It’s been more than a year since I have been here to write about my experience with breast cancer. I think the time elapsed originally like it does when you really mean to call an old friend, but just can’t find the right time because it occurs to you at midnight and you certainly can’t call then. So time just gets away from you…next thing you know, it’s been a year.
That’s one reason. The other is so much harder to explain. I think that as you struggle through the physical battle of chemo and all of the expected and non-expected side effects, you have so much on your plate just trying to survive that there’s no time or energy to think about what comes next. For once in my life, I was truly living in the present. You have to in order to survive. But, then…
Chemo was over. I felt like I should be better a little bit every day. And it did get better, of course not at the rate I expected. (Patience is a virtue that continues to elude me.) Chemo wasn’t the end though. I still went to the infusion center every three weeks through the end of August to get hooked up for my targeted therapy. Targeted therapy is “Chemo Light”. The worst of the side effects diminish, but the promise of no effects never materialized. I had my last treatment on August 27th, Brayden’s 6th birthday. And then it was over. No fanfare or celebration, just the knowledge that I wouldn’t be doing it again. So I left, drove home, and began the wait to be “normal” again.
My hair was supposed to start coming back right after “bad chemo” ended and targeted therapy was still going on. I was told that targeted therapy would not prevent my hair from coming back. That didn’t exactly go down like it should have. I did get sprigs of hair, but the coverage never materialized. I had a great “Terry Bradshaw” look. (That’s hair just around the edges.) But, I just couldn’t seem to grow it back on top. My doctors didn’t expect this. They were a little stupefied by it. So, I started digging. Come to find out, the study drug, Avastin, does have a very rare side effect called “hair regrowth retardation”. It occurs so rarely in the population of patients that I’m practically a lotto winner, a lotto winner of a giant booby prize. (Disclaimer: Size of booby prize has no relation to size of boobies.) My hair is coming back now, but not very quickly. I’m a long way off from showing the world my head. Time will tell. I got a bit more hope today when I met a lady at church that said her hair took 3 years to come back. If that’s the case, I could be 2/3 of the way there.
Next week will be my 2 year survivor anniversary. That’s hard to believe. When all of this started I thought by now that it would be a memory like other difficult things I’ve long since forgotten about. Then, I spent the last year searching for a unicorn named closure. Like that unicorn, closure from this cancer just doesn’t exist. Like it or not, I am permanently changed physically, mentally, and spiritually. And oddly enough, that’s actually a beautiful thing.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Monday, May 31, 2010
Bill & Brayden
Very rarely do I see a photo that has the power to affect me in the way that this one has. I can't tell you how many times I have pulled it up on my phone since I opened it just before church started on Sunday. I cried through the whole service. Brayden went with his dad to see his Granddad's grave on Saturday at the Dallas-Fort Worth Memorial Cemetery. I wasn't there, but he snapped this shot as Brayden placed the little flag at the top of Bill's headstone. I've probably cried more this weekend about losing him than I have since the night it happened.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but that's really inaccurate in this case. It's so many more. There's all of the words that make up the story of a man who served his country in both Korea and Vietnam. Losing friends in unspeakable ways mere feet from where he sat. As bad as the stories we know are, I can't help but wonder how many of them were too horriffic to share. Despite the experiences, he came home to love his wife for more than 38 years and his only son for most of those, too. I never knew Bill as the military man. The man that I knew was just a hard working and kind father and husband.
I wish he could see Brayden now. He would be so proud. He loved that boy with such urgency. From the moment he was born until just before his sudden death, he had a one track mind. Time with Brayden was the priority. They had a standing date each Tuesday and whenever possible in between. If there were other people in the room, he'd never have known it. It was as if he squeezed a lifetime of love into one short year. Like he knew there was little time left...
This weekend was the first time that Brayden was old enough to tell all about his granddad. Before his dad came to get him, Mom and I told him all about Bill and how much he loved him. We talked about what a hero he was for serving our country like he did, and why we have Memorial Day. And, Mom also told him about the last time he saw his Granddad. You see, he was the last of us to see him.
Bill had been recovering from a triple bypass surgery and was doing great. So great that he was going to go home the next day. But, that didn't happen. Sometime that afternoon unbeknownst to the doctors or anyone else, a bloodclot had formed, escaped, and traveled to his abdomen. He looked fine, felt fine, and everything was proceeding normally...until it wasn't. Once they figured out what had happened, they rushed him into surgery to try and repair the damage, but one look told them the window on saving his life had passed. They closed the incision and said he wouldn't make it through the night.
I was on my way home from work when Bird called that night. I couldn't make sense of what he was telling me. I had just talked to Bill the day before! The doctors said everything would be fine. How can this be happening?? How can this be happening?? The world seemed to be spinning off of its axis. I just couldn't sort it out and was in no condition to drive when I arrived at Mom's. Recognizing it immediately, she threw both Brayden and me in the car and sped off to the hospital.
I can't describe the next few hours well. It was terrible. I'm thankful that I had the time to talk to him, tell him how much I loved him, but I could never wish the trauma of that night on anyone. We watched the machines, too many machines...we watched as they beeped slower and the numbers were reduced with each passing hour. Finally, the doctor came in to tell us it wouldn't be long.
At that point, Mom took Brayden down to the lobby to wait. She didn't want to intrude on the moment with the baby. Besides, the lobby was big and quiet and he'd be fine down there under the big open ceiling with an indoor kiddie playground.
I told Bill that we'd take care of Brayden. Whether he could hear me or not, I wanted him to know. Everyone had the opportunity to tell him what they needed him to know. When the lines went flat, they came in and unplugged everything while we wept. The neighbor decided to go down and let Mom know he was gone.
When he arrived, Mom already knew. Mom said they were just playing around when all of a sudden Brayden looked up, smiled and began to wave just like he would when Bill came to see him. His eyes tracked from the back of the building to right out the front door as he smiled and waved. The hair stood up on her neck because there was no one else there besides the two of them. It seems, he loved Brayden so much that he came by on his way out to say goodbye one last time.
So on this Memorial Day as I look at the photo, I see so many things. I see my boy paying tribute to his Granddad. I see the memory of a patriot. I see the resting place of a man we all loved. And, I can't help but see a private moment between Bill and Brayden like no one else was around...just like it used to be.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but that's really inaccurate in this case. It's so many more. There's all of the words that make up the story of a man who served his country in both Korea and Vietnam. Losing friends in unspeakable ways mere feet from where he sat. As bad as the stories we know are, I can't help but wonder how many of them were too horriffic to share. Despite the experiences, he came home to love his wife for more than 38 years and his only son for most of those, too. I never knew Bill as the military man. The man that I knew was just a hard working and kind father and husband.
I wish he could see Brayden now. He would be so proud. He loved that boy with such urgency. From the moment he was born until just before his sudden death, he had a one track mind. Time with Brayden was the priority. They had a standing date each Tuesday and whenever possible in between. If there were other people in the room, he'd never have known it. It was as if he squeezed a lifetime of love into one short year. Like he knew there was little time left...
This weekend was the first time that Brayden was old enough to tell all about his granddad. Before his dad came to get him, Mom and I told him all about Bill and how much he loved him. We talked about what a hero he was for serving our country like he did, and why we have Memorial Day. And, Mom also told him about the last time he saw his Granddad. You see, he was the last of us to see him.
Bill had been recovering from a triple bypass surgery and was doing great. So great that he was going to go home the next day. But, that didn't happen. Sometime that afternoon unbeknownst to the doctors or anyone else, a bloodclot had formed, escaped, and traveled to his abdomen. He looked fine, felt fine, and everything was proceeding normally...until it wasn't. Once they figured out what had happened, they rushed him into surgery to try and repair the damage, but one look told them the window on saving his life had passed. They closed the incision and said he wouldn't make it through the night.
I was on my way home from work when Bird called that night. I couldn't make sense of what he was telling me. I had just talked to Bill the day before! The doctors said everything would be fine. How can this be happening?? How can this be happening?? The world seemed to be spinning off of its axis. I just couldn't sort it out and was in no condition to drive when I arrived at Mom's. Recognizing it immediately, she threw both Brayden and me in the car and sped off to the hospital.
I can't describe the next few hours well. It was terrible. I'm thankful that I had the time to talk to him, tell him how much I loved him, but I could never wish the trauma of that night on anyone. We watched the machines, too many machines...we watched as they beeped slower and the numbers were reduced with each passing hour. Finally, the doctor came in to tell us it wouldn't be long.
At that point, Mom took Brayden down to the lobby to wait. She didn't want to intrude on the moment with the baby. Besides, the lobby was big and quiet and he'd be fine down there under the big open ceiling with an indoor kiddie playground.
I told Bill that we'd take care of Brayden. Whether he could hear me or not, I wanted him to know. Everyone had the opportunity to tell him what they needed him to know. When the lines went flat, they came in and unplugged everything while we wept. The neighbor decided to go down and let Mom know he was gone.
When he arrived, Mom already knew. Mom said they were just playing around when all of a sudden Brayden looked up, smiled and began to wave just like he would when Bill came to see him. His eyes tracked from the back of the building to right out the front door as he smiled and waved. The hair stood up on her neck because there was no one else there besides the two of them. It seems, he loved Brayden so much that he came by on his way out to say goodbye one last time.
So on this Memorial Day as I look at the photo, I see so many things. I see my boy paying tribute to his Granddad. I see the memory of a patriot. I see the resting place of a man we all loved. And, I can't help but see a private moment between Bill and Brayden like no one else was around...just like it used to be.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Stolen Blessings
One of the biggest lessons that I have learned in this experience has been to let people help me when I need it, even if I don't know that I do. I have a friend that is battling stage four cancer. Like me, she's a single mom. A couple of the differences are that she's in her third battle with a devastating form of the disease and she's the mother of three. It's heartbreaking and so many people want to do something to help. When I visited her recently, I sensed the hesitation she had when I started to try and nail down what we could do to help them. Now, I also had my friend Susan with me on that visit and that meant that I had to make a quick decision about a story that I thought would help her let us do something. But, it also meant coming clean. You see, the story involves Susan as a main character, but I hadn't ever told her the story either. I tell it now because I know it can help others let people help them, too.
Well first of all, there's a couple things that you need to know. I'm not proud of this, but it's none the less true. Once upon a time, I really wasn't very nice, tended to be primarily negative, and that attitude extended to just about everything...including Christmas lights. I remember driving around, not as a child but as a younger adult, to look at lights. I also remember multiple years that the "hunt" for good lights was unsuccessful.
