Surgery today+vote for HBP documentary

This is a quick note to say today is the day I have hysterectomy surgery to remove the cancerous mass growing inside me (or my self-grown anti-patriarchy sculpture, as I like to call it).

My mantra: my excellent doctors and nurses are the peak of their competence and surgery is going to go sooooo smoothly.

I have a very good feeling about it. (Timing-wise, I think it will happen about 1 pm Victoria time).

Also, I've been working with director Robyn Thomas on a documentary about the Human Body Project. We started pre-cancer and are continuing through this cancer story.

The name of the project is Visceral.

She has entered it into the Storyhive funding site.

To help us out, ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS VOTE! Please consider voting for our project, you can vote online every day until November 9. 

Here's the link: http://www.storyhive.com/project/show/id/825

Poster designed by Craig Nicholas.

Stage 4 Cancer: my human body project/the Human Body Project

In my last blog post I was very ill. I had to cancel my show at the Victoria Fringe and put Vulnerability Vigils on hold.

It turns out I have Stage 4 gynecological cancer. This is not a great cancer to have. Prognosis is 30-50% alive in 5 years. I do plan to be in this number, however.

I have a large cancerous mass growing in what doctors assume is my ovary, but they're actually not certain. This kind of cancer is an "invisible cancer," one that escapes detection until the person is ill. Mine was found because my GP ordered an ultrasound after I showed up so sick in her office.

I was in hospital from August 27 until September 25. My first couple of weeks were traumatic. I was extremely ill with fluids accumulating in my chest and abdomen and I had a parasite on top of this. I dealt with extreme, unceasing nausea. I was so ill, I couldn't stand to be touched except handholding. I was so ill, I could see it in the terrified looks on my family's and friends' faces. I was so ill, I said to my husband: "I can't even miss you guys."

My situation was one they call "complicated," without protocols. I could see my very competent, very kind doctor wrestling with how to handle me medically. I am extremely grateful to him and to all the incredibly dedicated caregivers in Women's Health at Victoria General Hospital. I have such faith now in this doctor, who will be part of my surgical team to get my mass removed, because I feel he made really difficult but the best decisions while caring for me during this time.

After "getting stabilized," I was transferred to Royal Jubilee's oncology floor to begin treatments for the cancer. It took two more weeks for me to be well enough to leave hospital. Again, the care I received was, on the whole, stellar. 

I am beyond grateful to our health care system.

It's difficult to recall details. I have been on a "dose-dense" chemotherapy program. I definitely have the side effect of "chemo brain," e.g., very fuzzy-headed, slower reaction time, can't get jokes! And, because of drugs and discomfort, I have also been very sleep-deprived.

I needed people to wipe my bum. I had two blood transfusions (thank you thank you blood donors). I have had about 15 thoracenteses/paracenteses. These are scary. Fluid that would kill me accumulates in my chest and abdomen. It was the fluid accumulating (and the blessed but sickening parasite) that alerted me to the cancer. To get rid of the fluid is pretty intense. I am "stabbed" and a straw is inserted into the space in my body where the fluid is. Then a a line to a bag is attached and I drain. The last two times this happened (it continues since I've been out of hospital) more than 2 litres of fluid came out each time. Ew!!

I shaved my head to pre-empt chemo shedding.

These last two times came from my chest, which is a more dangerous place to poke (lungs and all nearby!) but the radiology doctors have been as kind and competent as almost everyone I've encountered in the health care system. Only once in these times the straw must have twisted and didn't drain. A repoke was required.

These poke'n'drains are one of the most difficult things for me. But they have also saved my life several times over. I have one scheduled (thoracentesis=chest) tomorrow. Ugh.

I also struggle with bloodwork pokes (usually only once a week now but at least once a day in hospital) and my IV being put in for chemotherapy (once a week). I really struggle with pokes. For the thoracentesis or paracentesis, I use pain and anxiety drugs. For blood and IV, I have gotten pretty good at knowing what works and giving instructions but it's still a source of pain and anxiety.

