Blogging Success

I am excited to share my first post in the Huffington Post Blog: 
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/tanya-rasa/reclaiming-my-voice_b_6117858.html!

Last month, I attended Emerging Women Live 2014, at which Arianna Huffington spoke.  I approached her to thank her for writing Thrive and mentioned that I only learned to really thrive after having thyroid cancer and losing my voice. She graciously listened, gave me her business card, and asked me to share my story. During the conference, Tara Mohr encouraged us to Play Big and set an intention to do one thing that would move us forward toward our goal within two weeks.  I set my intention to send Arianna my story. Then, Gabrielle Bernstein led us through a powerful yoga meditation, where she encouraged us to focus on positive thoughts because whatever we were thinking would be magnified.  One of my visions during that meditation was seeing my story on the Huffington Post Blog!

Yet, did I immediately send an email to Arianna when I got home? No. Life got in the way. One week went by.  And then those pesky fears began to show themselves. You know the ones: Who am I to think that I can get published on the Huffington Post Blog? Was my story really that inspiring to get that type of coverage? As the second week drew to a close, I sat myself down and gave myself a "talking to," in my mother's words. And in that meeting with my inner voice, I made the following statement, "I won't know if I don't try. I can't succeed if I don't try. So try already!"

So, I poured out my story in an email to Arianna and hit send. I assumed it would be a long wait and that I would get a response from an assistant eventually. Imagine my surprise when I received a lovely response from Arianna within the hour! And now my story is published on the Huffington Post Blog! Freaking amazing!

The responses that I have received to my post have been so uplifting! Friends who were my voice when I couldn't speak sent me messages about how I inspired them while I went through my cancer journey. My family spoke of the strength that they've seen in me my entire life. A childhood friend thanked me for the lesson that she received from the blog, and another thyroid cancer survivor recounted her story of overcoming her vocal cord struggles by singing. And my EW sisters continue to give me support and encourage me to use my voice!  Thank you all!
 

Vestiges of Thyroid Cancer

I am a thyroid cancer survivor. While undergoing a routine physical, my doctor noticed a lump in my neck and ordered an ultrasound. When the ultrasound showed a nodule greater than 1 cm, she ordered a fine needle aspiration (FNA). Going into the procedure, I was comforted by the fact that 95 percent of thyroid nodules are benign. Mine came back suspicious for cancer. A second FNA confirmed that I was in the 1 percent of the U.S. population diagnosed with thyroid cancer.

Both my doctor and my surgeon assured me that my cancer was “the best cancer to have,” as there is a 5-year survival rate of over 97 percent. I was told that I needed surgery to remove my thyroid and then I would have to take a pill a day for the rest of my life but that I would be able to lead a normal life. Sounds easy, right? Not so fast! Since I underwent my thyroidectomy 5 years ago, I've experienced a number of complications:

• Vocal cord paralysis resulting in the loss of speech;
• Decreased lung capacity due to the paralysis;
• Difficulty swallowing;
• Calcium deficiency as my parathyroid glands were touched during surgery;
• Pregnancy ban for 1 year;
• Allergies, including to my life-saving thyroid medication;
• Fast pulse and heart palpitations;
• Anxiety;
• Fatigue and brain fog;
• Dry mouth; 
• Burning mouth; and
• Dry eyes.

Thyroid cancer patients have to be placed in a hyperthyroid state to keep the cancer away, but it is difficult to get the correct dosage that also minimizes the myriad of side effects. So, instead of one pill a day, I currently take 15 pills daily! In addition, my cancer had spread outside of my thyroid; so, I had to undergo radioactive iodine treatment. Under quarantine, I took my radioactive pill and engaged in a nuclear war with my renegade thyroid cells! However, at the 1-year mark, my endocrinologist told me that she may never be able to declare me in remission.

Sounds horrible, right? How can any doctor say that I have the “best cancer?” Looking back on the last five years, I could easily have become depressed, but instead I chose to be happy and find ways to thrive.