You see, there were rigid requirements for the lights to be "good". They must only use white lights and they had to be the miniature kind, none of those big ones that we had when I was little. They also had to be hung completely tight so that they formed a perfect line, never one out of place. Lighted wreaths and garland were good as long as they were natural looking green and had red bows. Things in the yard were OK if they all matched, weren't too junky, and included a clearly demonstrated theme. Also, anything that blinked ruined the whole thing even if the house had qualified in every other way.
On the other hand, when I drove by a house that had those multi-color lights hung a little askew, some blinking and some not, I was horrified. "Who lives there? Aren't they embarrassed? Why bother?" I remember actually saying that out loud as if I were the Scrooge of Christmas lights critics. I now know exactly how ridiculous and awful this sounds, but truthfully even as Christmas approached last year I still had my preferences. I didn't have the same bad attitude about it, but the standards had been set long ago...
So, I picked Brayden up from Mom's on a Monday in early December after my 4th round of chemo. We were making the normal drive home when he asked, "Mommy can we have Christmas lights on our house? I really, really want them!" I still wasn't sure whether or not I could even put up a tree as bad as I was feeling. I knew for a FACT that we weren't going to have lights on the house. So, I said what moms say when the answer is "Not now or maybe ever" but we aren't up to the battle or willing to disappoint..."Not this year Brayden, but someday..."
That was the end of that...until Friday. So, we're home that Friday about 8:00, I think. The phone rings and it's Susan. She sounded excited, "Hey, the kids and I want to come over to your house and put up lights! It will be fun and Brayden can help!" Truthfully, I was instantly regretful that I picked up the phone. I wanted to say no simply because of how bad I felt after another week at work while living through chemo, but I could hear the excitement in her voice. "You don't have to do anything. Stay in bed! We'll show you when we're done," she continued.
"What kind of lights? What color?" I asked. Excitedly she added, "All kinds of colors!" I tried to dissuade her, but she was pretty set on doing this for me. I had a decision to make...my mind flashed back to a class I took at church more than a year before. In that class, we had been taught that saying "no" when someone wanted to bless you was actually a theft of their blessing. I knew it was true because I knew how much I was blessed when I had the opportunity to do things for others. The giver with the right heart always get the bigger blessing of the two. So, was I going to steal her blessing along with a great lesson on "do unto others" from her kids, and what Brayden wanted most for Christmas in one fell swoop?
I wanted to, don't get me wrong. I really, really wanted to. I added up what we were talking about in my head...multi-colored lights(probably blinking no less)...hung by one woman and 3 kids...after 8:00 PM in December when it's pitch black outside. My worst Christmas nightmare coming to life...But, I'm no thief. So, I uttered a hesitant "yes." They arrived, got Brayden outside to help, and I went back to bed worried about the result. Two hours later, they came to get me for the big reveal. What was I going to say??
They walked me outside with my eyes closed to the sidewalk and turned me around. There they were multi-colored and loosely hung, complete with the string blinking from roof line to the electrical outlet near the porch. I could see the reflection of the lights as I looked at the excited faces and my heart just melted. Pure joy poured from Brayden's face. And you know what? Something in me changed in that moment because they were suddenly the most beautiful lights that I had ever seen. And because I said yes, we had all been blessed. So, who lives in those houses with loosely hung, multi-colored, partially blinking lights?? I do.
Well first of all, there's a couple things that you need to know. I'm not proud of this, but it's none the less true. Once upon a time, I really wasn't very nice, tended to be primarily negative, and that attitude extended to just about everything...including Christmas lights. I remember driving around, not as a child but as a younger adult, to look at lights. I also remember multiple years that the "hunt" for good lights was unsuccessful.
You see, there were rigid requirements for the lights to be "good". They must only use white lights and they had to be the miniature kind, none of those big ones that we had when I was little. They also had to be hung completely tight so that they formed a perfect line, never one out of place. Lighted wreaths and garland were good as long as they were natural looking green and had red bows. Things in the yard were OK if they all matched, weren't too junky, and included a clearly demonstrated theme. Also, anything that blinked ruined the whole thing even if the house had qualified in every other way.
On the other hand, when I drove by a house that had those multi-color lights hung a little askew, some blinking and some not, I was horrified. "Who lives there? Aren't they embarrassed? Why bother?" I remember actually saying that out loud as if I were the Scrooge of Christmas lights critics. I now know exactly how ridiculous and awful this sounds, but truthfully even as Christmas approached last year I still had my preferences. I didn't have the same bad attitude about it, but the standards had been set long ago...
So, I picked Brayden up from Mom's on a Monday in early December after my 4th round of chemo. We were making the normal drive home when he asked, "Mommy can we have Christmas lights on our house? I really, really want them!" I still wasn't sure whether or not I could even put up a tree as bad as I was feeling. I knew for a FACT that we weren't going to have lights on the house. So, I said what moms say when the answer is "Not now or maybe ever" but we aren't up to the battle or willing to disappoint..."Not this year Brayden, but someday..."
That was the end of that...until Friday. So, we're home that Friday about 8:00, I think. The phone rings and it's Susan. She sounded excited, "Hey, the kids and I want to come over to your house and put up lights! It will be fun and Brayden can help!" Truthfully, I was instantly regretful that I picked up the phone. I wanted to say no simply because of how bad I felt after another week at work while living through chemo, but I could hear the excitement in her voice. "You don't have to do anything. Stay in bed! We'll show you when we're done," she continued.
"What kind of lights? What color?" I asked. Excitedly she added, "All kinds of colors!" I tried to dissuade her, but she was pretty set on doing this for me. I had a decision to make...my mind flashed back to a class I took at church more than a year before. In that class, we had been taught that saying "no" when someone wanted to bless you was actually a theft of their blessing. I knew it was true because I knew how much I was blessed when I had the opportunity to do things for others. The giver with the right heart always get the bigger blessing of the two. So, was I going to steal her blessing along with a great lesson on "do unto others" from her kids, and what Brayden wanted most for Christmas in one fell swoop?
I wanted to, don't get me wrong. I really, really wanted to. I added up what we were talking about in my head...multi-colored lights(probably blinking no less)...hung by one woman and 3 kids...after 8:00 PM in December when it's pitch black outside. My worst Christmas nightmare coming to life...But, I'm no thief. So, I uttered a hesitant "yes." They arrived, got Brayden outside to help, and I went back to bed worried about the result. Two hours later, they came to get me for the big reveal. What was I going to say??
They walked me outside with my eyes closed to the sidewalk and turned me around. There they were multi-colored and loosely hung, complete with the string blinking from roof line to the electrical outlet near the porch. I could see the reflection of the lights as I looked at the excited faces and my heart just melted. Pure joy poured from Brayden's face. And you know what? Something in me changed in that moment because they were suddenly the most beautiful lights that I had ever seen. And because I said yes, we had all been blessed. So, who lives in those houses with loosely hung, multi-colored, partially blinking lights?? I do.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Gaining Perspective & Giving Thanks
It's been so long since I came here to write anything, I can't believe it. So, long that I had forgotten what I last wrote. I have to admit that as I just looked over the last couple of entries, I contemplated taking one of them down. "Angry" was entirely too angry! I was a little shocked and quite embarrassed at how self-centered it sounded. I guess that's because it was. It's amazing how wide the swings can be in emotions. I ended up leaving it because regardless how it sounds, it was true at that moment in time. I began this blog to capture the truth about this journey and it isn't always pretty. What's weird about it all is that you just can't tell which events are going to trigger the worst reactions. Lost the breasts, no problem. Lost the hair, much more of a problem. Eyelashes and Nails, complete meltdown. Really?? Like chemo, the effects of the experience are cumulative, I guess.
Anyway, things have changed dramatically over the last 2 months. I am doing SO much better, physically and mentally. I now have eyebrows again! I also have very short (but none the less present) eyelashes, and 9 healthy nails! Today I went to get them done for the third time since the day everything hit the fan and was so pleased that my entire right hand looks normal again. One of my nails on the left hand broke last night down to about 1/4 of an inch. It's the only bad one I have left. Lynn managed to make a short temporary nail. So, it looks OK and will only get better. I am so thankful that she has walked me through this time. I even got my eyebrows waxed today to clean up the edges. If you had told me a year ago that I would celebrate an eyebrow waxing and nail appointment, I would have thought that you were nuts.
I am also so thankful that I have kicked the fatigue that was so debilitating. I have been getting better for some time, but realized last week that I no longer even think about the walk from the car to the door at work. Even when I began to do it again, it was a little difficult. But, not any more. For that I am so thankful.
I am having some new side effects from the Herceptin, but it is nothing compared to the ones that are behind me. It's causing very stiff joints and deep aches when I wake up in the mornings and after any time in one spot. I kind of look like a little old lady when I get up from my desk at work, but have walked it out by the time I get 1/2 way down the hall. In the mornings, my shower fixes the problem in under 10 minutes. So as I said, it really is nothing compared to what I have already experienced. Besides, Herceptin's biggest side effect is heart damage, and I have none of that. Instead, I have had 3 clear echos. Again, very very thankful...
I also now have most of a very short "boy" haircut looking fuzz that covers my head. I don't know how this is going to go, but it's just a matter of time before I decide that I can't stand the heat and the long beautiful wig. Vanity doesn't matter at all when it's 110 degrees and your hormones are still absent or completely out of whack, whatever the case may be. I have already removed it at work in meetings with my closest teammates. Thankfully, they are very understanding. I am also thankful for them and how well my company has treated me during this whole illness. So many people have a different experience.
I think it's just a matter of perspective. I have mine back and for that, I am grateful. I've also forgiven myself for losing it temporarily. No more looking back. It's time to see what's ahead.
Anyway, things have changed dramatically over the last 2 months. I am doing SO much better, physically and mentally. I now have eyebrows again! I also have very short (but none the less present) eyelashes, and 9 healthy nails! Today I went to get them done for the third time since the day everything hit the fan and was so pleased that my entire right hand looks normal again. One of my nails on the left hand broke last night down to about 1/4 of an inch. It's the only bad one I have left. Lynn managed to make a short temporary nail. So, it looks OK and will only get better. I am so thankful that she has walked me through this time. I even got my eyebrows waxed today to clean up the edges. If you had told me a year ago that I would celebrate an eyebrow waxing and nail appointment, I would have thought that you were nuts.