My chemotherapy side effects include neuropathy (numbness and discomfort in hands and feet), the fuzzy brain, joint aches, and severe energy dips.

At this point I can't drive; I can't prepare for a class I was going to teach so had to let it go; I can't really do much around the house; I'm only able to read in brief bursts; I can sometimes take short walks. I need a lot of quiet, solitude and rest. I am VERY LUCKY that I have the support that I am able to do this.

This is the first time I've been on the computer since I got ill. I have been sharing on Twitter (@HumanBodyProj) and Facebook (on my personal and Human Body Project page). But I felt unable, until today, to go beyond short posts and my iPhone.

I am also VERY LUCKY that I do not experience nausea. In fact, I have an excellent appetite and any of you supporters out there who want to donate food, I encourage you to do so!! Anything! Variety is a gift!

Hmm. This ended up being a post about the more physical details.

Spiritually, I have been deeply blessed by this cancer. I've written about his in my posts on Twitter and Facebook. Adrian Chamberlain wrote a piece about me in the Victoria Times Colonist. 

Loneliness and depression is something that was such a deep and painful part of my pre-cancer life. Doing the Human Body Project in the way I was holding that super-serious piece has been a burden and also separated me. Somehow through this transformative cancer I have been able to receive love in ways I was unable to before. 

The Human Body Project is this!! Cancer is part of my human body project/the Human Body Project. 

The Human Body Project has always been about two main things:
1) me working with my disconnection... from self, community, love...
2) how my process intersects with "the culture" or, maybe a better word is "the community"

How has this particular part of HBP process intersected with "the culture"/"the community"? It's brought out an outpouring of love from everyone around me. Just an outpouring. That love, yes, it's "inspired" by my process. But it's not "zero-sum," i.e., the love is not just "for" me but envelops, feeds, gives to all who feel it.

I'm not sure what the Human Body Project as performance and activism will look like when I'm better, but I'm definitely going to have more fun. Part of what I've let go is my need to hold such seriousness alone.

Love, Tasha

ps Some kind people have put together a fundraising effort for my family and I: https://www.youcaring.com/tasha-diamant-444984

Tasha, Naked Moderator

I seem to finally be rising out of a deep dip into sickness since the event over two weeks ago. I haven't thought much about the event. Just kind of surviving at being a mom and being thankful that my husband picks up a lot of the slack and doesn't mind frozen shit for dinner.

I wanted to write more about the last event but it's kind of not fresh in my mind now. Two words that people either spoke or wrote interest me. Purity. Spontaneity. Both of these concepts matter a lot to me. During the event I was happy to hear from Megan that she felt she had experienced purity. I realize that I need and want these higher, deeper feelings and that it's difficult to experience them in the dumbed-down consumerism water that we swim in. Here's an analogy. Lethbridge. Got a lot going for it but not a pretty place (besides the natural beauty of the coulees and river valley--thank God for something!). The architecture is ugly, the mostly new housing developments are ugly, the downtown is ugly, big box store-land is ugly. It's western North America. Built for cars, commercialization, function, economies of scale and lack of imagination. Regulated ugliness. And with the world's ugliest university! But, hey, some people think Arthur Erickson is a genius.

Everybody is used to ugly and most people don't even notice that they're missing something: beauty.

Or good food. I am always amazed that my students will reveal that they have never tasted eggplant or black olives or cilantro or frickin real cheddar cheese. Yet they will tell you that Moxie's is the best restaurant in town (sadly, it is up there). I know I probably sound like a snob, but it's depressing to me that people aren't aware of good food. I need beauty. I need delicious food. I need purity and spontaneity. But the world isn't set up for that. By purity, I mean something like real connection, real emotion. And by spontaneity, I mean just letting things happen.

I teach public speaking at the college. I love it. One thing I often say to my husband is that during my class I get to create the world the way I want it. It's not that hard. We make some agreements. We agree that we're allowed to disagree. We agree to listen to each other. We agree to support each other. We agree not to trash talk. We agree to use constructive criticism.