• When I was told that my vocal cord paralysis was permanent after a year with no voice, I used visualization techniques daily for 6 months, believing that I would one day speak again. According to my ENT, it was a one in a million chance to be able to speak normally and scream with a paralyzed vocal cord. I did it!
• When my endocrinologist told me that I may never be in remission, it could have devastated me, but instead, I simply said, “I am in remission. You just don't realize it yet!” I never stopped believing, and at the 4-year mark, she finally agreed with my assessment!
• When I take my thyroid medication upon waking each morning, I give thanks that I am alive and have a beautiful life! It's a daily reminder to start the day out right!
• I stay in tune with my body, exercising regularly and striving (though not always achieving) to get 8 hours of sleep a night. I've recently begun taking a kundalini yoga class to help build my lung capacity and reduce stress.
• I embrace laughter. My domestic partner takes his job of making me laugh seriously. He has me in stitches every day! And my 91-year old grandmother is a riot! Laughter is truly the best medicine!
• I created a bucket list. My list stretches me to get outside my comfort zone, to try new things, and to live life to the fullest. One of my goals is to run a 5K, which has been unattainable to date because of my decreased lung capacity, but I've set the intention and know that I'll be successful even if I have to crawl over the finish line wearing an oxygen mask! And after that, I want to go hiking in Nepal!

Yes, I face challenges in my life as a result of the vestiges of thyroid cancer. There are days that I don't have the energy to get out of bed, but I do anyway. There are days that I can't think clearly, but I laugh about it and keep trying. Why? Because every day is a miracle to me. That I am alive without my thyroid, the organ that regulates the body, is a miracle! That I regained my speech is a miracle! That I am in remission is a miracle! Yes, I live with the vestiges of thyroid cancer. As a result, my life is so much richer!

Owning a Child-free Life

I just finished reading Ever Upward, a non-fiction book written by Justine Brooks Froelker on how she overcame infertility losses to own a child-free life. In full disclosure, Justine and I are friends, and I am mentioned in the book. I purchased Ever Upward to support a friend, but what I got out of it was a whole lot more. Through her writing, Justine made me face my own struggles with infertility, and the accompanying shame, that I had tamped down inside myself.

Justine and I met at Emerging Women Live 2013, waiting for Brene Brown to sign our books. We realized that we were assigned to the same small group dinner led by Erin Weed and made plans to go together. During that dinner, Justine told us her story but in a clinical, matter of fact way. Yet, Erin pushed Justine to be vulnerable, demanding that she tell her story in her own words. With raw emotion, Justine said, "I will own and not just prove." And she has done just that with Ever Upward!

Justine's Story: Due to two major back surgeries in high school, it was not safe for Justine to carry a child. She told herself that she didn't want to be a parent, but with surrogacy, she and her husband Chad were given just that chance. Ever Upward takes us through through their search for a surrogate, Justine's infertility treatments resulting in the retrieval of 3 eggs, and their devastating loss when pregnancy did not result. Justine and Chad also know that adoption is not right for them. Justine speaks openly of the shame and depression she felt and how she emerged into being her own self again and embraced a child-free but child-full life. She tells her story as part of her healing, but also so that other women facing a similar situation will know that they are not alone.

My Story: I have always wanted to be a parent. Yet, I am not. As I waited on the father of my children to arrive in my life, I focused on my career. Year after year slipped away, but I didn't act on my desire because I felt like I still had time and didn't want to be a single parent. And then I met someone special and was ready to begin trying to conceive when I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Undergoing radioactive iodine treatment required a 1-year pregnancy ban as it could cause serious birth defects. As the ban ended so did my relationship, but the desire to be a mom strengthened. Speaking with my doctor, I remember her words, "I'm sorry Tanya, but it would be unwise to get pregnant. Your health is too delicate." I reached out to an infertility specialist who gave me hope and even lined up a sperm donor. Yet, I didn't go through with it. Having thyroid cancer puts me at greater risk for other endocrine cancers, and as I researched the infertility treatments, I could not be guaranteed that they wouldn't increase that risk further. And then I met Ben. He wants children as much as I do, but he is adamant that my health is more important. I am that dear to him.

Justine's story in Ever Upward resonated with me. I know the longing in my heart to be a mom. I know the shame of being childless in a world full of children. I experience pain when someone asks how many children I have or even worse, being a full-figured woman, when I'm due. Yet, like Justine, I have to own my story and continue to emerge into my own. Thanks for the reminder Justine!

If you are experiencing infertility or know someone who is, please consider reading Ever Upward.

Body Image

Body image is defined as the feelings a person has about his/her body. I developed a negative body image at an early age, which followed me into adulthood. It started at age 4. I was an early bloomer in having unhealthy thoughts about what others thought of me. I was also a perfectionist.