I am also so thankful that I have kicked the fatigue that was so debilitating. I have been getting better for some time, but realized last week that I no longer even think about the walk from the car to the door at work. Even when I began to do it again, it was a little difficult. But, not any more. For that I am so thankful.
I am having some new side effects from the Herceptin, but it is nothing compared to the ones that are behind me. It's causing very stiff joints and deep aches when I wake up in the mornings and after any time in one spot. I kind of look like a little old lady when I get up from my desk at work, but have walked it out by the time I get 1/2 way down the hall. In the mornings, my shower fixes the problem in under 10 minutes. So as I said, it really is nothing compared to what I have already experienced. Besides, Herceptin's biggest side effect is heart damage, and I have none of that. Instead, I have had 3 clear echos. Again, very very thankful...
I also now have most of a very short "boy" haircut looking fuzz that covers my head. I don't know how this is going to go, but it's just a matter of time before I decide that I can't stand the heat and the long beautiful wig. Vanity doesn't matter at all when it's 110 degrees and your hormones are still absent or completely out of whack, whatever the case may be. I have already removed it at work in meetings with my closest teammates. Thankfully, they are very understanding. I am also thankful for them and how well my company has treated me during this whole illness. So many people have a different experience.
I think it's just a matter of perspective. I have mine back and for that, I am grateful. I've also forgiven myself for losing it temporarily. No more looking back. It's time to see what's ahead.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Destination "NORMAL"
Last time I was here, I was pretty angry. Angry enough to title my entry as such, but that subsided as soon as I finished typing. From that point, it became necessary to figure out exactly how I am going to deal with all of the latest developments. Anger is always a flashover for me. It happens fast and it’s really hot, but wanes as fast as it arrives. Thankfully, I just don’t stay angry. So, I decided to do something about it, to the best of my ability. I made a phone call, and went that evening to my nail lady, Lynn, to see if she could help. Turns out, she can. We’ve established a plan and sufficient camo for my nails as long as they don’t get much worse. We will see. She’s a miracle worker so far. But, I now have 6 of 10 that have been affected to one degree or another. So, I don’t yet know what the outcome is going to be or how long I can mask it.
As for the rest of the physical changes, well they’ve become quite the pain. Originally there was some time advantage to losing my hair. I can do my hair in the evenings, put it on the stand on the dresser and slap it on in the morning. Sounds like a time saver. That is until the brows and lashes go…
Now, I spend 30-45 minutes a day trying to glue and paint on the hair that is supposed to be there. Since I have 1 hair left in my left eyebrow and only a few on the right, it takes quite a long time to recreate them in a realistic manner. The goal is that no on notices the difference. I can achieve that, but it takes time! One wrong stroke and you can look pretty weird. I certainly don’t want to look surprised all of the time or like I’m glaring at everyone. They can’t be too long, too short, too fat, or too slim. “Too” anything is a definite problem. Dr Seuss could write a book...
It’s also very important that I take my brow kit with me when I go to work or anywhere else. I learned this the hard way. It’s pretty funny really. I was in a meeting with one of my co-workers not that long ago and got an itch on my forehead. So, I scratched it. No big deal, right? Wrong!! I forgot that one good momentary swipe could remove 10-15 minutes of work and a brow.
He looked up from the document we had been working on with a strange look about the same time I noticed all of the brown stuff on my hand. Being tragically shy like I am, I said, “Crap! There goes my eyebrow! Can you tell?” Talk about taking a meeting off task…I don’t think he looked up from the document another single time for the duration of the meeting. I had to chuckle. If all of these things weren’t happening to me, I’d probably be uncomfortable, too. But, they are happening to me so I get to laugh at other people’s discomfort. It’s pretty funny.
Turns out, the answer to my question was YES! you could tell, although he was too polite to say so. I walked around the rest of the day with a left eye brow that was about an inch long because I didn’t have “the kit” with me. So I have learned that with cancer, the brow kit is like American Express. Don’t leave home without it!
So, about the eyelashes. Here’s a bullet that I thought I dodged because chemo has been over since January and I still had enough lashes to look normal. That was until the week before last…Now I don’t. I have none on the bottom and what I can only describe as several on each top lid. That’s more than 3, but less than 10. It’s a pitiful state of affairs.
I’ve seen people that lose them and you just can’t really tell the difference. I’m not one of those people. Without my eyelashes, my eyes disappear. So, I am getting used to gluing them on.
I found some that look almost exactly like my real ones. So, they look good as long as they stay on, that is. I haven’t quite mastered the exact science of how much glue is enough. I have one more than half hanging off my face by the end of the day about 30-40% of the time. On those days I have underestimated. Last week I overestimated. I had glue all over me, the bathroom counter, the eyelashes, my eyelid, just about everywhere.
It’s tricky stuff! It doesn’t set up right away. You have to apply it, wait for about 2-3 minutes and then try to stick them on. The “wait 30 seconds” recommendation on the box of glue is a gross underestimation. If you do it too soon, they won’t stick. You just get glue everywhere. Then when it sets up, whatever has glue on it gets glued to something. I have glued my eye shut. I have glued my eye open. I have glued my fingers to the lashes and to the eye. There are any number of ways you can get it wrong. I’ve accomplished all of the ones I can think of so far. But, then there’s always tomorrow… The funny part is that I make all of this effort each day to look normal. That’s such a low standard! I’m not trying to look “the best” or to stand out in some way, just achieve normal.
The irony of that hit my while my finger was glued to my eye the other day. How many people do I pass each day that are doing the same thing for far less obvious reasons? How many people do I encounter each day that are putting on a good face, but are so broken inside? They look normal, but are one small disaster away from giving up. People that are one more late payment away from homelessness, or one broken relationship away from feeling complete rejection. Their troubles are so much greater than mine. Do they know that there’s actually a place of unconditional love? Do they know how much has been given for them already? If they don’t, I hope that one day I will have the chance to tell them. I think it was Mother Theresa that said, “You don’t know Jesus is all you need until he’s all you have.” For me, that required many wasted years and a little cancer. But that’s ok. The lesson was well worth the price.
As for the rest of the physical changes, well they’ve become quite the pain. Originally there was some time advantage to losing my hair. I can do my hair in the evenings, put it on the stand on the dresser and slap it on in the morning. Sounds like a time saver. That is until the brows and lashes go…
Now, I spend 30-45 minutes a day trying to glue and paint on the hair that is supposed to be there. Since I have 1 hair left in my left eyebrow and only a few on the right, it takes quite a long time to recreate them in a realistic manner. The goal is that no on notices the difference. I can achieve that, but it takes time! One wrong stroke and you can look pretty weird. I certainly don’t want to look surprised all of the time or like I’m glaring at everyone. They can’t be too long, too short, too fat, or too slim. “Too” anything is a definite problem. Dr Seuss could write a book...
It’s also very important that I take my brow kit with me when I go to work or anywhere else. I learned this the hard way. It’s pretty funny really. I was in a meeting with one of my co-workers not that long ago and got an itch on my forehead. So, I scratched it. No big deal, right? Wrong!! I forgot that one good momentary swipe could remove 10-15 minutes of work and a brow.
He looked up from the document we had been working on with a strange look about the same time I noticed all of the brown stuff on my hand. Being tragically shy like I am, I said, “Crap! There goes my eyebrow! Can you tell?” Talk about taking a meeting off task…I don’t think he looked up from the document another single time for the duration of the meeting. I had to chuckle. If all of these things weren’t happening to me, I’d probably be uncomfortable, too. But, they are happening to me so I get to laugh at other people’s discomfort. It’s pretty funny.
Turns out, the answer to my question was YES! you could tell, although he was too polite to say so. I walked around the rest of the day with a left eye brow that was about an inch long because I didn’t have “the kit” with me. So I have learned that with cancer, the brow kit is like American Express. Don’t leave home without it!
So, about the eyelashes. Here’s a bullet that I thought I dodged because chemo has been over since January and I still had enough lashes to look normal. That was until the week before last…Now I don’t. I have none on the bottom and what I can only describe as several on each top lid. That’s more than 3, but less than 10. It’s a pitiful state of affairs.
I’ve seen people that lose them and you just can’t really tell the difference. I’m not one of those people. Without my eyelashes, my eyes disappear. So, I am getting used to gluing them on.
I found some that look almost exactly like my real ones. So, they look good as long as they stay on, that is. I haven’t quite mastered the exact science of how much glue is enough. I have one more than half hanging off my face by the end of the day about 30-40% of the time. On those days I have underestimated. Last week I overestimated. I had glue all over me, the bathroom counter, the eyelashes, my eyelid, just about everywhere.
It’s tricky stuff! It doesn’t set up right away. You have to apply it, wait for about 2-3 minutes and then try to stick them on. The “wait 30 seconds” recommendation on the box of glue is a gross underestimation. If you do it too soon, they won’t stick. You just get glue everywhere. Then when it sets up, whatever has glue on it gets glued to something. I have glued my eye shut. I have glued my eye open. I have glued my fingers to the lashes and to the eye. There are any number of ways you can get it wrong. I’ve accomplished all of the ones I can think of so far. But, then there’s always tomorrow… The funny part is that I make all of this effort each day to look normal. That’s such a low standard! I’m not trying to look “the best” or to stand out in some way, just achieve normal.
The irony of that hit my while my finger was glued to my eye the other day. How many people do I pass each day that are doing the same thing for far less obvious reasons? How many people do I encounter each day that are putting on a good face, but are so broken inside? They look normal, but are one small disaster away from giving up. People that are one more late payment away from homelessness, or one broken relationship away from feeling complete rejection. Their troubles are so much greater than mine. Do they know that there’s actually a place of unconditional love? Do they know how much has been given for them already? If they don’t, I hope that one day I will have the chance to tell them. I think it was Mother Theresa that said, “You don’t know Jesus is all you need until he’s all you have.” For me, that required many wasted years and a little cancer. But that’s ok. The lesson was well worth the price.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Angry
There have been very few times that I have been truly angry during this cancer battle. I’ve been scared, hurt, sick, despondent, and probably a few other things during this time, but real red-hot anger hasn’t been one of them. Angry is actually too reserved of a word for what I am feeling. I’m pissed, plain, undiluted, flat-out PISSED!! (I know that is a “bad” word, Mom. But, if I typed what was really running through my head it would be so much worse.) I may be forgiven, but I’m certainly not cured of my human condition.
I just don’t understand. No one prepared me for this. How far does it have to go? What lesson have I not already learned? Exactly how vain WAS I that deems this necessary? I just don’t get it. What else???
