A big part of my confusion was the lack of warning. My annual mammogram showed visible clusters of tiny white specs, most likely cancer growing in situ. But where was the warning from my own intuition? I had no dreams with cancer symbolism, no inklings alerting me that something was amiss. As one who prided herself on a refined sense of mind-body intuition, I felt blindsided. My intuition had been my fallback position for decades. I relied on it as a single, working parent to know, in my gut, if my son, a latch-key child, had made it home from school and was safely inside the house. My intuition had been my guide when I left safe employment in the lucrative family business to pursue a riskier career in social work. I used my intuition to determine which house to purchase, how to end a bad marriage, and, later, how to find a much better one.

Once I became a psychotherapist, I refined my intuition by attending workshops on hypnosis, Neuro-Linguistic Programming, body psychotherapy, and energy therapy. Checking in with my sixth sense was, for me, primarily a mental exercise--one that I used daily until it became routine. I'd listen to my body as though it were a radio, with my mind twisting the dial, seeking a perceptible station. By filtering out the "white noise" of random thoughts and trying to lock onto an energetic signal, I could tune in to a body-based sense of knowing. I regularly tuned in during the day with a personal question or concern. I could also tune in during a therapeutic conversation with a client, which seemed to increase my ability to be more empathic and clear in my interpretations.

Throughout the months between the mammogram, multiple biopsies, diagnosis, and the actual surgery, when I had so many decisions to make about treatment, I set aside time each day to tune in and get information about my prognosis. I focused and asked my body: "Is it really cancer? Has it spread? Do I need surgery? How can I stay healthy? Talk to me!" I listened for answers or clues, but heard little coming back. Once in a while, a deep, subtle voice inside said: "Don't worry, it's nothing." But this was the wrong answer, as test after test confirmed. My intuition, so reliable for so long, was suddenly no longer trustworthy.

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