Recently, one of those bumps took on an unusual form.  It grew quickly, rapidly showing up as something not seen before, and so we had it checked.

Keep in mind that my girl has had more surgeries than fingers and toes, and has only this year begun allowing the fine folks in medicine to do a little nip and tuck in the office to remove the offspring of her birthmark.  She has bravely faced her fears several times this year to improve the appearance and comfort of her face.

When the diagnosis came back as squamous cell carcinoma and would require surgery, I was faced with a double demon.

How do I deal with this myself?  I have my own baggage around cancer.  My mom and sister both dealt with it and I rode that tiger alongside them.  Then there’s surgery.  How much more of this could my girl handle, could I handle?

I felt anger too, anger at God who could have given us this proverbial cross to bear. Really?  A kid who has been through so much?  A kid who struggles with pain and oddities in her body every waking and restful moment of every day?  Cancer?  Broken bones and kidney stones and heart surgery aren’t enough? Really God? This is just too much.

I felt my fear, felt my overwhelm.  I lolled around in the inequity of it all, the feeling of it just being too much to bear.  For both of us, all of us.  I let that fear run my show for awhile until it reminded me:  I was projecting my future, her future, based only on what I have lived and known to this point.

Alright God, I told myself.  Show me what I don’t know.  I believe in possibility.  Bring it.

My basis for being afraid was the notion that cancer was a big scary situation that is evil, the source of widespread suffering and death.  I had even lived that with my family. But then I remembered my momma beat a cancer that by all intents and purposes was supposed to have been her demise.  And then I remembered that I get to choose my thoughts about anything, and that my thoughts truly do affect my life.

I began to reprogram myself about the C word to more accurately reflect my inner knowing about the subject.  Then I taught it to my girl.

Instead of calling it cancer, a word whose very mention carries menacing overtones, we would be calling those cells creative.  They were just cells that started doing their own thing, and just as quickly as they started, they could stop.  Why not?  We took the fuel out of that firey word right then and there.  And I felt better.

Our belief came toe to toe with the medical establishment.  We were referred to the professionals who were 99% successful at removing all those creative cells through a process called Mohs surgery.

The S word.

Reframing the meaning behind that word took some doing as parts of my girl are frozen in fear about anything related to surgery.  For her it means general anesthesia, nausea, pain I can’t even imagine, and months of recovery, limitations and isolation.

This was actually an outpatient procedure similar and more invasive than what she had successfully conquered earlier this year, but she couldn’t hear that.  The feelings she had associated with the S word were overreaching her ability to reason or see things differently.

It took much coaching and repetition on my part to crack open that door of possibility, but she grudgingly peered through it.

At our consultation, the kind and thorough young physician sought to put us at ease. In his world, peace comes through information and included language like Cancer and Surgery.   My girl froze like a deer in headlights as he spoke.  In my attempt to redefine the C word for me, I had never used it with her.  She was stunned.

More language, more reframing, more shifting our focus to what can be.  I pulled her sled of fear into unknown territory, confident that the future I could see would soon be visible to her.

And so it was.  Me leading, her reluctantly moving through this entire process, begrudgingly considering things could be different. Interestingly, the creative cells were the easiest part for her. No history, very little sack of meaning to unpack. Surgery, however, came with an entire truckload of stored experiences.

When it was time, she made it through with a little help from her friends.  For the first time, she reached out to some trusted loved ones for support and lightheartedness. She decided in the face of its inevitability to take the leap from where she was to where she wanted to be.  She focused on happy texts and baby goat videos (seriously, is there anything cuter?).  I could see she felt the difference.

When it was successfully all over, we sat in the car for a moment to gather ourselves before heading out for a celebratory smoothie.

“This surgery was different, wasn’t it?” I asked her. She nodded her head yes.

In that moment, in that tender moment of feeling like we had come through the battle, slightly battered and emotionally on the other side, I knew history had rewritten itself.

The old definitions of cancer and surgery are blurred, erased by this new perspective, the one chosen by me and my girl.

The post Cancer – What’s in a Word? appeared first on Kathy Milburn.

With a special child, young woman really, there’s an absence of feedback, that typical acknowledgement of understanding. ‘Yes, I understand’ are words I often long to hear, just to confirm that I’m doing this for a reason and not just for myself.

But there’s the clincher.