That’s a question that I don’t usually ask. In fact, just the sound of it coming out of the mouth of someone else puts fear in my heart for them. But, I ask it today because I just don’t think there’s anything left. Even as I type this I feel sick from asking. But would any of you feel any different? If so, help me understand. Believe me, I NEED the help. Let’s just go down the list of ways this stupid cancer have stripped and stolen from me…
First, there’s the hair. Every woman who gets cancer fears it, most deal with it. Heavens knows that I have spent enough time here talking/whining about it. So, why stop now?
I realized yesterday that even though I finished chemo on January 8th, the effects on my body continue to worsen in some ways. After I got out of the shower last night I was looking in the mirror to remove eye make-up and noticed that I have now lost all but 1 hair of my left eyebrow. ONE hair! My right has a few, some of which need to be plucked. You see, the good ones keep falling out, but some of the bad ones have decided to make a return. I plucked a lone black hair out of my chin this morning, too. Really??? Are you kidding me? It wasn’t there yesterday…how did it grow an inch long overnight when I have just 1 eyebrow hair?? What, did you lose your way? Take a right when you should have taken a left at the nose or something? How can this be?
I thought I dodged the eyelash loss also, but no. Every round of chemo has taken some eyelashes with it. Until now, it was OK because I usually have so many. After I had lost half of them, I still had more than a lot of people. Eyelashes, long beautiful ones, have always been something that I took for granted. Lesson learned. Check that off the list. Last night I also realized that there were huge whole bald spots where my lashes used to be. After my shower this morning there were even fewer. I have two ¼ inch clumps on each eye left. So, this weekend I get to figure out how to apply the fake ones of those. That should be fun.
The irony of it is that as the “good” hair continues to fall out, the “bad” had returned. If you have no hair on your head, no eyebrows, no eyelashes to speak of, you should not have to shave your pits and legs! How ironic is that? Someone should call Alanis Morisette…she could write another verse to her old song.
Another lovely physical price of my treatment has been weight gain. Yeah, I said GAIN. If one more person asks me why I haven’t lost weight from cancer, I might just lash out and gut them. Now granted, I didn’t know breast cancer treatment made you gain weight either. But, I never would have said anything to someone fighting cancer about their weight. You’d be amazed at how many people do. If you’re lucky and contracted just the right kind of breast cancer, you can gain all kinds of weight. I’ve been fortunate enough to gain 30 pounds from it. No exaggeration. 30 freaking pounds! I visit all of my size 6 clothes each morning in the closet as I stuff my butt in ever shrinking 12’s.
This is particularly frustrating because I worked so hard to get the weight off after having Brayden. It took more than 8 months (once I started 18 months after his birth) to lose 68 pounds. I was thinner than I have ever been in my life and felt really good about the way that I looked. I kept it off for a long time, too! But, that all went out the window with the diagnosis. In the beginning you “treat” yourself to whatever you want because you have cancer. Then, the steroids begin their work. Then, the chemo starts its thing….next thing you know you’re fat. Only this time, it’s worse because you are also bald. Oh, and there’s that little thing about removing your breasts…because that makes you feel so good about yourself! When you remove body parts you should weigh less, not more!
Let’s add that up….no hair, no eyebrows, no eyelashes, and no breasts. Then the straw that broke the camel’s back, I’m losing my fingernails. This morning two of them turned loose almost all of the way back. It’s a side effect of my Taxotere. I knew “nail changes” were possible, but didn’t know that included LOSS. So, I have 8 that still look OK. But, 3 days ago they all looked OK. Only 22% of the time people experience nail changes. Way to miss the good 78%! Besides, I thought changes were lines, discoloration, etc. Not LOSS!
Anyway, it all adds up to me being incredibly angry. I know that this experience has permanently changed me. How could it not? I’ve never been in denial about that. I guess the anger comes from the fact that I thought I was on the upswing. I thought that the bad stuff was basically over. I thought that it was all uphill from here. I thought a lot of things. But, they were not to be.
I just don’t understand. No one prepared me for this. How far does it have to go? What lesson have I not already learned? Exactly how vain WAS I that deems this necessary? I just don’t get it. What else???
That’s a question that I don’t usually ask. In fact, just the sound of it coming out of the mouth of someone else puts fear in my heart for them. But, I ask it today because I just don’t think there’s anything left. Even as I type this I feel sick from asking. But would any of you feel any different? If so, help me understand. Believe me, I NEED the help. Let’s just go down the list of ways this stupid cancer have stripped and stolen from me…
First, there’s the hair. Every woman who gets cancer fears it, most deal with it. Heavens knows that I have spent enough time here talking/whining about it. So, why stop now?
I realized yesterday that even though I finished chemo on January 8th, the effects on my body continue to worsen in some ways. After I got out of the shower last night I was looking in the mirror to remove eye make-up and noticed that I have now lost all but 1 hair of my left eyebrow. ONE hair! My right has a few, some of which need to be plucked. You see, the good ones keep falling out, but some of the bad ones have decided to make a return. I plucked a lone black hair out of my chin this morning, too. Really??? Are you kidding me? It wasn’t there yesterday…how did it grow an inch long overnight when I have just 1 eyebrow hair?? What, did you lose your way? Take a right when you should have taken a left at the nose or something? How can this be?
I thought I dodged the eyelash loss also, but no. Every round of chemo has taken some eyelashes with it. Until now, it was OK because I usually have so many. After I had lost half of them, I still had more than a lot of people. Eyelashes, long beautiful ones, have always been something that I took for granted. Lesson learned. Check that off the list. Last night I also realized that there were huge whole bald spots where my lashes used to be. After my shower this morning there were even fewer. I have two ¼ inch clumps on each eye left. So, this weekend I get to figure out how to apply the fake ones of those. That should be fun.
The irony of it is that as the “good” hair continues to fall out, the “bad” had returned. If you have no hair on your head, no eyebrows, no eyelashes to speak of, you should not have to shave your pits and legs! How ironic is that? Someone should call Alanis Morisette…she could write another verse to her old song.
Another lovely physical price of my treatment has been weight gain. Yeah, I said GAIN. If one more person asks me why I haven’t lost weight from cancer, I might just lash out and gut them. Now granted, I didn’t know breast cancer treatment made you gain weight either. But, I never would have said anything to someone fighting cancer about their weight. You’d be amazed at how many people do. If you’re lucky and contracted just the right kind of breast cancer, you can gain all kinds of weight. I’ve been fortunate enough to gain 30 pounds from it. No exaggeration. 30 freaking pounds! I visit all of my size 6 clothes each morning in the closet as I stuff my butt in ever shrinking 12’s.
This is particularly frustrating because I worked so hard to get the weight off after having Brayden. It took more than 8 months (once I started 18 months after his birth) to lose 68 pounds. I was thinner than I have ever been in my life and felt really good about the way that I looked. I kept it off for a long time, too! But, that all went out the window with the diagnosis. In the beginning you “treat” yourself to whatever you want because you have cancer. Then, the steroids begin their work. Then, the chemo starts its thing….next thing you know you’re fat. Only this time, it’s worse because you are also bald. Oh, and there’s that little thing about removing your breasts…because that makes you feel so good about yourself! When you remove body parts you should weigh less, not more!
Let’s add that up….no hair, no eyebrows, no eyelashes, and no breasts. Then the straw that broke the camel’s back, I’m losing my fingernails. This morning two of them turned loose almost all of the way back. It’s a side effect of my Taxotere. I knew “nail changes” were possible, but didn’t know that included LOSS. So, I have 8 that still look OK. But, 3 days ago they all looked OK. Only 22% of the time people experience nail changes. Way to miss the good 78%! Besides, I thought changes were lines, discoloration, etc. Not LOSS!
Anyway, it all adds up to me being incredibly angry. I know that this experience has permanently changed me. How could it not? I’ve never been in denial about that. I guess the anger comes from the fact that I thought I was on the upswing. I thought that the bad stuff was basically over. I thought that it was all uphill from here. I thought a lot of things. But, they were not to be.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Business of "Becoming"
Becoming who we are supposed to be ought to be easier it seems. Maybe it would have been if I had started earlier. But, for whatever reason, that’s not the plan. Besides, I wouldn’t be who I am without all of those years of “experience”. Most of the time, I believe that. Some days I think it’s just what we tell ourselves so that we can deal with all of the wasted time.
Either way, I had a wonderful revelation last week and I thought it was worthy of sharing in case someone else was in the “are we there yet?” mode of personal development. At our leadership conference at church last week we had the opportunity to hear from our pastor’s father. He’s a wonderful pastor himself. Dr Young is quite different from his son, but they are both master communicators. He spoke on our need to get focused on “becoming” instead of so much doing. In other words, once we become who we are supposed to be, the “doing” will take care of itself as the fruit that bears witness to the work God has done in our lives. I had never thought about this in exactly this way.
The example that he used to explain is one I love to examine. He used Paul. I love Paul’s story. He’s one of my very favorite characters of the Bible. How could you not love Paul’s story? Most of us love a good redemption story, and there is none better than Paul’s. Here’s a guy who actually persecuted/murdered Christians until the day that he was on his way to Damascus and Jesus appeared to him. He was blinded for 3 days, regained his sight, converted in a BIG way, and then eventually went on to write over half of the New Testament. Even Hollywood couldn’t think up a redemption story like that!
But, it wasn’t those events of his life that were news to me. The “a-ha” moment came in what isn’t included in the story that I’ve known for years. You see, apparently Paul failed miserably in converting other people immediately following his conversion. He was on fire, but very ineffective. Somehow I missed that part of the story. Turns out that somewhere between 13 and 18 years passed before that changed. That’s a lot of years!!
So, there were all of those years of preparation and development before he was ready to be used in the most incredible way. Even Paul had to “become” before he could do what he was created to do. Now, I have no misconception that my plan is a fraction of the plan that God had for Paul. I mean he brought the Gospel to the western world for goodness sakes. But the truth is that I don’t know what it is yet. I’m still in preparation mode.
My pastor says regularly that whatever we are going through, God is preparing us for what he has already prepared for us. Isn’t that cool? I’m like a child waiting for Christmas morning knowing the gift is so much better than anything I could ever imagine. So now I want to be about the business of “becoming” so that I can find out exactly what that is. I don’t know where it will take me or who I will encounter along the way, but I do know that I will be pleasantly surprised. I always am.
