Podcast: Tanya Appeared on the Plain Jane Wisdom Radio Show, with Hosts Devon O'Day and Kim McLean -- Friday, April 15, 2011

Listen to the Radio Show Podcast Here

NASHVILLE, TN - April 2011 -- Tanya Touchstone appeared with friends Devon O'Day and Kim McLean on their new WLAC 1510 AM Radio Show Plain Jane Wisdom on April 15, 2011, and talked about her diagnosis and journey with Colorectal Cancer in 2008.  Among those things discussed was her walk with cancer and how she approached it, along with discussion about her huge support network of friends -- from her meditation group, to her work colleagues, to her job, the law firm Bass, Berry & Sims!

Devon O'Day is a veteran radio personality, author, songwriter, and speaker. Her voice has been heard on Fox, Bravo, Lifetime, CMT, GAC, The Food Network, HGTV, CBS, NBC, and CBS.

Kim McLean is an Grammy nominated Dove Award winning songwriter artist and speaker who holds a master's degree in Biblical theology from Trevecca Nazarene University.  She is heard weekly on "Minute on the Mountain", a sermonette during the WSIX Country Spirit Show.  Her music has been heard on CBS's Cold Case and JAG, NBC's West Wing, ABC's Hope & Faith and  As the World Turns as well as several film soundtracks. 

Articles by Tanya About the Cancer Experience

Faith

Separating the Light from the Dark; The Canvass of Life
"I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free”. — Michelangelo

Lowampi

Rain

Miracles and Wings

A Simple Cup of Joe

Life Sounds  

Tanya's Blog - Every Problem Has a Gift for You in its Hands

It Would Be a Pity to Waste a Good Crisis

**Sent to me by my friends at One Dharma Nashville

Zen Student: "When times of great difficulty visit us, how should we greet them?"

Teacher: "Welcome."

In a Dark Place, You Still Have What Really Counts

The beauty and nobility of your life might be more visible to you if a dark contrast is available. A woman who was meditating with the koan at the start of this piece-the little conversation about hard times and "welcome"-was in an unusual situation. Her father was prosecuted for the murder of her mother, a death that happened decades ago and for which no resolution has been found. No one close to the situation believes her father did this. But someone with a grudge, and hearsay evidence, and a relative with dementia, and an eager prosecutor...If it's a cliché that a prosecutor can get a grand jury to indict a ham sandwich, it becomes personal when you are related to the ham sandwich.

The woman with the meditation practice noticed something unexpected, though-she is happy, she's not outraged, and although people expect and even want her to be angry with the prosecutor, that is not what she feels. She gave counsel to her father, and sympathy, and money for defense lawyers, but she didn't have to give her own emotional well-being. The intensity of the difficulty actually drove her to deeper practice and the world suddenly became very beautiful, not at an unspecified future date, when the situation would be resolved, but now, when nothing is resolved, or fair, or sensible-now, when it's now. Even the prosecutor's face glowed with light. "No one told me it would be like this," she said. Awakening might happen at any time, perhaps especially when we are convinced that something else is going on. That's a positive surprise, a benign-catastrophe.

If You Are in a Predicament, There Will Be a Gate

In the main, koans are predicaments the you can use in case you don't have one lying around in your life. Usually, of course, you do have a predicament, since being human is a predicament. I might think that it's a bad thing to have lost something, but if I start from the current situation there will always be a doorway. When I meditate it's like calling out a spell in a forgotten language. The spell slowly traces the outlines of a door, making the way out visible, even in twilight, even in the darkest, most forgotten prison. When we lose money or get a diagnosis, we might decide that this is a bad thing, but we might be wrong. Uncertainty and the unknown are not things to endure; they are things to rely on. If you don't even consider winning or losing, there will always be a doorway.

When I had cancer, I thought it might be inconvenient or frightening, but it was interesting. It made me a lot less lazy about being present. There was a time when diagnosis, course of treatment, and outcome were all uncertain, and in that condition my mind reached for certainty over and over again. That quest, being hopeless, brought pain. But when my mind stopped reaching out and fell back into the warm dark of uncertainty, time stretched out infinitely on either side and there was a pool of joy that seemed bottomless-joy in breathing, joy in hearing the birds in the cold before dawn. Having cancer was much more exciting than sitting in an armchair watching the game on Sunday. And everything I looked at had the aspect of tenderness and delicacy. I looked into the checkout clerk's eyes and saw the universe looking back.

--by John Tarrant, from Shambhala Sun

All Clear; Balance

As promised, I'm writing with an update. I know I keep apologizing for not having been here much, but life has been busy. My mother has been terribly ill, in and out of the hospital, and I've been caring for her while at the same time reacquainting myself with life. It's good to be here.

My dear oncologist, Dr. Raefsky, sent me for scans a few weeks ago and with everyone's breath held, we welcomed the news that the scans are clear. I had a hard time digesting that news. After over a year of heavy duty schedules and care, it seems surreal to be able to let up and just enjoy life. Dr. Raefsky was kind enough to let me know right away, not making me wait the several days until my appointment, to hear the news. Again, I am very grateful to have a doctor like him. He is kind, caring, and also brilliant. One cannot ask for a better combination of traits in a doctor when they are going through cancer treatment. Thank you, Dr. Raefsky.