My girl is like so many in our lives who simply don’t respond when taking in information. Zero. Nada. And I realized that it doesn’t really matter.

I’ll never absolutely know if my actions, my words, my showing up as myself will have any impact on anyone in this world.

But I do know this: I impact me.

If for no other reason and the absolute best reason, I encourage and teach, model and behave like the best version of myself that I can, just for me, then I get the most wonderful benefit of feeling good about myself.

Still though, it’s nice to get feedback, and the other day I got just that.

My girl has been sitting with her grandmother as she recovers from knee surgery.

One day as her pain was intense, I heard Mary Katherine tell her Gran, “If you watch something happy or funny on TV it will help you feel better.”

Wow. Words from my own mouth…she IS listening and hearing and understanding.

I encourage each of you today to continue to say the words, take the actions, model the behavior. Do it for yourself because it feels right, then trust that those around you are getting exactly what they need.

One day you may find your child watching Reba reruns, giggling with her grandmother.

The post Your life is Your Feedback appeared first on Kathy Milburn.

It has been especially glorious in our lovely beachside town this week, and I chose to pull off the road and take full advantage of it, even if it was just for a short walk. That short walk with my toes in the sand and the icy waters around my ankles proved just the thing to wash away my worries and concerns, and breathe fresh life into my thoughts, my day.

I was reminded of the early baby days with my girl, those days where the incessant crying was about all she could do. I knew it wasn’t about me, that this was just her way of expressing herself. It was all she had and she did it well.

My role was to soothe her, to hold her cocoon like in a nest of love. It was all I had and it was everything. She was moving through her own babyhood experience and all I could do, the most I could do was hold her and love her through it.

So I loved her, and reassured her, sang to her and cuddled her. Until…until sometimes almost all at once I simply couldn’t do it anymore. There was nothing left from me. My tank ran dry, at least for that time, and it was all I could do just to be with her.

Sometimes I put her in her crib. Sometimes I shoved her in my husband’s arms as soon as he came home. Sometimes I got angry. Sometimes I cried.

With the passing of time and the lesson of repetition, I have come to embrace kindness to myself as equally important as love for my child. Clearly when I am depleted I have nothing from which to give. A dried up desert has no water for anyone.
How can I love her without taking care of me?

So today, that kindness to my myself looked like a great cup of coffee from my favorite place and a nice surprise walk on the beach at 78 degrees in February. That little break, that simple decision to shower myself with the same love and compassion I do with all of my loved ones (and there are so many!) softened my heart and my attitude.

In finding kindness toward myself, I’m kinder to those around me. I’m loving them in that cuddly nest, and I’m making sure there’s one for me too.

Be kind to yourself today.

The post Kindness appeared first on Kathy Milburn.

The signs are all to clear for me, a mom like so many who loves her girl so much that she notices even the imperceptible. But there it was, plain as day. Not wanting to walk, not wanting to move, not having the energy to engage in much of life are hallmarks of my girl swerving in the direction of something neither of us wanted to look toward.

As timing would have it, we were at the New Year, and I, in my almost unfailing optimism, asked her what she wanted to create or experience in 2016.

“I want the pain to stop,” she said, then quickly added, “not that I mind it hurting. It just isn’t stopping.”

Ow. That nugget of information she offered up pierced my heart.

I took a breath and answered with all the depth of knowing from our years of growing and learning together and apart.

“Let’s turn that into something that you do want, rather than what you don’t want. Remember, the Universe brings you what you focus on, negative or positive. How about we say that 2016 is the year of feeling better?” She nodded her head.

Feeling better for us looks like doing something in the moment that can make us feel just a little lighter, a little happier, a little ease.

For my girl, we brainstormed ideas and came up with a hug, a call to her sister, changing positions – anything that helps her feel better right now, in this very moment. And we started right away.

Stopping The Pain feels big. And in the midst of pain, it’s almost inconceivable that she could feel complete relief, especially for a girl who’s had a lifetime of it. She couldn’t allow herself to believe that was possible.

So we started small to crack the door of possibility open just a little believable bit at a time, focusing on the moment we have right in front of us. A heart hug right now, ahhh, had us both feeling better, right now. That, we both could believe in.

Several days later as my girl was moving about in the early morning, I asked her how her legs were doing. She paused, then said with surprise, “My legs don’t hurt!”