Either way, I had a wonderful revelation last week and I thought it was worthy of sharing in case someone else was in the “are we there yet?” mode of personal development. At our leadership conference at church last week we had the opportunity to hear from our pastor’s father. He’s a wonderful pastor himself. Dr Young is quite different from his son, but they are both master communicators. He spoke on our need to get focused on “becoming” instead of so much doing. In other words, once we become who we are supposed to be, the “doing” will take care of itself as the fruit that bears witness to the work God has done in our lives. I had never thought about this in exactly this way.
The example that he used to explain is one I love to examine. He used Paul. I love Paul’s story. He’s one of my very favorite characters of the Bible. How could you not love Paul’s story? Most of us love a good redemption story, and there is none better than Paul’s. Here’s a guy who actually persecuted/murdered Christians until the day that he was on his way to Damascus and Jesus appeared to him. He was blinded for 3 days, regained his sight, converted in a BIG way, and then eventually went on to write over half of the New Testament. Even Hollywood couldn’t think up a redemption story like that!
But, it wasn’t those events of his life that were news to me. The “a-ha” moment came in what isn’t included in the story that I’ve known for years. You see, apparently Paul failed miserably in converting other people immediately following his conversion. He was on fire, but very ineffective. Somehow I missed that part of the story. Turns out that somewhere between 13 and 18 years passed before that changed. That’s a lot of years!!
So, there were all of those years of preparation and development before he was ready to be used in the most incredible way. Even Paul had to “become” before he could do what he was created to do. Now, I have no misconception that my plan is a fraction of the plan that God had for Paul. I mean he brought the Gospel to the western world for goodness sakes. But the truth is that I don’t know what it is yet. I’m still in preparation mode.
My pastor says regularly that whatever we are going through, God is preparing us for what he has already prepared for us. Isn’t that cool? I’m like a child waiting for Christmas morning knowing the gift is so much better than anything I could ever imagine. So now I want to be about the business of “becoming” so that I can find out exactly what that is. I don’t know where it will take me or who I will encounter along the way, but I do know that I will be pleasantly surprised. I always am.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Terror in Troop 282
I still can’t believe how much of this experience is about hair. From diagnosis on, every stage has something to do with stinking hair! First you mourn the coming loss. Then, you shop for temporary hair, which turns out to redefine the word temporary for you. (It’s a lot longer than you think it’s going to be in the beginning.) Then you finish treatment, and begin the long wait of regrowth. The experience of losing your hair teaches you so much more than you ever wanted to know about your own value and definition of beauty. It’s a lesson I could have lived without, but I am better for the experience. Turns out that no matter how secure we fancy ourselves to be, the truth is something different entirely.
Somewhere in the middle of this experience, you become so much more comfortable with your loss of hair than other people are. This is a great place to arrive. It makes for all kinds of opportunities of laughter. In the beginning, I was so self-conscious about it. I was terrified that people could tell. I thought everyone was looking. It was completely obsessive! Now, look if you want. It’s making you a lot more uncomfortable than me. Of course, I say that with one possible exception. During the time that I was far too sick to do anything but make it to work and then spend my weekends in bed to recover, I had an unexpected encounter with a girl scout. I dare say she will remember it for the rest of her life…
It was a Saturday afternoon and as normal on Saturdays at the time, I was in bed. We had family in town for the weekend staying with either Michelle or Mom. I can’t remember who exactly. I mention this because none of the following events would have transpired if no one was in town. If we hadn’t had family in town, I would have never thought to answer the door because I don’t answer the door. If you come to my house without calling to ASK first, you won’t find anyone home. I might be home, but you will not find me there. As a single mom, that’s just being safety minded. The truth is that safety is just a by-product of training people to not drop in. I promise not to drop in on you, please do the same for me. (Yes Mom, I mean you, too.)
So, I’m in bed sound asleep on this Saturday afternoon around 4:00. All of a sudden, I hear a rather loud knock on the front door. Well, half expecting someone to walk in, I jumped out of bed to see who it was. Since I didn’t hear a key in the lock but saw someone standing there, I whipped open the door in a confused and groggy state. I was literally waking up during this whole thing. Much to my surprise, and hers, there stood a poor little girl scout. She was probably nine-ish if I were venturing a guess. Before she or I realized what was going on, she asked, “Would you like to buy some cookies?”
As the horror from what she was looking at washed across her face, I realized that in my haste to get to the door that I had grabbed neither a wig nor a hat. I had also taken a shower before the nap, but failed to remove my eye make-up from the day before. In my defense, I expected this to be family! So, here I stood in all my kiwi-like glory half asleep with huge black circles of yesterday’s make-up around my eyes terrifying some poor girl scout. Needless to say, she had the presence of mind to wish me well as she turned and ran away.
Add to that the fact that I had not opened my front door in months. (Neither had anyone else…) So, there were cob webs everywhere. It looked like the Adams family lived there, and Uncle Fester just answered the door! I wish I could have heard her tell it. She may never sell another cookie. But, who sells things door to door anymore? I bet she’ll think twice about it next time.
Somewhere in the middle of this experience, you become so much more comfortable with your loss of hair than other people are. This is a great place to arrive. It makes for all kinds of opportunities of laughter. In the beginning, I was so self-conscious about it. I was terrified that people could tell. I thought everyone was looking. It was completely obsessive! Now, look if you want. It’s making you a lot more uncomfortable than me. Of course, I say that with one possible exception. During the time that I was far too sick to do anything but make it to work and then spend my weekends in bed to recover, I had an unexpected encounter with a girl scout. I dare say she will remember it for the rest of her life…
It was a Saturday afternoon and as normal on Saturdays at the time, I was in bed. We had family in town for the weekend staying with either Michelle or Mom. I can’t remember who exactly. I mention this because none of the following events would have transpired if no one was in town. If we hadn’t had family in town, I would have never thought to answer the door because I don’t answer the door. If you come to my house without calling to ASK first, you won’t find anyone home. I might be home, but you will not find me there. As a single mom, that’s just being safety minded. The truth is that safety is just a by-product of training people to not drop in. I promise not to drop in on you, please do the same for me. (Yes Mom, I mean you, too.)
So, I’m in bed sound asleep on this Saturday afternoon around 4:00. All of a sudden, I hear a rather loud knock on the front door. Well, half expecting someone to walk in, I jumped out of bed to see who it was. Since I didn’t hear a key in the lock but saw someone standing there, I whipped open the door in a confused and groggy state. I was literally waking up during this whole thing. Much to my surprise, and hers, there stood a poor little girl scout. She was probably nine-ish if I were venturing a guess. Before she or I realized what was going on, she asked, “Would you like to buy some cookies?”
As the horror from what she was looking at washed across her face, I realized that in my haste to get to the door that I had grabbed neither a wig nor a hat. I had also taken a shower before the nap, but failed to remove my eye make-up from the day before. In my defense, I expected this to be family! So, here I stood in all my kiwi-like glory half asleep with huge black circles of yesterday’s make-up around my eyes terrifying some poor girl scout. Needless to say, she had the presence of mind to wish me well as she turned and ran away.
Add to that the fact that I had not opened my front door in months. (Neither had anyone else…) So, there were cob webs everywhere. It looked like the Adams family lived there, and Uncle Fester just answered the door! I wish I could have heard her tell it. She may never sell another cookie. But, who sells things door to door anymore? I bet she’ll think twice about it next time.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Coming Back to Life
They say that hindsight is 20/20. I’m not so sure about the 20/20 part, but it is clearer than recognizing where you are in the moment. I say this because I have just realized in the last week how sick I have truly been over the last few months. This is not really news to anyone but me. But, that’s me. I can’t remember recognizing any challenge in my life for what it was in the moment. It’s only after the fact that the realization hits home. I probably couldn’t have made it through as well as I did if I realized what I was up against. I have made it through some incredibly powerful poison.
Everyone knows chemo takes a toll on you. You just don’t realize how much until you go through it. I spoke with my breast surgeon’s nurse practitioner yesterday to schedule my follow-up. She asked how I was, and I told her how difficult it had been. She said something kind of profound. She said, “When you go through what you’ve been through, you have to decide what you’re going to show up for. And, it can’t be everything.” I wish someone had said exactly those words to me in the beginning. (Of course knowing me, it probably wouldn’t have helped.) But, that was it. It captured exactly what I had not been able to put into words. I HAD to show up for work with very few exceptions during this time, and when that was done my tank was empty. There was nothing left for life or even Brayden on most days. I am so blessed to have such a strong and independent little man in the making. Oh, and there’s the Wii…Thank you, God for the Wii! It did wonders to entertain when I could not.
So, I counted and it’s actually been 7 months since my surgery as of next week. Wow! I guess I can honestly say that I have completed the most difficult 7 months of my life to date. I’d like to say they will be the most difficult that I will face in this lifetime, but I don’t make statements like that anymore.
I am marking the end of that time not because I am all better, but because I have decided that it’s finally time to begin coming back to life. I still can’t do most of the things that I used to. I went to our church’s leadership conference 3 evenings this past week. Just being able to walk from the car to the building at the expansive main campus after a full day of work is an incredible feat that involved a bunch of prayer. But, I did it! I spent all day Saturday recovering from it. (It was worth it, even if I did have to watch curling all afternoon.) What an amazing few evenings!
But, my greatest physical accomplishment since the end of chemo was Sunday after church. For the very first time since November I went grocery shopping for my very own groceries. Before now, I have been unable to do it because I couldn’t walk far enough to even make it to the milk, much less all around the store for the things I needed. Fortunately, Bird has been volunteering to do it for me. (That’s a great testimony for staying friends with your ex-husband…) So, we haven’t starved or anything.
It was probably the single best grocery shopping experience of my life. I say that because I have always detested grocery shopping. I love having a house full of groceries, but hate the shopping to get them part. It’s amazing what appreciation you can have for something you detest once you can no longer do it for yourself.
When I got to the store, I had not completely committed to a full grocery trip. When I made it to the milk without thinking about it, I decided to push through and cover the entire store. End to end I went and covered my entire mental list. When I got back to the car, buckled Brayden in, and pulled away I couldn’t believe what I had just done. It was then that I decided the time had come to rejoin the land of the living.
Today I actually chose to take the stairs at work for two different trips to other floors, down and up. I wouldn’t have even considered doing that a week ago. It was difficult. The second trip was more than I probably should have tried, but I did it. So, I am looking for that little opportunity each day to push myself a little further. One more step into recovery, into life.