Once the news was back, I let out my breath. It's hard to believe that 2009 is almost over, coming to a close. I've found myself still living in 2008, still digesting all that happened to me. 2010 will be here before I know it, and perhaps then I can catch up with myself, embrace it, and actually be here now, in the present moment.

I've done quite a bit since receiving the 'all clear,' and some of it I did too soon. One thing I didn't do too soon, was enjoy the martini celebration with my dear, sweet bosses at work. It was nice to raise a glass with them, toasting to my health, and I am also very grateful for them and their patience, as they understood each and every time I had to leave early to rearrange schedules in order to keep doctor appointments. My office has been nothing short of incredible in their support. Once again, I am so grateful.

Two weeks ago I traveled with my friend Maribeth to the Shambhala Mountain Center in Denver to attend a 3 day seminar with one of my favorite authors, Gary Zukav. It was wonderful, but this was the thing I did too soon. Hiking a mile in the heat, crude (sort of) accommodations, and food that did not marry well with my ostomy needs made it a little hectic and trying to be there, and I have some neuropathy in my hands and feet since doing that. I overdid it, and I'm trying to go a little slower now. All in all, though, it was worth it, and the setting was beautiful.

Last night I attended the Bill Clinton speech for Jackson Day at the Renaissance hotel, and was able to hear in person Bill Clinton, Al Gore, and Harold Ford, Jr. It was awesome, and the energy in the room was incredible. I had such a wonderful time, and Maribeth accompanied me. Thanks to my boss, Scott, for making our attendance possible.

I will probably not be posting as much or as often as I have in the past. I'm honestly not even sure how many still read this blog! Quite frankly, I want a break from cancer, even though it seems so many around me are being newly diagnosed with cancer every day. I have five years to see if the cancer will return in any form and in any place in my body. I'm trying to focus on good times, friends -- life.

I will, however, be posting informative articles here, and ways you can stave off cancer -- don't forget to filter your water! Inexpensive filtering systems can be found at Target, Wal Mart -- a number of places. Do it. I promise you'll be glad. Don't forget to do the exams your doctor recommends and, really, even if they don't recommend them! Take charge of your health. It's the best thing you can do for yourself.

As I've said before, my family, friends, co-workers, and complete strangers have been my blanket of care throughout my journey with cancer. I am so incredibly grateful, and I have learned from all of you how to better be there for others in need. Thank you for teaching me a fine way to be. I promise, I won't let you down.

So, it's onward and upward from here. I'm back leading meditation full time now and enjoying being in the company of my Circle of Friends I care for so dearly.

Life is good. It is indeed good. Don't waste a moment. I certainly don't plan to waste a single moment. I'm all clear, and one thing I've learned in walking this path is that it is all about balance.

Love, Tanya

Trey Franklin and Gifts!

I haven't posted in a while, and I apologize for that. I have been sick, sick, sick from the chemo, but -drum roll- it's over! I finished my last treatment two weeks ago Wednesday, and I'm so grateful to be finished with that part of it. Chemo can kick you where it hurts, but it's also a good kick in the direction of health. Here's hoping for a field goal! Scans will follow in a couple of weeks and there is great hope that everything is gone. I think everyone knows it's gone, but we have to be proactive. I appreciate my my Oncologist, Dr. Raefsky, and his care!

One of my bosses, Josh Denton, has a nephew named Trey. Trey was in a really horrible car accident a while back, and it's a miracle he's still alive. He was life-flighted to Vanderbilt from the scene of the accident and everyone immediately started praying for him. I am living testament to the power of prayer, so I knew that Trey would be lifted up at a time when he really needed it.

This morning I was reading an update on Trey which I'm going to post below. It made me cry. People are wonderful! It's all the support that gets us through tough times, and I know that I and Trey are so grateful for that human support.

Every problem has a gift for you in its hands, and Trey has been no exception to this fact. Please rejoice with me in Trey's progress by reading his mother's update below. It will make you feel good, and it will show you the power of love and support.

We may complain at times, we may at times feel that no one cares, but let me tell you -- people do care and sometimes it's people we don't even know who really step up to help out. This has been the case with me.

If you want to follow Trey's progress, you can do so here. In the meantime, please enjoy this wonderful post from Trey's mom and know, really know, that you have more support than you will ever realize, even from people you have never met.

Life is indeed grand. I celebrate this day and every day to follow. It's truly a gift! People are good at heart. Here's to you, Trey!

Trey's update:

What a wonderful day! God Is Great and his people are amazing.

Trey and I got up, ate breakfast, said our goodbyes and hit the road. Trey and I both felt it was bittersweet leaving. Everyone around us just tends to become family! Shepherd is an amazing place, and have an amazing staff! On our way home, Frank was wanting to know exactly where we were. So, I was texting every mile marker of the way.

