Category: cancer

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Nope, You Ain’t Got This

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I can’t remember who’s social media page I saw it on, so I can’t give proper credit, but this paraphrased sentence shook me to my core.

“Never Tell A Person, ‘you got this’ when they ask for help because obviously they don’t or they wouldn’t be talking to you.“

I know it is something I have said thinking I was be encouraging, but could my pat on the back have seemed dismissive? Did I trivialize a pain that was greater for you than I feel in myself or for myself? Could you have needed a soft place to land and I simply elevated you to somewhere higher to fall from?

I think back to when I was at the height of my cancer battle. Folks would say “oh you got this” or “you are so strong.” In actuality, I was screaming on the inside, needing a shoulder to cry on and desperate for an old school laying on of oil anointed hands. When all my treatments were over, I politely smiled when asked if I was good now. I really should have loudly voiced, “oh heck no, I’m fighting extreme depression, I feel like I’m going crazy, please don’t abandon me.”

Ooooooo forgive me, I did mean well and I oft see past today and into your future. I still envision great things on the horizon. But at the time you need a Word, I will now tell you God got you and let’s see how we can walk through this.

There may be nothing I can do in the natural but be a voice in the darkness or a bit of sunshine clearing shadowing places. Truly, that may be all you need. Or I can point you to some resources beyond me. In wisdom, we will talk to the Father first about what is best for you.

Now bear with me, it may take me awhile to shake that cheerful cliché. But for today, I pray that whatever is disturbing your mind, your heart or your body be washed in the Presence of the Almighty. That you be hugged by the best comforting of the Holy Spirit. That the provision, healing, and freedom purchased by Christ at Calvary be revealed and afforded to you. That every wound be mended and every resource for a Balm in Gilead soothe every where you hurt.

I pray that today you see that God got this and God got you. And that you are never far from one willing to walk it through with you.

Love ya – Chelle

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I Love Her And You

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Though this is the last day of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, the fight for “Pink To Just Be A Color & Not A Diagnosis ” continues. As exhausting as this month has been running everywhere being #rudeaboutboobs, having women along the way promise to get that overdue #smashagrams has been worth it. Even had a lady almost 20 years overdue with a high family history, bite the bullet and be overjoyed that fear turned into a clean report. This month was about You, Your Loved Ones and keeping alive the ones who hold the family together. Today’s Pink is dedicated to Me. Not ego tripping. Just loving on the girl I almost lost and the Warrior she has become.

#breastcancersurvivor #breastcancerawareness #rudeaboutboobs

Am I A Magician?

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Yesterday, I had an elderly woman who had been raising her son alone for 42 years call seeking to place a help wanted ad. Her son is extreme on the spectrum, non-verbal, rigid and combative. She was desperately in need of help but kept saying nobody will want this job. Her husband had even left her 30 years ago when she would not institutionalize the son. I let her talk and took notes as I went.

After she composed herself, she apologized and I let her know that no apologies were necessary. I then proceeded to read to her the ad copy I crafted while I had been listening. She was surprised and asked me how I could possibly read her mind like that. ” Was I a magician?”

After my chuckle, I explained to her that though my situation is not as extreme as hers, I have two special needs adult sons in my home and I have understood the challenges, the fears, the isolations, but also the hopes, loves and joys.

We went on to talk about an hour for what should have taken 5 minutes. But I knew this customer was going to be the most important one of the day. As, we finally got to the conclusion, she tells me that her son gives her one bright spot everyday, he refuses to go to bed without giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek. She then told me that God had sent me to be her extra bright spot for the day.

It took me an extra 5 minutes after we hung up to pull myself together. She has no clue that God sent her to remind me that I am more than just a worker bee or a hamster on a wheel. I needed to know at that very moment that I have purpose beyond the bottom line.

Erase Not

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Virginia’s quest to erase the enslavement of human beings from memory will not make it cease to have existed. I don’t teach this to my children and to their children to foster hatred but rather to show them how incredible our people are to have survived and thrived despite circumstances forced on our ancestors by american greed. Yet no one asks my Jewish brothers to forget and water down the Holocaust. No one asks the american Japanese to deny the California concentration camps. No one asks my Indian heritage to dry the Trail of Tears.

We are watered down because whenever we choose to remember we become powerful. An attempt to drown us in engineered miseducation. Reminiscent of our bloodlines drowned in the Atlantic for being too strong to make passage.