Inside I smiled. “Why are you surprised? This is what you wanted.” She thought about that for a minute and said, “Oh yeah. I did!”

My girl had opened that door of possibility and walked right in.

The post The Door of Possibility appeared first on Kathy Milburn.

My body has this foolproof way of letting me know when I need to slow down, and if I ignore it, it just gets louder and louder until I end up flat on the couch. Oh yeah, I’m like that, thinking I can do it all, for everyone, all the time.

But the body says, uh uh.

After ending up flat on the couch again last night, I listened. Today I took some time for me.

I know from past history that one of the best things for me to do to replenish my tank is to do something creative. So I pulled out my treasure chest of beads and findings and wires and tools, lit a candle, put on some music and made some jewelry.

Presto! In less than 2 hours, I felt like a new woman, more like my old self again.

And I have resolved to keep this holiday simple. Wish me luck on that – I have a long history of doing otherwise. I’m going to eat the foods that nourish me and avoid the traditions that don’t. I’m staying out of the shopping and in the arms of friends and family.

And I’m remembering to fill my tank with creativity, nature and a good night’s sleep.

What are you doing to fuel yourself during the holidays? I’d love to know…

The post Filling My Tank appeared first on Kathy Milburn.

The sun is shining on a brand new day here, made more special by being healthy. We’ve been traveling coast to coast and in the process, my girl and I picked up some travel bugs. Under the weather and feeling crummy for almost 2 weeks (not so easy for this gal I tell you), everything looks a little sharper, the day a little brighter, each breath a little fuller now that well being has returned.

I took that sometimes frustrating downtime to shift my attitude. My friend observed that some sickness makes you emotional or down, while some expresses itself as just physical aches and pains. This was definitely a downer illness, and I found myself uncomfortably sweating out old beliefs that don’t work for me anymore.

Conscious of my Debbie Downer attitude, I made a choice to do something to lift my vibe. As I went to the pile of DVDs hoping to find something light and cheerful, there in the top was an old copy of The Secret. I hadn’t watched that for years…it felt like just the ticket I needed.

So snuggled in side by side on the couch with a drink for each of us and a box of tissues to share, my girl and I watched classic Law of Attraction teachers explain some wisdom of the universe. How much would she absorb, I wondered, then realized she would get what she would get from it. I would feel better, that I knew for sure.

We have always known, felt, believed that my girl would be healed, she most of all. It’s not something we often speak about. We just know.

So at the end of the movie, having heard stories of amazingness and the power of our thoughts, my girl quietly and confidently said, “It’s happening. What’s going on with my body…I know it’s coming.”

Yes, yes it is…And the sun shines bright.

The post Confidently Hopeful appeared first on Kathy Milburn.

For it’s long after the diagnosis, the therapy regimens and surgeries, the doctors appointments and research, that the life we have both chosen to lead is clear and ragged and oh so different than what I had ever planned.

It’s a life where everything is in slow motion because that’s how our girl rolls – literally sometimes. It’s a life where there is never any pick up and go, jump in the car let’s have an adventure, c’mon lets be spontaneous and free and easy.

It’s a life where we don’t get invited places because we literally can’t access them. No hiking, no exploring, no let’s let the kids run around – heck let’s run around with them!

This life is calculated and measured by steps to be taken, stress she can handle, places she can fit or roll or manage. This life is full of limitations, and tonight I am feeling all of them. The friends who don’t know how to just hang with our girl, the friends who don’t know how to hang with me because we are different, and different can be pretty uncomfortable for many who don’t understand. Truth is, sometimes I don’t know what to make of us either.

I find myself planning my life around her. I have the great joy of two fun weekend plans out of town, but for me that becomes a challenge. Two consecutive weekends away from my girl are stressful for her as our support system is adequate, but definitely not great. So I chose one weekend over the other when my heart clearly wants to do both.

As I write this, I shed a tear for my lost fun, my cumulative sacrifice of almost 15 years and I wonder in my sadness, how will this continue? How can I continue?

Clearly, this is a moment, an opportunity to see what I really want. Funny how a single tear will literally wash out the fog of emotion so that I can shift toward what I desire.

Tonight, I want a support system, someone who can help with my girl who gets her, who has fun with her, someone she can enjoy and hang out with who has the skills to help her. In short, we need a clone of my girl’s big sister to bring love and joy and play and understanding.