When I got off at the Nortonville Exit, I found out why. The Nortonville Police pulls up right in front of me, blocks the road, gets out and asked if I'm Treys Mom. Then he spoke a few words to Trey and said he'd been ordered to give us a police escort into town.

As we drove into town there were HUGE signs saying Keep Dancing Trey. Then we pulled up over the Nortonville bridge and as we topped the bridge, it hit me to see how many people have been pulling for Trey. The street in front of the Nortonville Baptist church was lined, everyone cheering and holding signs, waving. Trey wanted to stop so, we did.

We pulled in and Trey got out to talk to his buddies. Everyone seemed thrilled to see him. Most had been to Vandy and saw him in the very first few days. Let me tell ya, he's came a long way!

Trey stayed and visited a short time, then he was ready to go. We loaded up and headed to Moppi's.

I'm completely overwhelmed with the support from our community. One of our favorite restaurants in Nortonville has had on their sign out front, "Pray for Trey" since the night of the wreck. Today the sign read, "Welcome Home Trey".

Thank you all so much for your support, I tell ya, it would have been tough going through this without you!

Keep those prayers going up and keep those dancing shoes on!

Much love, Many thanks!

Jill

One Year

Today marks the one year anniversary of my original diagnosis. Rectal cancer, Stage 3.

I went back to the beginning of this blog and was reading about all the things I was feeling at that time. One post in particular stood out to me - you can read that one here.

I have another week to go until my last treatment. From there it will be scans, one more colonoscopy to check for anything else still floating around, and then it's periodic check-ups to see how things are.

I hope you will take the time to read the old post above because it's exactly true to the way I feel about all of you ... in the now.

One thing I have learned, one gift I have received through this is that life really is an illusion. It's all about our perceptions and it's all about what we do with each moment. I knew it before, intellectually, but I really know it now.

In fact, I know it so well that I feel like a chubby old monk, sitting in orange robes upon a rock, laughing out loud at our perception of reality. The laughter gives me great joy and peace. That is a good feeling.

My heartfelt love to all, and a gratitude so deep that words cannot adequately express it.

You are all so special to me, and I thank you for sharing this journey with me. I could not have done it without you, and I realize more than anything else that we really are all connected, and that's good to know.

All my love and gratitude, Tanya

Tuck and Roll ... Or Tanya and the Blow Fish?

I apologize for having been away so long. The chemo effects have stopped any desire to write at this time, but I do compose blog posts in my head. Issue is that they don’t seem to make it to the computer! I’m just trying to get to the end of treatment, and that will be here before I know it.

Since the anniversary of my original diagnosis date is a mere 9 days away, and I find this very hard to believe, I thought before my 7th infusion, the next to last one, that I would write about steroids and the challenging truth of its effects.

When I first started the second round of chemo, they told me I would have some symptoms and that it was possible it would build in my system. I was fortunate to not get any of the really awful effects such as severe nausea, mouth sores, really chronic fatigue, etc. My eyesight has been affected, but this will go away.

It's the steroids - they have me so swollen that I feel as if I could tuck my chin in and roll anywhere in the city I desire to go! I’m not kidding. Every time they weigh me they say, “Don’t worry, honey – it’s the steroids and it will all fall off when you’re finished.” From their lips to God’s ear! They tell me this is really true and, if so, I can’t wait.

I know, though, that I’m lucky to be here ... to feel this way, because it means I can still feel, still be here.

So, even though this entry is short, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. I’m here, and I’m rolling along. Pun intended.

This past Wednesday I went for my fifth of eight treatments at Tennessee Oncology. You should check out their website - it is a wealth of information!

I remain amazed at the difference in this clinic and the last one. It's pretty near perfect at Tennessee Oncology. There is one, lone nurse here who is usually in a bad mood and bangs things around and ruins the atmosphere a little (there's always one!), but overall, the atmosphere is excellent and the care factor phenomenal! They truly care here, and it makes such a difference in the lives of their patients.

Wednesday's crew in the chemo lab proved to be a chatty and upbeat bunch, and there was some good conversation.

The gentleman sitting next to me was there for his last treatment. There was an air of excitement on his behalf in the lab!

As I sat reading my book, I noticed some activity coming from the nursing section of the lab. Lo and behold, I looked up and saw the nurses get in a line and start marching. They then marched directly into the chemo lab and up to the gentleman next to me -- singing at the top of their lungs -- John Philip Sousa's "Stars and Stripes Forever," the National March of the United States of America!

As they reached him, they congratulated him on his last treatment and handed him a blue heart (reminiscent of a purple heart used to honor military personnel) poster where they had all signed their names and wished him luck. Everyone in the chemo lab cheered and applauded.

I'd never seen such! And, I was glad to see it!

Once again I found myself wanting to rent a giant U-Haul, head over to the other clinic, load them up, and carry them to Tennessee Oncology.

Hat's off to a wonderful place, and the staff and their attitudes, overall, are stellar!

I'm so glad I switched! Please know there are always options in treatment. I couldn't be happier! In fact, that simple act, the care of those nurses, taking the time to honor this man in this way ... it made me cry. A happy cry. I'm grateful.