When I was four years old, my little cousin made her arrival into this world, and I was no longer the baby of the family. I was jealous! One day, she wore only a diaper and a smile that had everyone in my family cooing over her. Desperately seeking to have the attention placed on me again, I decided that I needed to look more like her. So, I took off my shirt. One of my older male cousins spotted me and gave me a severe scolding: “You are a big girl, not a baby! Big girls do not show their titties! Now act your age!” For the first time in my life, I felt ashamed of my body. I had overheard a previous conversation among my cousins about a bad girl who showed boys her tits. So, I internalized that, as only bad girls show their tits, I was a bad girl. I had ruined my perfect good girl status. In that instant, I became self-conscious of my non-existent breasts.

Fast forward to middle school...the ages of 11-13 were difficult. I hit puberty -- my body changed, and my emotions ran rampant! I was one of the first of my friends to wear a bra, and my breasts continued to grow and grow and grow. It was like someone had put Miracle-Gro in my milk! I was a 36C in a 100 pound, 5 feet 5 inch body. And that's when my older female cousins began to tease me, pointing out how big my boobs were in comparison to theirs. Already fragile, I spiraled into shame. I didn't realize that they were envious of me. Instead, I believed my breasts were not normal, gargantuan even! I hated the attention that they brought me and became even more self-conscious. 

If that wasn't enough, in 7th grade, I was diagnosed with scoliosis and had to wear a back brace for three years. I was the freak who had to get permission from the Governor to play middle school basketball because parents, and therefore the School Board, feared that my back brace could hurt their children. Suffice it to say, my negative body image was cemented by age 13.

It wasn't until college that I finally accepted my breasts after realizing that society (um...men) considered them to be the perfect size. Unfortunately, by the time that I came to that conclusion, I had developed another negative self image -- my weight. Yes, I gained the freshmen 15. I felt fat; therefore, in my mind, I was fat.

I let fat define me for most of my adult life. I either dieted or indulged. I mostly indulged as I am a stress eater. I was unhappy with my body. I took another shame spiral when my sister-in-law gave me a weight loss book one Christmas because it confirmed in my mind how others saw me. I hated looking at my body. And, if I didn't love my body, then I was sure that men wouldn't love my body – and therefore me – either. So, why date? For awhile, I didn't.

Being diagnosed with hypothyroidism and then surviving thyroid cancer helped me re-frame my thoughts about my body. As the thyroid regulates your metabolism, hypothyroidism causes your metabolism to slow down, resulting in weight gain. Now having no thyroid, I must rely on the correct dosage of thyroid medication to regulate my metabolism. As I've come to understand the internal workings of my body, I stand amazed! I now eat healthier to give it the proper fuel. I strengthen it through exercise. And while I have challenged myself to lose weight this year, I know that I will never be the image of the lithe supermodel airbrushed in the pages of a magazine. Neither do I compare myself to that unreachable, perfect standard anymore.

Of course, there are days that I backslide – when I look at my bum in the mirror and see cellulite instead of a cute tush. But, in Ben, I have found a supportive partner. He's not afraid to point out when I am backsliding, which helps me re-frame He encourages me to strive to be healthy while not making me feel it's a statement that I am fat. He shows me that I am beautiful when I have difficulty seeing it on my own.

Life Lesson: Only you determine how you picture your body and how you feel about it. If you have a negative body image, seek out support to help you re-frame your thoughts. Learn to appreciate your body for what it accomplishes, not how you perceive it to look.

Life is what you make of it

After reading my first blog post, a friend confessed that she struggles with finding her voice and noted her surprise that I did as well. Her next statement stunned me and had me conducting an introspective analysis all week – “You make life look easy.” I do? Really? How? Since when?  How am I not even aware of that? Why am I not aware of that? And then I realized that our friendship developed after my major life events and that maybe she saw me using the coping tools that I gained from those experiences in stressful situations.  

Life is not easy for anyone, but I have come to realize that my life is what I make of it. No one else is responsible for my thoughts and actions but me. I have to be willing to use my voice. I have to be willing to put in the time and effort to assess how I respond to a situation, find tools that will help me cope, and then actively use those tools. Sitting in the driver's seat while cruising down the road of life, I oftentimes see open road and beautiful scenery. But, when I least expect it, there are signs along the road saying SLOW DOWN or CAUTION or DETOUR AHEAD. After these signs, I usually come across potholes, large and small. If I am paying attention to the signs, I am able to navigate carefully around, but sometimes I swerve recklessly. At other times, signs stating STOP or DANGER seem to pop up quickly because a sinkhole is looming right out of sight. I hit a sinkhole once in my life but averted another. I don't like sinkholes. Once is enough for me.