Everybody gets a lot of standing ovations including me. Even though I basically make them do it, I love my standing ovations. We have a lot of fun and everyone improves. The group gets really tight. I teach it like a workshop so I hardly lecture; we discuss speeches in the moment. Spontaneity and connection--it's a joy for me and for the students.

I realized that the last Human Body Project event felt like a space and time where I got to create another environment that allowed me and the people who were there to more fully and deeply experience our humanity. Not everyone necessarily is missing that or requiring that; but many of us are and we have nowhere to go. Some people are able to choose religion but, for me and many others, the dogma (and trash talk) of religion is off-putting.

During the last event I recall myself talking more than I probably needed to. But I enjoyed much of the discussion that went on. It felt thoughtful and sincere. I was really moved by the women joining me--they made their decisions in the moment. I was moved by the humanity of the men present. There was a lot of connection, spontaneity, openness, authenticity. It makes me see how much I yearn for this in my life.

One woman wrote that she wonders how something like this can continue to be spontaneous. I do wonder that myself. When I worked at Kripalu Center in Massachusetts, I was amazed at how easy it was for me to teach experiential workshops. I have a real ability to let things happen. I get in my way sometimes too (like talking too much at the last event). But as I used to tell my creativity classes to chant: I'm allowed to fuck up. I think if I can dream up a way to make HBP into some kind of ongoing thing, I'll just have to trust my facilitator skills.

I'm running out of steam here. Not sure how coherent this is.

HBP 2: A Surprise Success

Funnily enough, my husband and I were having lunch yesterday before the event and talking about what we learned growing up in each of our families. His family's motto might have been: ALWAYS BE SAFE!!!!! And mine would have been: YOU MUST BE SUCCESSFUL!!!!!

Success in my family back then meant money and status, big house, nice car, good grades, fancy degree, etc.--measurable and obvious. By these standards, last night's Human Body Project event was not a success. Besides two reporters and the ten people who were helping me, only nine other people showed up (ten if you include an infant).

Odd and surprising. For the first event I was pretty convinced no one would come. For this one, I was freaking out that there would be a crowd scene because so many people had told me they were coming and bringing friends. As I said last night, I was spared that particular freak-out.

Besides dealing with being naked, one of the things that I experienced intensely at both events is a sense of responsibility for the experience the audience is having. I'm pretty sure I've written about my over-responsibility issues somewhere in these blogs. I'm female and the eldest child and I think it goes with the territory. But how useless a burden it is.

At the first event I suppose I had the overwhelming nature of the event--more than 70 people; my first time standing naked; strong group energy--to carry me beyond that worry. But for this one, here I am in what looks like a large, empty room when only 20 or so people are in it (including the two reporters who travelled especially from Calgary) and I'm trying to think, how do I salvage this for them all? YOU MUST BE SUCCESSUL IN A MEASURABLE AND OBVIOUS WAY!!!!!

Success=large numbers of people having an intense experience.

In my real life, I would try to make people feel at ease and I would chat. Sometimes I catch myself at this and think--what the fuck? Why do I think it is my frickin job to make the world feel at ease? Ironic, hey? Since my project is about discomfort and all.

Last night a voice kept coming to me: just be here. I know, I know, you've heard it before. But the phrase helped me. I let myself move past wondering how to fix the experience for those who were there. At the first event, it felt important to connect with the people in the audience. I made a lot of eye contact and eventually went around the room and got close to people. Last night, that didn't seem like what needed to happen. As I let go of feeling responsible for the audience's experience I was able to have a very deep experience myself.

I felt unbelievably grounded and strong, like a tree rooted to the earth. I have never felt that strong and still. As a yoga practitioner I have made intentions to connect with that feeling of groundedness but last night's feeling was so available. I also felt a lovely connection to the being growing inside me, something I have rarely been able to feel during this pregnancy of perpetual poisoning. It was a deeply peaceful experience for me when I could have made it a stressful one.