Coming back to life feels good, physically and mentally. I am reminded daily to “give thanks in all things”, even if those things are the mundane ones like stocking up on groceries. So, I am attacking life again with the spirit of thanksgiving despite less than perfect circumstances. Because in the end, I have much more to give thanks for than to complain about.
Everyone knows chemo takes a toll on you. You just don’t realize how much until you go through it. I spoke with my breast surgeon’s nurse practitioner yesterday to schedule my follow-up. She asked how I was, and I told her how difficult it had been. She said something kind of profound. She said, “When you go through what you’ve been through, you have to decide what you’re going to show up for. And, it can’t be everything.” I wish someone had said exactly those words to me in the beginning. (Of course knowing me, it probably wouldn’t have helped.) But, that was it. It captured exactly what I had not been able to put into words. I HAD to show up for work with very few exceptions during this time, and when that was done my tank was empty. There was nothing left for life or even Brayden on most days. I am so blessed to have such a strong and independent little man in the making. Oh, and there’s the Wii…Thank you, God for the Wii! It did wonders to entertain when I could not.
So, I counted and it’s actually been 7 months since my surgery as of next week. Wow! I guess I can honestly say that I have completed the most difficult 7 months of my life to date. I’d like to say they will be the most difficult that I will face in this lifetime, but I don’t make statements like that anymore.
I am marking the end of that time not because I am all better, but because I have decided that it’s finally time to begin coming back to life. I still can’t do most of the things that I used to. I went to our church’s leadership conference 3 evenings this past week. Just being able to walk from the car to the building at the expansive main campus after a full day of work is an incredible feat that involved a bunch of prayer. But, I did it! I spent all day Saturday recovering from it. (It was worth it, even if I did have to watch curling all afternoon.) What an amazing few evenings!
But, my greatest physical accomplishment since the end of chemo was Sunday after church. For the very first time since November I went grocery shopping for my very own groceries. Before now, I have been unable to do it because I couldn’t walk far enough to even make it to the milk, much less all around the store for the things I needed. Fortunately, Bird has been volunteering to do it for me. (That’s a great testimony for staying friends with your ex-husband…) So, we haven’t starved or anything.
It was probably the single best grocery shopping experience of my life. I say that because I have always detested grocery shopping. I love having a house full of groceries, but hate the shopping to get them part. It’s amazing what appreciation you can have for something you detest once you can no longer do it for yourself.
When I got to the store, I had not completely committed to a full grocery trip. When I made it to the milk without thinking about it, I decided to push through and cover the entire store. End to end I went and covered my entire mental list. When I got back to the car, buckled Brayden in, and pulled away I couldn’t believe what I had just done. It was then that I decided the time had come to rejoin the land of the living.
Today I actually chose to take the stairs at work for two different trips to other floors, down and up. I wouldn’t have even considered doing that a week ago. It was difficult. The second trip was more than I probably should have tried, but I did it. So, I am looking for that little opportunity each day to push myself a little further. One more step into recovery, into life.
Coming back to life feels good, physically and mentally. I am reminded daily to “give thanks in all things”, even if those things are the mundane ones like stocking up on groceries. So, I am attacking life again with the spirit of thanksgiving despite less than perfect circumstances. Because in the end, I have much more to give thanks for than to complain about.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The Mustard Seed
It's been an eternity since I have been here to post an entry. So much has changed and yet, nothing has. It's hard to explain. Things have gotten exponentially more difficult with the recovery from chemo, but it's officially over. Friday I had the last round of the nasty stuff. It's a relief, but has wrecked me physically since then. I have been in bed the majority of the time and can't really do much for myself at all. Mom is taking care of Brayden at her house and I just rest under my electric blanket. It has been the only thing that seems to take the edge off the aching of my entire body. The exhaustion is unexplainable at this point. It means that I am unable to do so many things. I look normal, but can't walk 50 yards without sitting down. It's hard to explain to people. I think 1/2 of them think I'm making it up because it's so severe but you can't see it. I actually look pretty normal with the exception of the kiwi-like head of mine. My hair is growing back a little...just enough to look exactly like a kiwi.
I have a lot of support with friends and family and that helps immensely. But, I can't help but feel weary from the whole thing. My carpool buddies now drop me off at the door because I can't walk from the car to the door anymore at work. Brayden is dying to go to Walmart and spend his $30 of gift cards from Christmas, but we can't because I can't walk through the store. By the time we got from the car to the shopping carts I would need somewhere to sit down.
This is also the first time that I have had so much trouble with the nausea. I haven't been sick, but the nausea is always there, even with the drugs. So, all of the physical symptoms are much worse than before. I'm doing OK from a psychological standpoint though and that's a welcome change.
I haven't blogged in over a month for more than one reason. One obvious one is that I just haven't had the energy to get on the computer when I get home from work. I work so far away from home that I have to spend 2-3 hours in the car each day for my commute. So, a normal work week translates into 60 hours with the commute. Add in a little chemo...no way you can do anything but fall out at the end of the day. But, that wasn't all that was going on. This whole experience had taken a toll on me emotionally. The last month has been the absolute hardest of all. Those days were dark ones and I don't even want to try to describe them. Needless to say, I made it through thanks to a scripture, the memory of a charm, and a gift from my boy.
I have a lot of support with friends and family and that helps immensely. But, I can't help but feel weary from the whole thing. My carpool buddies now drop me off at the door because I can't walk from the car to the door anymore at work. Brayden is dying to go to Walmart and spend his $30 of gift cards from Christmas, but we can't because I can't walk through the store. By the time we got from the car to the shopping carts I would need somewhere to sit down.
This is also the first time that I have had so much trouble with the nausea. I haven't been sick, but the nausea is always there, even with the drugs. So, all of the physical symptoms are much worse than before. I'm doing OK from a psychological standpoint though and that's a welcome change.
I haven't blogged in over a month for more than one reason. One obvious one is that I just haven't had the energy to get on the computer when I get home from work. I work so far away from home that I have to spend 2-3 hours in the car each day for my commute. So, a normal work week translates into 60 hours with the commute. Add in a little chemo...no way you can do anything but fall out at the end of the day. But, that wasn't all that was going on. This whole experience had taken a toll on me emotionally. The last month has been the absolute hardest of all. Those days were dark ones and I don't even want to try to describe them. Needless to say, I made it through thanks to a scripture, the memory of a charm, and a gift from my boy.
When I was a girl, my mother had a charm bracelet with a ton of charms from all of these places she had been and things that she did before I was born. I used to ask her to tell me about each of them sometimes when she wore it. I was always interested in this “life” she had before I was born. It seemed kind of mysterious. I mean what could she possibly have been doing before me?? Right? That’s so funny to me now that I’m a mom. Brayden can’t get the concept either. He still can’t figure out how his dad knows his aunts and uncles because he’s never seem them together. He can’t get past the fact that his dad was part of our family for over 10 years before he was born.
Anyway, buried between those charms from exciting places like West Virginia and Six Flags over Texas was one that I loved. I remember the first time that I saw it. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was. It was a little glass sphere that had this tiny round beige thing rolling around in it. It wasn’t any larger than the head of a pin. Finding that instantly intriguing, I asked her what in the world it was. That was the first time she shared with me the story of the mustard seed.
Mom told me that Jesus said that if we had even the faith of a mustard seed that we could move mountains. Even as a small child that spoke to me. It was tangible. I could see how little that was. It was so small, yet a mountain is SO big. How powerful our faith must be! I never forgot that.
Over the years that charm went missing. We don’t have any idea what happened to it. Mom has divided up the charms now. Michelle has some, I have some. But that one never resurfaced. I mourned that when it first happened, but had actually forgotten about it. Then came December this year.
This was by far the hardest holiday season ever. I've known people who struggle through the holidays. I know many have good reasons that the holiday season is hard. I have just never been one of them. Christmas in my family has always been a time that we look forward to and enjoy as the best time of the year. That's not to say they've always been perfect...We do have the year Nate dropped the Nikon, the year John ran away, the year I got my wisdom teeth pulled and permanently scarred my sister...Let's skip that story. Anyway, this year was different.
By Christmas, I was through round 5 of the chemo and not bouncing back. Christmas morning fell exactly one week after that round and with my immune system went a lot of other things. Emotionally, spiritually, and psychologically drained I wasn't looking forward to it and couldn't even fathom excitement for the new year. How could I have any? For the first time I just wanted to give up, check out, and quit the fight. After all, the whole year ahead is still all about the stupid cancer! I have treatment until September 17th, then I have to wait 60 days and have finial reconstruction in December 2010. So, I was facing Christmas with completely the wrong attitude and no hope for good things in the new year. It was the lowest of lows.
That changed a bit on Christmas morning. Brayden had gone shopping with Mom and was very excited about the gift that he had for me. I hadn't asked for anything this year, so I had no expectations. Now every mom loves a gift from their child. But like so many times before, he was about to bless me more than I could have imagined. His gift was a necklace. If you didn't know what it was, you'd never have a clue about the significance. But, I knew instantly. It was the outline of a small silver heart on a delicate chain, and encased in transparent center was a mustard seed.
It was exactly what I needed. With that I was reminded of how even a minuscule amount of our faith can do mighty things. At that point, it's about all I had. But, it was enough. Things are getting better, slowly. Each day is one more day past the last chemo, one day stronger, one day closer to recovery. And when I lose sight of that, I have a great little reminder hanging around my neck prompting me to go on and to rest in the reassurance that plans bigger than mine are unfolding. I just have to have faith.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Tying a Knot
I am figuring out about now that this cancer thing isn’t a sprint. It’s a marathon. I knew that, but I wasn’t really living it until now. I guess in my mind I thought I would be different. Sure they know how others have reacted to this chemo thing, but I really was beginning to believe that I was going to set some new standard of ability to withstand the poison. Yeah, not true. I always think things like that. Always challenging myself to set some new standard, no matter how ridiculous.
The last two weeks have been long ones. No surprise, I took the new mammogram recommendation hard. It wasn’t just that though. That announcement happened to coincide with other events at work that really threw me for a loop. I spent about a week questioning my value in many arenas. Compound that with the fact that I had my 4th round of chemo 2 days before Thanksgiving, and it wasn’t pretty. So, I have been down for the count a good portion of that time.
