Kim Holman's Journey

I’m learning there are times in life to simply “be.” Be at rest. Be still. Be present. If you’ve been following along on this journey, you know I’ve been finding rhythms in life. These past three months, I’ve been learning the rhythm of peace.

I’m so grateful to share that I remain stable. My cancer marker score continues to hold steady, and my scans show no signs of new cancer growth (though I really don’t love how radiologists phrase it — “grossly similar extensive osseous metastatic disease” just doesn’t have the same ring as “stable condition”!). My overall bloodwork is improving slightly, too. I’m deeply grateful for my oncologist, Trish Millard, MD, and my pathologist, John Gildea, PhD, for the excellent care that keeps me here to write these updates.

But this quarter, I want to tell you about the piece of my care that doesn’t show up on a lab report — the healing I’ve experienced this past year thanks to Sarah Larsen, MEd, LPC, LPCC. I believe it’s a major reason I’m still stable, and I think it’s worth every one of you hearing.

Prior to cancer, I would have told you I was “fine.” Everything was “good.” When I first read Radical Remission, I didn’t recognize any suppressed emotions in myself at all. Then, in an early conversation, a friend asked me what in my life was causing me the most stress. We were both surprised by how quickly and definitively I answered — I just didn’t know what to do about it. Something was brewing beneath the surface, and I hadn’t let myself feel it.

Last August, I realized I couldn’t keep living the way I had been. A drastic change was needed. That’s when I found Sarah. I didn’t have the words, or even the ability, to express what I was feeling. Patiently, she met me where I was, leaning into my love of reading and having me work through books like Make Sense of Your Story, Why Emotions Matter, and Healing What’s Within. September and October were especially painful, as I grieved losses I hadn’t let myself grieve. Through EMDR, I was able to revisit painful memories without still feeling the trauma they once carried. Now, I feel a true sense of joy. More than that, I’ve learned how to calm my inner self — how to sit alone, in silence, and simply enjoy the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Releasing suppressed emotions is just one of the ten healing factors identified by the Radical Remission Project, and this holistic framework has given real shape to my healing during this eighteen month journey. I have no doubt the emotional growth I’ve experienced has contributed significantly to my stability.

So, what have I been doing these past three months? Glen and I spent a week in Florida. Over the Fourth of July, Ben, Georgia, Kristen, and I hiked three days between two of the New Hampshire high mountain huts — the scenery was stunning, and staying in the huts gave us a wonderful communal feel, sharing breakfasts and dinners with other hikers along the way. On our final day, I was fourth in line coming down a rocky path, enjoying every moment, when the three ahead of me stopped without my noticing until it was too late. I spun 180 degrees and fell straight onto my back, headfirst down the path — like a turtle stuck on its shell! Once they helped me up, I assured everyone I was fine. I figured I’d sprained my arm — nothing serious.

Fast-forward sixteen days to a previously scheduled orthopedic appointment for trigger fingers on my other hand. I mentioned the sprain and asked for suggestions. They x-rayed it on the spot and told me it was actually broken, splinting me for four weeks and encouraging me to pay closer attention to pain (I have a very high pain tolerance, for better or worse). Two days later, I called to ask about a pain in my back I’d noticed getting worse. Since the injury was already over two weeks old, the earliest they could see me was October. My oncologist referred me to physical therapy, which I won’t start until the end of September. Scans confirmed nothing is broken — it’s just an annoyance most days, but every now and then it reminds me it’s there. With the gym off the table for a while, I’ve had extra time to listen — to my own heart, and for God’s voice.

I’m so grateful I got to hike and spend time with all three of my children and my grandson in August. Time with family is the truest quality time I know. Liz and Calum came for a few days, and it was so good to see them.

This quarter, I’m thankful for stillness. And I’ll say this to anyone reading: whatever emotions you may be suppressing, please address them before they find another way to get your attention.