I need someone to help her go to bed at night, to manage the up to 2 hour routine with fresh legs and a happy heart, for I see that I am weary.

I am weary.

This journey is full of love and expansion, but it is long. Endurance is not for the feint of heart. It requires training and rest, good nutrition and support at every turn. It requires a constant assessment of the current conditions and appropriate adjustments to those conditions.

So here I am, just reassessing my situation. What am I going to do with it?

Get some help. Know anyone?

P.S. Just having a plan makes me feel oh so much better. Doesn’t that work for you too? Clarity, my friends, even for the next moment, is what brings peace, connection, ease.

The post The Long Road appeared first on Kathy Milburn.

I heard this loud and clear as I struggled with a mishmash of feelings Monday morning. I was rested, yes, but I was definitely not refreshed.

My weekend was spent focused on supporting a girl in pain who was searching for relief and distraction. I focused on my amazing husband who was creating change and growing massively in his professional life. I was keenly aware and present to both of them expanding and growing, and I committed myself fully to being there for them.

Once again, I forgot about me. Silly girl.

No wonder I awoke Monday morning feeling a bit cheated on my weekend. I gave myself up, laid myself down for those I love, and forgot to take care of myself in the process.

Don’t get me wrong. Being of service is one my passions, perhaps my strongest passion and it fills my soul. It’s just that my desire to serve is sometimes so strong I overextend myself, and then things get wonky. The very thing I feel passionate about seems to be juxtaposed to my desire for joy, that joy that fills me up, floats my boat, lights my fire.

I’m learning to recognize earlier when the serving goes from joyful to draining and that’s real progress for me. I’m not completely deflated, just a little cranky, and that is way easier to correct. A little self talk, a bit of me time, some heartfelt connections with my girlfriends and I’m all set and ready to go.

Thus, the balloons, the perfect visual. They are happy and naturally buoyant, and just plain fun. When I hold my string to my own balloon, I just bounce up, literally pulling toward the sky with excitement and anticipation, and there’s that word again, joy.

Over serving is like tying my string to someone else’s agenda, their life, their experiences, and boy does it feel awkward. Exhausting even.

It’s so much healthier for each of us to have our own string, our own balloon, allowing us to find our natural way to float. And in doing so, we all easily support each other with a light heart.

This handful of balloons is a little reminder that each of us is happiest when we hold onto our own string. I’m picking the spunky red one!

The post Don’t tie your string to anyone else’s balloon appeared first on Kathy Milburn.

At 14 and 15 years old, Tabitha and Morgan created Pawsitive Possibilities after being inspired by the benefits Tabitha received from her service dog, Sonny. You see, Tabitha has trouble walking and Sonny stabilizes her and enables her to walk independently. That inspiration led to their desire to help others.

When you have a condition where you would benefit from a service dog, chances are your dollars are being allocated to things like doctors and hospital bills, specialized equipment and the like. Enter these magical young women, and shazam! A service dog becomes a realistic opportunity.

For us, her name is Atti.

And so, with excitement and nervousness, these dynamos made a full on presentation, complete with logo, website, video and their first service dog placement, Mary Katherine and Atti.

Mary gave her thank you speech, Atti gave a little demo of how she helps Mary. Was it perfect? No. Was it exactly what everyone needed in the moment? Yes.

My heart twinged a bit as the stress of traveling, interrupted sleep, hormones and presenting to 250 students lined up into the perfect storm of confusion for my girl. But she spoke from her heart and those who were meant to hear her message heard it with a voice beyond words, the voice that touches the soul.

We have come to give thanks and that we have. We are forging new friendships that will last a lifetime. And tomorrow we get to speak again to the high school, each time getting better at telling our story and connecting with our hearts.

These two young women didn’t wait, didn’t hold back on creating their dream. They just did it.

And we are so grateful they did.

The post Pawsitive Possibilities Places Service Dogs with Loving Partners appeared first on Kathy Milburn.

Years and years of teaching my girl about self soothing and her ability to change everything in the moment, in a brand new breath, just came to fruition.

Years and years of being met with vehement resistance, of her insistence that I solve the situation, that I fix it, just did an about face.

The post Trust the Process appeared first on Kathy Milburn.