I woke up in the middle of the night to find my hand moving of its own accord into my shirt to feel the side of my left breast near my armpit. There was a small formation underneath the surface, the size of a small stone. I fell back asleep with thoughts of breast cancer in my head. A few hours later, panic set in. I’ve been so focused on getting my Crohn’s Disease under control that I don’t have a gynecologist in Chicago yet. How will I get an appointment before my insurance changes again? The loss of two maternal relatives both to breast cancer, harping on my mom to get a mammogram, the loss of my friend Maura just a few short months ago, and another good friend in recovery right now, all of these facts flashed by me. My list left unchecked.
Before the panic took over, I quieted myself with a meditation I’ve learned from my life coach. I went inside and immediately a voice started speaking. Not a guide, not an internal voice, and not my ego, but a deceased woman named LizBeth. I do not know this woman and she didn’t care. She called me a ninny and told me that she died of breast cancer. I had the sensation of my breasts filled with marbles. She told me she acts as a wake-up call to the living; guiding them to find their own small growths. How often do people listen? Maybe half the time. Some schedules appointments, but most ignore it completely, thinking they made it up and it will go away. Does she know when it’s cancer? Sometimes, but for me it’s most likely something that needs to be removed. But, I need to be more careful.
She said my friend Maura wanted to speak to me. Maura passed away from breast cancer earlier this year. Her doctors told the family it was one of the most aggressive cases they had ever seen. When Maura said hello, I could feel my throat constrict. She said this was a side effect from the ventilator she was on before she died. I asked if she was happier now. She said yes. She’s with her mom, all her relatives and loved ones. Does she have any regrets? She said she had too many expectations of people in her life. Blame was her way of protecting herself from love and from being hurt, even her conservative political beliefs were a way of placing unreasonable expectations on herself and others. She offered me advice of how to let go of my own expectations of others and how to let people in instead. When she comes back next time, she won’t be that way so she can experience more love in her next life.
Why did they come to me? Will the dead start talking to me more frequently? Yes, they will give me messages of how to help the living actually live. Not just a reminder for me to go to the doctor, and not specific messages for people who’ve experienced loss, but clear points of view on how to live from the other side.