Jan Stewart Memorial Wellness Lecture - 2015

My resilience keynote to the Nurse Anesthesia Annual Conference on Sunday started with a story.  I sat next to a soldier on my flight to Salt Lake City, who after takeoff pulled out his phone and started watching a home video.  It included scenes of saying good-bye to his family, arriving in a war-torn land, settling into the barracks, and then short segments of missions. 

The mission segments included travel along dusty roads, setting up his sniper rifle, and a jumbled mission where things go bad.  For two hours, he played the video repeatedly, always shutting the phone when he got to the jumbled mission.  Finally, he put his phone away and just cried.    

I felt his pain and told my audience of nurse anesthetist they knew his pain, for as pilots of the OR, they also face unavoidable stress, and are forced to make instant decision that affect the lives of others.  Many of us face unavoidable stress and challenging journeys, but they are our journeys and our futures to energize.  Daily resilient practices serve as the fuel for our life energy.  

Birch Swinger

Our outdoor cat Sun Dance followed me out to my truck this morning, talking the whole way.  Yesterday I told him I had a short trip to Salt Lake City this weekend where I’d be teaching nurse anesthetists about Empowering Calm.  As he walked by my side, he kept telling me how much he wanted to go, just to get away for a little while.  One of my favorite Robert Frost’s poems is “Birches” which imagines a young boy riding his father’s trees over and over, with a swish and then kicking all the way back to the ground.  A shift occurs in the poem when the speaker expresses a yearning to leave the confusion of life for just a little while, and then return like a birch swinger.  Most days I am a good birch swinger and get away for just a little while through still moments - how about you?

Mindfulness and Love

My oncologist was running a little behind, so I rested my head on the back of the waiting room chair to relax, and immediately went to sleep.  My dreams took me to a Sunday many years ago, I had promised to be home for lunch, and was running a little late.  As I climbed out of my jeep, I saw her sitting at the bay window, waiting.  I went through the front door and knelt by her chair, “sorry mom”, she smiled and kissed my forehead and said, “Billy, I’m not going to get better, but I will always be here for you”.  We cried. 

I felt her soft touch, and woke to find my nurse coaxing me awake.  The lab results showed my cancer markers were slightly up, even though my bone and body scans really had not changed.  Without positive progress, my clinical trial requires I start drugs that are more toxic.  The research nurse and I had a good laugh for one potential side effect is my skin and hair will get a little yellowish, I told her I was going back to being a surfer boy.  Walking out, I remembered my mom’s words so many years ago and thought, I might not be getting any better, but I am still here and her love surrounds me.  Be mindful of the love that surrounds you today.       

Finished My Radiation – YES!

My favorite time of the day is when I first wake, and for just a few moments, I am straddling between the conscious and unconscious mind.  These are soft moments when memories mix, my passion for life is once again ignited, and my body is washed in warmth I don’t feel at any other time of the day.  Yesterday, I woke to memories of ringing the bell that hangs in the radiation oncology hallway.  In 1996, Rear Admiral Irve Le Moyne, a patient installed a brass bell for all patients to ring in celebration of finishing their radiation.  In my half-conscious dreams yesterday, I felt the ring and all its goodness before I heard it.  You see, our hearts possess a small brain that can sense, feel, learn and remember.  The hearts caring, compassion, and appreciation influences our brains and we feel good.  Today, listen to the whispers of your heart as you strive for heart-led living!

Rangers Lead the Way

I read with pride the stories about the first females to receive the Army Ranger tab, and memories swirled about receiving the tap over 40 years ago.    My Ranger class started with over 400 and less than 50% received the tab.  Many washed out the first few weeks unable to keep up physically.  By the second phase, the food and sleep deprivation started to take its toil through accidents and injuries.  The last phase was Florida, and I watched many cry as they were forced to quit due to foot rot, life threatening poison ivy, and snakebites. 

This morning I pulled out my original Ranger tab, still on the safety pin that had attached it to my uniform.  Earning the tab didn’t change who I was inside, but it clearly define my core strengths of perseverance, persistence, determination, confidence, and optimism.  Today, I will ring the bell in the radiation oncology hallway signifying completion of my 2^nd round of radiation, ending another trial in my cancer journey.  At the end of September, the Health Enhancement Research Organization will honor me with the Bill Whitmer Leadership Award for my years of teaching, speaking and publishing what I have learned along my 35 years in wellness.  As I look back, I realize how the Ranger tab has defined my approach to life and given me an awesome journey.  Thank you U.S. Army - “Rangers Lead the Way”!

HERO Leadership Award

One More Day

Sunday I woke early, sat on the glider, and waited for sunrise and the start of a new day.  Dark land mingled at the water’s edge, as trees of multiple shades of gray brushed against the sky.  Slowly the soft pink horizon spread across the glass like surface of the sleeping lake, and I became lost in the still moment.  The stillness was broken as I felt a fished jump and pink ripples move across the water like a smile.  Mornings have always been special, but my cancer journey has increased their specialness, as I feel graced with getting to share another day.  Today I woke and felt the same soft pink ripples as a smile slowly moved across my face – I have one more day of radiation.  Feel the soft pink ripples as we smile together all day. 

Night Jumps & Cancer Journeys

You can’t be afraid of what you can’t see – right?   The only noise is the steady hum of the helicopter, and jumping from a helicopter is so easy.  All you do is walk off the end, count to five and pray that you feel the pull of the static line.  One-step and you are nobody falling into nothing, and when you hit the ground, you wonder if you ever will have time to pray in this war……. 

Some days my cancer journey feels like my night jumps into the unknown, but then no one is shooting at me, and I realize I can do this and I can do it well, I have before, and I will again.  My resilience gets to the core of who I am.  You know the feeling – “be” that feeling today!