To me, this is real success! I experienced a form of self-love! I did that!

I'll admit that afterward I said to my husband: maybe the Human Body Project is just about (expensive) therapy for me. Last night sure seemed like that. (But some of my helpers said they also felt peaceful. I haven't looked at comments from other audience members yet. But probably not everyone thinks the way I was trained: YOU MUST BE SUCCESSUL IN A MEASURABLE AND OBVIOUS WAY!!!!!)

One of the things I love about these events is that no one knows what's going to happen. While only nine paying customers may seem like a bust, I just don't see it that way. I think it would have been really hard on me if the crowd I was expecting showed up. After last night I actually feel far more able to handle a crowd if I do ever get one.

I still have faith in the project. Yes, it's therapy for me. I also believe it will reach people as it needs to. I'm not sure what kind of experience people had last night and I'm not sure what kind of experience they were looking for and, I realize, how can I ever know those things or be responsible for them anyway? For those who were there last night, I thank you again for the experience I had.

What is this blog?/Healing update

I'm the kind of person who often needs to think out loud. This blog is a place where I am doing something like that.

Once I heard Ruby Dee describe Spike Lee as someone who was growing up out loud. For better or worse, I am doing the same thing. In one of Maragaret Cho's comedy videos she talks about the phrase "don't go there." I've often thought about that same phrase and thought the exact same thing she talks about, what do you do when you're already "there?" Don't go there? Sorry, I'm in it past my eyeballs, a bit too late for that little piece of advice.

I am a messed up person. I don't find it necessary to keep this a secret. Pretty much every person I've ever met also appears messed up in one way or another. Every once in a while I'll meet someone who seems to really know how to care for her/himself, but that is a rare occurrence. Not messed up looks like this: a person at peace with her/himself. Name any people you know who fall into this category. If you actually know any, I bet they are more attractive than Jessica Simpson.

What I'm saying makes a lot of people uncomfortable. I make a lot of people uncomfortable. I put people on the spot. Not everyone is "there" or interested in "going there." I get that. Sometimes I am irritated by it, sometimes I'm not so bothered. But, for myself, there is no going back. Whether I like it or not, I am the queen of noticers. I'm always noticing how uncomfortable I am (see, I make myself uncomfortable too). I'm always trying to figure out what the discomfort is about. And, while I often find other people's messed up shit a good place to lay the blame, in the end my discomfort is always teaching me about my own messed-upness.

So this blog is a place where I plod along and write about plodding along in this process of discovery--a seemingly endless and continual process. I should add a crucial point: each time that I gain awareness of new depths of my mess, I shed some of it. There is a purpose to what I'm sure many people would term my navel gazing:
-I believe we have been granted a great gift in being alive
-For many years I hated being alive
-I now love my life
-I believe we can live lives of joy
-I want one

What I am doing in my life, in my art, in my relationships, is the only way for me to create a life of joy. In the last few months, particularly since the first Human Body Project event, I have gone through many changes, more than I've been able to write about in this blog. But one profound one has been a stronger feeling of physical health. I have had a much stronger experience in my own body of how old worn-out beliefs affect my health (and this has led me to be able to shed some of them).

This process of the relationship of physical health to deeply held beliefs is a difficult one to write about for several reasons, one being that it is not something I can explain in a linear, intellectual way. Another issue being that our harmful beliefs often originate in our families and I doubt mine is interested in me writing about how I deal with them in therapy. Another is the idea of blaming the victim. I will only speak for myself and say that lately I better understand how my energy has been very adversely affected by ingrained beliefs about how I thought I was supposed to be. I will try to expand more on this later.

Another reason I'm writing this blog is for the same reason I'm doing the Human Body Project. There are other people out there who also want to get beyond their messed up shit and feel a joyous connection to their physical existence. This is my way of reaching out. It may ramble and I probably repeat myself, some days are going to be better than others... it is what it is.