The truth is that the greatest difficulty with chemo is the fatigue. I spent all this time worried about throwing up and that hasn’t happened once! They told me that the fatigue was cumulative. I heard them, but I wasn’t really listening. Then, I got through the first two rounds and believed that I wasn’t really going to feel it. I was so wrong! It’s all that I can do to get through the workday. My body aches and the smallest physical activity is exhausting. Just walking from the car to the front door at work makes my legs hurt incredibly. It’s not even far! I’ve done it hundreds of times before without a thought, taking for granted that I had the capability. Well, not anymore. Now the door kind of feels like a desert oasis that keeps inching a little further away with every step when in reality it’s maybe a 150 yards away to begin with. That's crazy and really hard to believe, even when it's happening to me. So when I make it home, it’s all that I can do to prepare for the next day. When Friday comes, I know I will have a couple of days to recover so that I can do it all again.
Another thing that wears on you over time is the bloody nose. It’s one of the things you don’t know or think about until you go through this. Before I had cancer, I never realized that when you lost your hair you lost basically all of it. That includes all of your nose hair. Guess what? You NEED nose hair. It actually serves a really good purpose. You miss it when you don’t have it! I have sinus trouble anyway because of allergies. Now that it’s time to turn on the heater in the house, that gets worse because there’s no humidity. So sinus + heater + chemo = bloody nose at any time. Sitting at my desk with a Kleenex shoved up my nose is a completely normal occurrence now. That, and a compulsive use of hand sanitizer.
For now, I'm just trying to tie a knot and hang on at the end of my rope. Fortunately, I have help. Thank you for all of the prayers and encouraging words. I need every one of them. I have always know that "The Lord is my strength.". But, it means something completely different to me now. I've never thought of it as physical strength. I guess because I've never been physically challenged before. Now I have. And, now I know that it's completely true. I just can't make it any other way.
The last two weeks have been long ones. No surprise, I took the new mammogram recommendation hard. It wasn’t just that though. That announcement happened to coincide with other events at work that really threw me for a loop. I spent about a week questioning my value in many arenas. Compound that with the fact that I had my 4th round of chemo 2 days before Thanksgiving, and it wasn’t pretty. So, I have been down for the count a good portion of that time.
The truth is that the greatest difficulty with chemo is the fatigue. I spent all this time worried about throwing up and that hasn’t happened once! They told me that the fatigue was cumulative. I heard them, but I wasn’t really listening. Then, I got through the first two rounds and believed that I wasn’t really going to feel it. I was so wrong! It’s all that I can do to get through the workday. My body aches and the smallest physical activity is exhausting. Just walking from the car to the front door at work makes my legs hurt incredibly. It’s not even far! I’ve done it hundreds of times before without a thought, taking for granted that I had the capability. Well, not anymore. Now the door kind of feels like a desert oasis that keeps inching a little further away with every step when in reality it’s maybe a 150 yards away to begin with. That's crazy and really hard to believe, even when it's happening to me. So when I make it home, it’s all that I can do to prepare for the next day. When Friday comes, I know I will have a couple of days to recover so that I can do it all again.
Another thing that wears on you over time is the bloody nose. It’s one of the things you don’t know or think about until you go through this. Before I had cancer, I never realized that when you lost your hair you lost basically all of it. That includes all of your nose hair. Guess what? You NEED nose hair. It actually serves a really good purpose. You miss it when you don’t have it! I have sinus trouble anyway because of allergies. Now that it’s time to turn on the heater in the house, that gets worse because there’s no humidity. So sinus + heater + chemo = bloody nose at any time. Sitting at my desk with a Kleenex shoved up my nose is a completely normal occurrence now. That, and a compulsive use of hand sanitizer.
For now, I'm just trying to tie a knot and hang on at the end of my rope. Fortunately, I have help. Thank you for all of the prayers and encouraging words. I need every one of them. I have always know that "The Lord is my strength.". But, it means something completely different to me now. I've never thought of it as physical strength. I guess because I've never been physically challenged before. Now I have. And, now I know that it's completely true. I just can't make it any other way.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The Verdict Is In...Lives Expendable
I am in complete disbelief about the new healthcare guidelines issued today for mammograms. It's a hard pill to swallow when you find out that the value placed on your life is less than a few hundred dollars. I was so bothered by today’s news that I did something that I have never done before. I fired off a rather lengthy letter to the editor of Dallas Morning News. Of course, the likelihood if it getting published is slim, but I was overwhelmed with the consequences this decision will have for women all over this country. Mark your calendars. It won’t be on the news, but lives were lost today. I cried for the boys and girls that will lose their mother because she thought she was safe and decided to wait until 50, but never makes it. I cried for the women that will know they need it, but won't be able to pay out of pocket. So, they too will die. If there is one single woman that you know and love, send this to her. Send it to the men you know that have women they love. Send it to everyone you know that needs to hear it. People just don’t know the truth. I didn’t until it happened to me. It might take 2 minutes to read, but I know it will save lives. Here's my story and what I had to say:
From: Birlew, Yvette
Sent: Tuesday, November 17, 2009 03:47 PM
To: 'letterstoeditor@dallasnews.com'
Subject: Expendable Lives
June 29, 2009 I left work early to get a much overdue mammogram. I wasn't worried about it because in my mind I shouldn't even have to be doing it. I wasn't even 40. But my doctor insisted, so I went. It had been over 2 years since I’d had one. (They found some “harmless” calcifications when I had my original baseline at 35.) I went back for a 6 month follow-up a couple of times. Then I made the decision that I didn’t need to go anymore, at least until I was 40.
This trip to the mammogram place was different. I went in at 2:00 and walked out a little after 5:00, 9 films, 2 sonograms, and a probable diagnosis of breast cancer later. I also got an appointment for a biopsy. It was a full afternoon. Since then, nothing has been the same.
One of the most unbelievable parts of it all is this: 80% of all Breast Cancer occurs in Women with NO Family History of the disease. Some quote a higher percentage, some slightly less, but it’s right there around 80%. No mothers, no sisters, no cousins, no grandmothers. They call it sporadic. Now, I am that statistic. Who knew? I think if more women knew that, they'd never miss a mammogram. I certainly wouldn't have. I had heard so much about having a family history or genetic predisposition that it never occurred to me that I was at risk. No one in my family has ever had it, and I do not have either of the BRCA genes. Besides, isn’t that something that happens to women who are older than I am? That’s what I thought. It isn’t always true.
Since this diagnosis I have spoken to many people about breast cancer. Many tell me all about the frequency of their self-exams. It’s very good that women are doing those, but that is not enough. Don’t assume that because you feel nothing that you are okay. I couldn’t feel mine. My OB-GYN couldn’t feel mine. The people at the mammogram place couldn’t feel mine. Not even my breast surgeon could feel mine. Because of its location it was hidden away like a pipe bomb ready to secretly grow, flourish, and one day take my life. We found it with a mammogram. It really is that simple.
I happen to have a type of breast cancer that is so aggressive that my prognosis could have been quite different if it had the time to grow to a size you could feel. Thankfully, that is not the case. Now thanks to a bilateral mastectomy combined with reconstruction, I have a great prognosis. I will live to raise my young son. To be sure, we are waging war with chemo and adjuvant therapy. A year from now, it should be over. My hair will be growing back, my life returning to normal. Then I will join the ranks of the breast cancer survivors. Too many others won’t have the same outcome.
Now to my horror, I find that a government advisory panel has decided that women like me aren’t worth saving. My government believes that my life is expendable and so are all of the other lives of women who are diagnosed under the age of 50. “Statistically speaking” it isn’t worth the cost of the testing. Really? Tell that to my 5 year old son. Explain to other boys and girls like him that the numbers just didn’t work anymore. Let’s let the people on the advisory panel do that job personally. They can look into the eyes of those children and share that news.
They have justified their reasoning with the fact that some women mistakenly thought temporarily that they might have “it” and were distressed by having a biopsy. Have we grown that stupid as a country? Are we completely asleep at the wheel? Are we going to let them use a statement like that to dictate life and death decisions about our healthcare? Shouldn’t the doctors have a say? After all, I owe my life to my OB-GYN. He made me go. He wanted to be sure. I went because I trust him and my insurance paid for it. Today they say that this recommendation won’t affect our insurance coverage. I don’t believe that. Insurance companies are not in the habit of paying for things without encouragement. Soon, they won’t have to pay for these mammograms either.
This disease touches so many lives, and it takes far more than it should. Because of this new guideline many more will die. That will happen with or without changes in our insurance coverage because women will think it’s safe not to go. Some of them made that decision today. They don’t know it, but today some of them decided to die. They feel more confident that it won’t happen to them. The advisory panel said so. It must be true. Besides, it hurts and it’s embarrassing.
No one wants to do it. But, there is only one way to be sure. Get a mammogram. Pick up the phone and make the appointment. Make today the day that you decide to be sure. No one like me thinks it will happen to them, but 80% of the cases are just like me.
Yvette Birlew
Murphy, TX
From: Birlew, Yvette
Sent: Tuesday, November 17, 2009 03:47 PM
To: 'letterstoeditor@dallasnews.com'
Subject: Expendable Lives
June 29, 2009 I left work early to get a much overdue mammogram. I wasn't worried about it because in my mind I shouldn't even have to be doing it. I wasn't even 40. But my doctor insisted, so I went. It had been over 2 years since I’d had one. (They found some “harmless” calcifications when I had my original baseline at 35.) I went back for a 6 month follow-up a couple of times. Then I made the decision that I didn’t need to go anymore, at least until I was 40.
This trip to the mammogram place was different. I went in at 2:00 and walked out a little after 5:00, 9 films, 2 sonograms, and a probable diagnosis of breast cancer later. I also got an appointment for a biopsy. It was a full afternoon. Since then, nothing has been the same.
One of the most unbelievable parts of it all is this: 80% of all Breast Cancer occurs in Women with NO Family History of the disease. Some quote a higher percentage, some slightly less, but it’s right there around 80%. No mothers, no sisters, no cousins, no grandmothers. They call it sporadic. Now, I am that statistic. Who knew? I think if more women knew that, they'd never miss a mammogram. I certainly wouldn't have. I had heard so much about having a family history or genetic predisposition that it never occurred to me that I was at risk. No one in my family has ever had it, and I do not have either of the BRCA genes. Besides, isn’t that something that happens to women who are older than I am? That’s what I thought. It isn’t always true.
Since this diagnosis I have spoken to many people about breast cancer. Many tell me all about the frequency of their self-exams. It’s very good that women are doing those, but that is not enough. Don’t assume that because you feel nothing that you are okay. I couldn’t feel mine. My OB-GYN couldn’t feel mine. The people at the mammogram place couldn’t feel mine. Not even my breast surgeon could feel mine. Because of its location it was hidden away like a pipe bomb ready to secretly grow, flourish, and one day take my life. We found it with a mammogram. It really is that simple.
