Tag Archives: scars

JAMIE’S BLOG – YEAR 9 scars – 21 days to go

10 Dec


There are 21 days left of The Promise 365! 

If there is one thing I have learned from this lesson of blogging, it is this: wait for the end of the story. Each year I have made a promise and set a series of events into motion. Each year, I have been surprised. This year may have been the biggest one yet. I didn’t plan to end this blog this year, in fact, I thought I would go for a nice round number of 10 years. But then my friend Amy pointed out that nine is a completion year in some belief systems.

It struck a nerve. I knew it was the answer to this year of TRUST. So I am trusting that this is the completion year of The Promise 365.

Just as I had to trust the lessons of years before, even though there have been many surprises. Like the year I promised Peak Performance and ended up having a double masectomy. The surprise for me wasn’t just the surgery, it was also the scars it left behind. The two perfect Nike swooshes that now adorn the surgical scars right across my breasts.

It was a surprise of peak performance, one that will lead to a life of peak performance and for that I am grateful. I am also grateful for scars and surprises. Sometimes they are the best gifts you never could have imagined for yourself (trust me on that one!). 

Each season has a reason and a purpose and a lesson. You just have to look for it!
Trust me!
More tomorrow.Jamie


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JAMIE’S BLOG – DAY 332 :: tragedy to triumph

1 Dec

It’s December.

The year is wrapping up right before my eyes.  It’s hard to believe isn’t it? Just one more month of 2014 before us, a lifetime behind us. The dates on the calendar are being swept away and flying into the wind of yesterday.

In these next thirty days, I will be forming and contemplating my next promise. While at the same time I am reflecting back on what this year has brought with it. It has been one of tragedy and triumph.  Unexpected joy, unbelievable pain, unsurpassed love.

And that is the story of life.

As I tote around my new silicone set (and try not to fry them in the sauna) I am amazed at: 

  • how fast scars heal 
  • how small a DD cup actually feels! 
  • the power of intentional intention 
  • the wide, wide range of peak performance 

Peak performance has not been what I thought it would be. In true promise form, what I THOUGHT would happen this year is not really what the universe had in store.

Upon first entering my OB’s office this February, I thought I met my first potential friend in this town we moved across the country to call home. After she found the lump in my breast she sent me on the wild goose chase which landed me with fake boobs and a bucket full of gratitude for an early diagnosis.

Tonight, as I opened the door to the gym, I recognized the woman standing behind me.

“I know you!” I blurted out of surprise.  I was shocked that I actually ran into someone I recognized!  My doctor of all people! My OB that I haven’t seen in months. The first woman in this town that I thought could be called ‘friend.’

She seemed unfazed and gave me a look I read as: I don’t remember you but I’m going to be really nice anyway.

And she was nice. But as we walked down the hall to the locker room I could feel that she just wanted to escape the six foot stranger making small talk. As a doctor, I’m sure she runs into the many sets of boobs she sees in her office all over town. Part of me wanted to hug her and thank her for that early diagnosis. Part of me wanted to rip off my shirt and show her my new girls. Part of me was so embarrassed I wanted to make a beeline to the pool even though no bathing did I have on my body.

As we entered the locker room, she went right and I went left. As I sat down on the bench I had an overwhelming sensation that this too was a special sort of blessing. The kind that shows up to remind you that it’s really good news when you doctor doesn’t remember your name.

It was the triumphant sense that you have officially closed the chapter of this book.
And, that, to me, feels like the best way to begin wrapping up this year.
From tragedy to triumph. 

More tomorrow. 


 {what are your triumphs from this year?}

2014 BLOG – DAY 30 :: age: turning back the clock

30 Jan

I just celebrated my birthday. 

I did not want to remove the tiara that my friends placed upon my head. I wore it all night. I wore it the next day. I wore it out to dinner the next night. I almost wore it on the plane ride home to Portland. (I decided to pack it instead.)

Point is …it made me feel special. And beautiful. And young like a princess.

This birthday has me thinking about age. Ironically, tonight at our gym there was a presentation on anti-aging treatments. On how to turn back the clock.

In a sea of Botox and injectables I had a moment of appreciating my wrinkles. And those of everyone else around me too. While I spend too much time worried about the dark spots and fine lines making themselves known in the mirror, it occurred to me that all the women around me looked beautiful. And I couldn’t see a thing that was “wrong” with them.

Among all the options for lasers, Botox, creams, injectables, erasables, cover uppers, I decided no matter what, there is one thing I always want to keep.

My scars.
Because, no matter the birthday, there are some things I don’t want to hide.

(Oh, yes, my tiara too!)

More tomorrow.
Lovemore {fearless}

{what do you want to keep?}

2014 BLOG – DAY 24 thyroid scars unite!

24 Jan

The power of sharing. 

Tonight I realized that sometimes peak performance comes down to realizing you can do it — because others have done it before.

Sometimes the confidence it takes to perform comes down to knowing there are others who totally understand where you’ve been, what you are going through, and share what the road ahead looks like.

I had a glimpse of that tonight in Portland. We painted a mural in honor of thyroid awareness. But it was more like painting a picture of that “road ahead” for me.

It was a reunion with my fabulous surgeon, Dr. Mira Milas!
It was an amazing event with Joni from Bottle & Bottega Portland!
And it was an introduction to another thyroid patient and survivor Katee Sackhoff.

