Lifted, By My Girls! — The Archives — Formerly Vented Uplift

Hi, I'm Dr. Kavita Jackson- ER doctor, 2020 breast cancer survivor, and Your Cancer Life Coach. From having spent time on both sides of the curtain, as a medical provider turned breast cancer patient, I have gained useful insight into the practice of patient advocacy. As a provider, I understand what it's like to best understand your patient's concerns and desires. As a patient, I also have experienced the challenges of trying to express myself effectively to my medical team. The ability to advocate for yourself, especially as a cancer patient, can be incredibly powerful in shaping your cancer experience. Often people don't realize that as a patient, you have an active and significant role in your medical care. Yet, we are never taught how to navigate the world of medicine from the patient's seat and, as a result, can feel overwhelmed and develop frustration and confusion regarding our diagnosis and treatments-- which is the last thing you need on top of dealing wit...

  There’s Always a First First date.  First love. First job. First promotion. First baby. First day of school. First new car. First day in the new home. Firsts. We can probably make a list of all the beautiful firsts in our lives longer than our arms.  But, not all firsts are exhilarating. Some firsts are scary and dreadful, like hearing the words you have cancer for the first time. Those words will bring you to your knees, and the feeling is crippling. I know. I remember that moment when I heard for the first time that I had breast cancer. It was 5:15, my feet were soaking in warm water at the nail salon, and we were leaving for Las Vegas the next morning.  No doctor ever calls after 5 pm. I was safe, or so I thought. It had been a week since I had the biopsy. No news was good news, right?  Not this time. Not for me. My phone rang, and Dr. Diehl was on the other end. “So, the results didn’t go our way.” Those words changed my life forever. “Your result returne...

Violent. Disruptive. Tumultuous. These are words used to describe storms. Both actual and metaphorical. When you hear the word STORM, what do you think? By definition, it ensues chaos. I bet you've never thought of JOY, though. Having the clarity of mind to choose joy during a storm brings freedom. Perhaps even purpose. Most will tell you to push through to the other side of the storm. What happens when you have to sit in it? Recently I walked out to my car to run errands. As I looked up, dark clouds were moving in. I thought to myself, oh wow, a storm is coming. I got in the car, and I saw a raindrop, and soon I was consumed. The rain poured droplets that reminded me of the size of rain in the movie "A Bug's Life." I sat in my car as it rocked and felt like it would be swept away. I watched garbage cans fall over and spill trash in the streets. The rain was heavy, and the wind was strong. There I sat in the car, watching the storm move and change the scenery. The rai...

  When I started my spiritual awakening in March of 2017, my world shifted instantly. I left a session with a spiritual healer knowing that I was on this Earth to heal myself and to heal others. How I would do that was for me to discover. This healing all started with turning back towards the Divine and allowing myself to heal the traumas that clouded my perspective and kept me from seeing the world from a place of Love instead of survival. Last year I had a moment of clarity in which an idea for a spiritual business came to mind. I wrote down those ideas, and later a name came to me: Twelve Moons Studio. I bought the website domains, securing the foundation of this seed of an idea with no intention to do anything with it quite yet. Not long after I purchased those website domains, my mom got sick, and I spent four months taking care of her. That seed of an idea was planted deep within the dirt without any chance of sunlight. Or, so I thought. November came, and it brought a new p...

  It better be the last FUCKING Chapter! Today is 3 weeks from my exchange surgery. 3 weeks since those horrible hard expanders with metal nipples came out. 3 weeks since the squishy girls went in. It's also 3 weeks of not lifting and learning to be taken care of again. 3 weeks of getting used to the increase in size that I questioned at first. 3 weeks of immense gratitude. 26 weeks from the mammogram that saved my life. 26 weeks from the first time I heard, "Mrs. Canny, I think you have DCIS". 26 weeks from the day I knew I had cancer. Exactly 1/2 a year of my life that has been centered around cancer. Exactly 1/2 a year that my family has worried about me. Exactly 1/2 a year of trying to turn lemons into lemonade!   ...

Ah, moms. You love em', you hate em', but no matter what you do, you eventually turn into them. I'm not saying this as a curse or death sentence. I am presenting this as a celebration. I lost my mom at the age of 25. She was 50, and the significance of me being exactly half her age does not elude me. My Beautiful Mom at age 25 She never met my husband, and she never met her grandson. I argued with the universe about what was fair and what I felt I deserved. Just so you know,  the universe never argues back. About four years ago, when my son was just a wee babe, strange occurrences kept happening. I began accidentally breaking every gift my mother had given me. They were all silly little things but full of magical memories. The toothbrush holder she made in pottery class, the glass sculpture she gave me when I graduated high school, planters, and jewelry all broke in my hands. I sat and sobbed over every shattered remnant. I cried ugly, dramatic, child tears. One time my son...