Fearful folks discriminate and suppress what and whom they are intimidated by most. Black History Month is about strength and success against incredible odds. Slavery is american history dripping in greed, oppression and supposed superiority. No need to sugar coat it or pad it with cotton. My ancestors cultivated both of those.

Oddly, the State of Virginia worried about a recent governor in “black face.” Need to be more worried about the one who has no problem showing who he really is.

In This, My 54th Year.

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Once again I want to thank you, my heartbeats, for all the love shown this week. My 54th year started off a wee bit strange with major changes professionally and personally. Made my knees shake but my faith ain’t fake. No worries babies. God is in the details.

I have come to realize that I am a full year older than my mother was when she died and God has brought me back from more near misses than I can recount here. I owe it to her, to God and to myself to make this year count!!

Pulling back a wee bit so I can move forward. Choosing the fast God chose for me and using this time to straightened my crown.

ALL MY LOVE, MICHELLE


#MystoryGod’sGlory

No Fruit Cake, Please

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Reflecting on yesterday’s Christmas blessings.

My husband’s latest scans came back clean. Whew just in time to put a little Christmas cheer back.

My “partner in crime” cousin’s suspected breast cancer turned out to be nothing. I think she is happy I bug folks about smash-a-grams.

The Lord put me in the path of a young man who needed a Christian stranger to look past color, gender and class to “read his mail”. He thought he had hit a psychic reading which gave an inroad to talk about WHO a word of knowledge really comes from.

Then an unexpected last minute dessert order that I really didn’t know how to charge for, helped pay for 6 new sets of thermals for donation to Blessing Warriors RVA Inc. .

All I need now is for no one to offer me fruit cake and this will be the best Christmas ever.

Merry Christmas Everyone

With Love and Penmanship – Michelle

Bloom Again

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YOUR LESSON FOR TODAY.
A few days ago I was going to toss it because the other early blooms had died and it was looking rough. But I choose to cut away the dead parts and sure up the soil for what looked like one last shoot.  I tied her to a bamboo stick for support.  And within days this happens!!!

So take note, no matter what life looks like you will bloom again.  Just remember:
1. Let Go of the dead habits and toxic folks along for the ride.
2. Check your roots and use some self care to fertilize your path
3. Tie yourself to a good support system Faith – Family – Good Friends and pro counseling!

 -In Loving Memory of Edelmira Brown. November 1969 – October 2022






			





			
				


	

		
Rude About Boobs 2022

				

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Today I practice what I preach. Checking in at 7:15 a.m. for my repeat 3D Smash-a-gram.  Its 3 a.m. now and while I should be sleeping, I am up thinking about the ridiculously pink outfit I will wear today. My attempt to warn every woman I walk past today to not to let this happen to them. 

It hits different once you have  had BC knock on your door. You don’t complain about the discomfort as much. You are not as shy about being half naked in front of strangers.  You accept the fact that yours takes longer and costs more than a regular test.  You understand that you will not be allowed to leave until several people “read” you.  You hold your breath and try to be tough while you wait for the nurse to come back with a “thumbs up.” 

Yes, I’m still at it. Being rude and talking about boobs!  LOL. But I forfeit my right to be private in order to save lives.  I lost 4 years of my “normal life”. I know others that lost all of theirs . An hour once a year…every year just may give you yours back!!!!!!

#rudeaboutboobs #singchelle #breastcancersurvivor  #breastcancerawareness


			





			
				


	

		
#rudeaboutboobs

				

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On this last day of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I just want to remind you that it is not just about one month but about one life, one family, one community, and one world at a time.





 I still believe there is a cure out there but in the meantime there are things you can do to help yourself and your loved ones fight against a disease that robs so many families of the caregivers. Early detection is key. Get them Smash-A-Grams, do your monthly feels, and have honest conversations with your doctor.





 Love each other enough to be #rudeaboutboobs .







			





			
				


	

		
ESCAPED – February 12, 2021

				

			Posted in cancer, God, inspiration, love, relationships, selfhelp, Uncategorized1 Comment		

			


	
	

		

They call it domestic
But the concept is still foreign to me.
How does someone claim to love you then proceed to love you to death?





To the woman of whom the reporters described as “Henrico , East End, House a bloody crime scene, neighbors called police on a regular ” .





I shall mourn for you and your life cut short. I will not allow you to be victimized or blamed for the sins of an eager lover.





In my mind, you fought back but just were not strong enough. You were a warrior weary on the battle. Backed into a corner, you escaped your bruised soul and murdered body.





If his love is called domestic then your exit can be called an escape.





I regret not knowing you before the stories. I would have shared mine so we could have walked out together.