The night consisted of comparing and showing off our scars:


Making a small contribution:

And seeing the big picture come toghether:

Here’s the most important lesson for me — recognizing all the beautiful, amazing, incredible pieces it takes to make up the whole.

And getting a little boost from someone who has been in this game a little longer than I have.
There’s hope in that.
Seeing is believing.

More tomorrow.
Lovemore {fearless}

{what gives you hope?}

BLOG – GIFT DAY 291 :: before and after

18 Oct

In keeping with my promise to seek abundance, here’s my Abundance Photo of the Day… my scar!

(before and after)

The top photo is my scar one week after thyroid surgery and the bottom photo is from today. Eight weeks later.

Before and after.
Then and now.

At first the scar looked like a pair of lips smiling up to the sky. I thought that was pretty symbolic given the benign diagnosis and my complete and utter sigh of relief.

Where the skin was all puckered up, swollen and red, it now looks like a line across my throat.

Most days I forget that it’s there.
And that’s abundance if you ask me.

More tomorrow.
Lovemore {fearless}

{how do you feel abundant?}

GIFT DAY 063: do you love your scars?

4 Mar

I have an abundance of scars.

Like the scar that runs down the center of my belly and the scars on both of my knees. There are scars on my hand and calf too.

They each have a story.
All lessons in courage, strength and faith.

The scar on my belly came from a cancer diagnosis. It taught me abut healing and gave me faith in life. I used to pull my shirt up and share my belly scar with strangers. I was so proud of it, as if it were bragging rights.

The scars on my knees came from a sand volleyball court. They remind me to go after my dreams and take a leap even if it means digging in deep.

The scars on my hands taught me all about puppy love. And, the scar on my calf, well …it taught me about how to avoid the kind of dogs who bite.

Justin is working on a new scar.
scars, justin, jamie eslinger, thepromisedaily.com, thepromise365.com

The initial wound came from an unfortunate bounce from that pink buoy that washed ashore the other day. It bounced right up and hit him in the eye.

Who knew that those things have hard handles that attack?

(Good thing we have a few Keep Calm and Carry On bandages in stock!)

His eye will heal.
But just like my scars, only the story will remain. Which is the best part of a scar anyway — bragging rights!

I love my scars.
But the ones I love the most are the ones I cannot see.

They are the scars on my heart and inside my soul. The ones that healed through an abundance of love, prayer, reflection, time and faith.

The scars we can’t see are the ones we remember most. They are the stuff heroes are made of and the ones worth living for.

And, I think, they are the scars that make us truly beautiful — and alive.
Oh yeah… and those bragging rights too.

More tomorrow.

{Do you have scars your proud of? Do share in the comments section below.}

You Can Do Anything

I fundamentally believe we can do anything. YOU can do anything. But, time is running out if you want to join me in the process!

Registration for YCDA 2013 coaching group ends March 11 at midnight. If you want hands-on support for your promise, group encouragement, and a bigger commitment to stick to your goals, just click here!


Day 79: scars, flesh, and blood

20 Mar

I scratched myself today.
I have no idea how I did it.

As I look at the little bubbles of red blood trying to scab over on my knee, I think: “I wonder if that scratch will scar?”

And, that would be okay.

Because I believe scars are beautiful.

Scars are like constellations on my body.
Reminding me where I have been and how I got there.

And, in some cases, how I got away from there.

I have a little white lined scar on my left arm, just up from my wrist. It’s left over from a childhood encounter with the ever-popular stationary motorcycle and some gravel.

My right leg has a little line running north to south. It’s remnant of our first summer on Martha’s Vineyard, and of all things, taking out the trash.

My left knee has a pretty gashed up scar from teenage summer nights spent playing sand volleyball.

And, then I have The North Star Scar.
It’s the Great Grandmother of them all.

It’s the stripe running up through my belly button, about 6 inches long. It starts at the base of my abdomen and stops just under my chest.

I wear it with pride.

It marks the spot where I used to have a spleen.

It also marks a point in time where I had to consider just what life meant. 

It reminds me that I am a cancer survivor, a thriver, a human on this planet making it through each and every day.

I have lived almost 20 years with this scar.

When I made it through the cancer treatments and then made my way to college, I would pull up my shirt to show it off.

It was actually pretty normal to hear me say,
“Want to see my scar?”

Seems almost foolish to me now.
But, this was back when the scar was fresh, I was a teenager, and life was very top of mind.

It was my prized souvenir.
It still is.

Sure, it’s a little crooked now.
The scar isn’t as straight or narrow as it used to be. Can’t blame it, she has  weathered years of weight gain and loss, sun streaks and stretch marks.

The star in the sky, the North Star, has historically been used for navigation, both to find the direction of north and to determine latitude.

My tummy scar has historically been a reminder that I am here on this planet to find my own True North.

When I am lost or confused, it is my navigator home.

Just rubbing my fingers up and down it’s pathway is enough to remind me to take a deep breath. To cherish my health and what I have.

And to wear a bikini.

While I won’t nonchalantly pull up my shirt anymore, I will sport the scar on the beach.  Why cover up a message of hope?

Let the North Star shine, I say.
That’s what stars (and scars) are supposed to do.
Remind us of the path taken and ultimately, our way home.

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