SINKHOLE: I was striving for excellence in my chosen career. I made a determined effort to climb the ladder of success as fast as I could. I wanted to be the best, and I put in the work needed and reaped the rewards. And then my mother became ill. I became Super Tanya, teleworking full-time so that I could care for her full-time – and during Hurricane Katrina no less. And then my mother died. I was grieving, while at the same time managing her estate, dealing with family and relationship issues, being promoted to management and leading a high profile project. With the pillar of my support network gone, I blindly ran the STOP sign and blew through the DANGER barricade. I found myself freefalling into a sinkhole! Yet, with the help of a therapist and my friends, I found coping tools that I began to use and shored up my support network, allowing me to climb out of the sinkhole with their assistance.

SINKHOLE AVERTED: During my thyroid cancer journey and resulting vocal cord paralysis, I began to skid towards another sinkhole, but I managed to stop in time by using the coping tools I had put in my tool box from my first sinkhole experience and learning new ones. I proactively sought out the therapist and spent quality time with my friends. My favorite memory of this time was when I was in isolation following radioactive iodine therapy, and my best friend called long distance every day to read me Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love. I set up boundaries at work, turning in my blackberry and ending work outside of business hours. I joined a gym to strengthen my body and to help alleviate some of my stress. I learned the importance of my voice and how to use it. In fact, I learned to say NO! I began to laugh more. And most importantly, I began shifting my focus to being positive and living a more wholehearted life.

My life is not easy even if others perceive it to look so. I have to work darn hard at it! I still have a very demanding job and, with it, a lot of stress. Seriously, a lot of stress! Having no thyroid, I deal with medical issues on a daily basis. Of course, there are family and relationship challenges as well. And while I try to eat healthy, there are days that I slide back into stress eating. The difference is that now I am more aware of myself. I listen to my body. I seek out my support network. I laugh every day. If I slip into negativity or stress eating, I focus and do better the next day. And I believe in myself wholeheartedly!

LIFE LESSON: Life is not easy, but your life is what you make of it. Believe in yourself, and don't be ashamed to ask for assistance to avert a sinkhole or to get out of one!

Reclaiming My Voice

Five years ago, I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer, and my life changed. At the time of diagnosis, I had a bolt of clarity that I needed to reassess my life, but the change didn't occur immediately or swiftly. For me, it has been a gradual process of learning, changing, and growing. Little did I know the winding path that I would end up taking or the lessons of life that I would learn along the way.

My cancer is “the best cancer to have” as told by many doctors because it has the highest survival rate. I happen to be in the 1 percent where a specific complication arose. The nerve to my vocal cord was severed when the surgeon removed an infected lymph node that had grown around my vocal cord. It left me with vocal cord paralysis on the right side, limited lung capacity, and no voice. This was definitely not the 1 percent of the population that I was striving to be!

For 18 months, I did not have my voice. I could not speak normally. I could not use tone inflection. I could not scream, but I wanted to on many occasions! I could only whisper – a soft whisper at that. I lost my ability to be heard. Even my dog would look at me quizzically when I gave him a command!

At a year, I was told that the reattached nerve wasn't working and that I would never get my voice back. I was devastated! And then I began visualization therapy on my own. I visualized the neurons firing from my brain down to my vocal cord and then making a sharp right turn down the muscles of my throat. Think Space Invaders with a twist. I did this every day for 6 months. 

According to my doctor, it was a one in a million chance, but the muscles surrounding my vocal cord picked up the slack. While my vocal cord is still paralyzed, I can speak normally and use tone inflection. It took another year before I could scream again, but being chased by Chucky in the House of Horrors at Universal Studios solved that problem! 

During my journey, I learned a valuable lesson. I did not know what my voice was worth until I lost it. And then I began to see how precious it was. I realized that I had not used it properly. I had minimized my voice. Before, I did not voice my dreams. Before, I did not speak up when being verbally abused. Before, I thought I could keep from dwelling on problems if I did not vocalize them. Before, I thought that if I didn't say much, people wouldn't realize that I was not perfect. Now, I speak up if I don't agree. Now, I tell someone if they hurt me. Now, I don't hide my imperfections because they are part of me. Now, I speak of my dreams and work to achieve them. Of course, I stumble at times – sometimes more often than not – and dip head first into my old habits. However, as I become aware, I refocus my efforts.

This blog is the next step in reclaiming my voice. I hope that you, the readers, will benefit from the insights that I've gained but also help me puzzle out the pieces of my life where I don't have clarity yet. I invite you to come along on this journey with me and see where we both end up!