (like I even knew what these numbers meant). Hurt? No! Weird? Yes! Especially if you look down at your breast tissue and see it in a way that you HAVE NEVER SEEN A BREAST LOOK BEFORE. Not even Picasso himself could masterfully arrange this form.
Back in the waiting room…
I open a Christmas issue of Redbook and WA-LA! A before and after picture of a lady, with thin Blond hair, with the reverse boob (oops, I meant bob, I will leave that slip) I rip out the picture for what’s her name because of the similarity. I am still in my super hero cape! Wait wait wait…, 20 more minutes. “Mrs. Turnbach”, (I am used to being called by my sur name at this point, “Yess!” “Come with me”. We step into a room and I am barely through the doorway before the nurse says; “Everything is fine, you have healthy breast tissue, we will see you back… (Is she kidding? fine? I went through all of this and I am fine, this is surreal, I was prepared for the worst, hair loss, reconstruction if necessary, buying everything with pink on it, when is the walk?) In 5 years at age 40, 35 is just a base line. Then after the age of 40 it is once a year, O.K.” I respond with a big, “O.K., O.K.”! Yippee, I trot back to the dressing room/waiting room. There was some baby powder I took advantage of since you have to have the test with no deodorant on or perfumes. Dressed, my black Coach bag dusted with powder, I leave the office but not before finding Miss Nice Person to give her the picture of the Redbook Model. She seemed to genuinely appreciate the gesture and said she may just get the nerve to try the new style one day. Then she asked me if I cut hair? “No”, I said.
Off I go…back in my truck I felt dizzy…where am I going? Hey, who cares, I do not have cancer, Thank God! THANK GOD!
Breast Cancer awareness has significantly increased over the past several years. In 2007, 32 million dollars was raised for The Breast Cancer Research Foundation. Perhaps all this awareness has frightened some women believing; I could have breast cancer. This may or may not be the case. The best detection of this potentially fatal and life changing illness is the Mammogram! So GO! GO every year, DO NOT wait, there is nothing to be worried about; See!
Bridget Turnbach is the owner of The Pampered Spirit Mobile Massage & Spa Co. Bringing the spa experience to you in the comfort and convenience of your home, office or hotel suite.
http://thepamperedspiritnj.com
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)