I happen to have a type of breast cancer that is so aggressive that my prognosis could have been quite different if it had the time to grow to a size you could feel. Thankfully, that is not the case. Now thanks to a bilateral mastectomy combined with reconstruction, I have a great prognosis. I will live to raise my young son. To be sure, we are waging war with chemo and adjuvant therapy. A year from now, it should be over. My hair will be growing back, my life returning to normal. Then I will join the ranks of the breast cancer survivors. Too many others won’t have the same outcome.
Now to my horror, I find that a government advisory panel has decided that women like me aren’t worth saving. My government believes that my life is expendable and so are all of the other lives of women who are diagnosed under the age of 50. “Statistically speaking” it isn’t worth the cost of the testing. Really? Tell that to my 5 year old son. Explain to other boys and girls like him that the numbers just didn’t work anymore. Let’s let the people on the advisory panel do that job personally. They can look into the eyes of those children and share that news.
They have justified their reasoning with the fact that some women mistakenly thought temporarily that they might have “it” and were distressed by having a biopsy. Have we grown that stupid as a country? Are we completely asleep at the wheel? Are we going to let them use a statement like that to dictate life and death decisions about our healthcare? Shouldn’t the doctors have a say? After all, I owe my life to my OB-GYN. He made me go. He wanted to be sure. I went because I trust him and my insurance paid for it. Today they say that this recommendation won’t affect our insurance coverage. I don’t believe that. Insurance companies are not in the habit of paying for things without encouragement. Soon, they won’t have to pay for these mammograms either.
This disease touches so many lives, and it takes far more than it should. Because of this new guideline many more will die. That will happen with or without changes in our insurance coverage because women will think it’s safe not to go. Some of them made that decision today. They don’t know it, but today some of them decided to die. They feel more confident that it won’t happen to them. The advisory panel said so. It must be true. Besides, it hurts and it’s embarrassing.
No one wants to do it. But, there is only one way to be sure. Get a mammogram. Pick up the phone and make the appointment. Make today the day that you decide to be sure. No one like me thinks it will happen to them, but 80% of the cases are just like me.
Yvette Birlew
Murphy, TX
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Confident Assurance
What a tough week! Did you know that if you have chemo on a Friday and get exposed to Strep you can get pretty sick? I've spent almost the entire last week in bed. I missed 4.5 days of work. That's enough to be a vacation if I hadn't spent it in bed, missed the top secret unveiling of our year long project at work, and had to skip out on our President's Awards Banquet Weekend. So, the price of being sick was missing out on a bunch of things that I had been looking forward to. But, that's OK because everything happens for a reason. I have faith in that.
Friday when I woke up I flipped my "365 Days of Wisdom for Moms" calendar to Friday, November 13th and landed on this, "Faith is the confident assurance that what we hope for is going to happen." That's Hebrews 11:1, if you're wondering... It got me thinking. How wonderful is that?? Confident assurance... I love that and I have faith in SO many things. So, I've decided to share a few of those...big and small.
One of the small ones is that I have faith that eventually my son will learn to flush the toilet. For now it's like living with a potty-trained cat. He just leaves "presents" in every toilet in the house. Why is that hard???? How do you lose focus between finishing your business and reaching for the handle?? We talk about it all of the time. It's not doing any good yet. But, I have faith that eventually it will.
I also have faith that eventually he will color. This distresses Mom. She's trying to spark the interest so he's not behind in "coloring in the lines" when he goes to school. I'm not worried about that. Turns out both Michelle and I can color in the lines with very little effort. So, she's got a 100% track record. I have faith that she will succeed again. Thanks for taking care of that, Mom.
Then there's the big ones...One of the BIG ones is that I have faith in is the life changing power of scripture. This is SO key to having peace in my life. Without it, I would never have any. My nature is so negative. People that knew me years ago could tell you that. I always had a lot to say, but it was not about building people up. I was usually complaining about something or someone. But, it doesn't have to be that way. And, I don't live that way anymore. No matter what the problem, there's a scripture for that. So, God has something to say about just about EVERYTHING. And, if we just take the time to remember that, we can have what we need to get through it. So, here's just two of my favorites and why they matter to me.
I've already shared this one, Romans 8:28 "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." That' s one of my favorite scriptures because I have faced many things that would have seemed unbearable or would have broken me for good if I didn't have faith in the fact that I just can't see His plan. Those blueprints aren't made for human eyes.
It's like those pictures that we've all seen where you think you're looking at a picture of something, but it's actually a giant collage of thousands of little pictures of other seemingly unrelated things that have been selected for the color that they add to build the bigger one. I think of God's plan as a cosmic-sized collage where each of us lives in just one of those pictures. We're never going to know in this life the extent of how our lives have affected others for good or for bad or exactly how He's used that. We get glimpses of it, but not full knowledge.
So, good and bad things are working together for our good in our little picture. Please understand I'm not saying that God is responsible for the bad things that happen to us. I'm not saying that. I have, however, seen him use bad things that have already happened to me for good. This cancer is one of them. Some days I see the bad. But, most days I can take a step back and see how much of a blessing it has been. And I certainly don't blame God for my stupid cancer. I just know that he's got the blueprints, I'm not in charge, and it will all be used for good as long as I'm focused on His purpose for my life. That's confident assurance.
Another one is 1 Corinthians 10:13, "No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." This one has been so important to me for so many things. It had helped me through throwing off more than one bad habit, behavior, or vice. I love this one for many many reasons.
One is the realization that our temptations aren't anything that isn't common to man. Turns out we're NOT special in this regard. TONS of other people have been there. So whatever we battle, we need to get it out of our heads that our situation is more difficult than other people's. It's just not. "But you just don't understand...mine's different..." NO, it isn't! Says so right here in the Bible. That's a cop-out! Now, that's a little tough love/slap in the face. That part took me a little while to digest. If you're the same, just attack it one little bite at a time. But, once we "get" that, the message gets SO much better.
The next three words I camp on and know to be so true. God is faithful. That means that no matter what, He's going to be there. Faithful to the best of God's ability, not the human version of faithful. Since He's perfect, so is his faithfulness. There's never going to be a time when he won't be. If you think about that for a while, it is AMAZING. It means no doubt on this point, period. God is faithful.
Add to that... He won't let us be tempted beyond what we can bear. It may seem like it to you now, but once you focus on the fact that your temptations aren't special and you completely get his faithfulness, it changes. It becomes pretty easy to see that you CAN bear it with His ever-faithful help. Then, it's just a matter of looking for the escape hatch. Because it also tells us that he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it. How cool is that?!? Not special, always faithful, not more than you can handle, always a way out. He's going to give us an option that doesn't involve choosing poorly or toughing it out on our own.
So, how to execute that one in a bad situation? It's like being a situational-spiritual MacGyver. I say MacGyver because you're going to have to work fast in most of these situations to get out without making the wrong decision out of reflex. And, not succeeding can have dire consequences. So, here's the steps:
Friday when I woke up I flipped my "365 Days of Wisdom for Moms" calendar to Friday, November 13th and landed on this, "Faith is the confident assurance that what we hope for is going to happen." That's Hebrews 11:1, if you're wondering... It got me thinking. How wonderful is that?? Confident assurance... I love that and I have faith in SO many things. So, I've decided to share a few of those...big and small.
One of the small ones is that I have faith that eventually my son will learn to flush the toilet. For now it's like living with a potty-trained cat. He just leaves "presents" in every toilet in the house. Why is that hard???? How do you lose focus between finishing your business and reaching for the handle?? We talk about it all of the time. It's not doing any good yet. But, I have faith that eventually it will.
I also have faith that eventually he will color. This distresses Mom. She's trying to spark the interest so he's not behind in "coloring in the lines" when he goes to school. I'm not worried about that. Turns out both Michelle and I can color in the lines with very little effort. So, she's got a 100% track record. I have faith that she will succeed again. Thanks for taking care of that, Mom.
Then there's the big ones...One of the BIG ones is that I have faith in is the life changing power of scripture. This is SO key to having peace in my life. Without it, I would never have any. My nature is so negative. People that knew me years ago could tell you that. I always had a lot to say, but it was not about building people up. I was usually complaining about something or someone. But, it doesn't have to be that way. And, I don't live that way anymore. No matter what the problem, there's a scripture for that. So, God has something to say about just about EVERYTHING. And, if we just take the time to remember that, we can have what we need to get through it. So, here's just two of my favorites and why they matter to me.
I've already shared this one, Romans 8:28 "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." That' s one of my favorite scriptures because I have faced many things that would have seemed unbearable or would have broken me for good if I didn't have faith in the fact that I just can't see His plan. Those blueprints aren't made for human eyes.
It's like those pictures that we've all seen where you think you're looking at a picture of something, but it's actually a giant collage of thousands of little pictures of other seemingly unrelated things that have been selected for the color that they add to build the bigger one. I think of God's plan as a cosmic-sized collage where each of us lives in just one of those pictures. We're never going to know in this life the extent of how our lives have affected others for good or for bad or exactly how He's used that. We get glimpses of it, but not full knowledge.
So, good and bad things are working together for our good in our little picture. Please understand I'm not saying that God is responsible for the bad things that happen to us. I'm not saying that. I have, however, seen him use bad things that have already happened to me for good. This cancer is one of them. Some days I see the bad. But, most days I can take a step back and see how much of a blessing it has been. And I certainly don't blame God for my stupid cancer. I just know that he's got the blueprints, I'm not in charge, and it will all be used for good as long as I'm focused on His purpose for my life. That's confident assurance.
Another one is 1 Corinthians 10:13, "No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." This one has been so important to me for so many things. It had helped me through throwing off more than one bad habit, behavior, or vice. I love this one for many many reasons.
One is the realization that our temptations aren't anything that isn't common to man. Turns out we're NOT special in this regard. TONS of other people have been there. So whatever we battle, we need to get it out of our heads that our situation is more difficult than other people's. It's just not. "But you just don't understand...mine's different..." NO, it isn't! Says so right here in the Bible. That's a cop-out! Now, that's a little tough love/slap in the face. That part took me a little while to digest. If you're the same, just attack it one little bite at a time. But, once we "get" that, the message gets SO much better.
The next three words I camp on and know to be so true. God is faithful. That means that no matter what, He's going to be there. Faithful to the best of God's ability, not the human version of faithful. Since He's perfect, so is his faithfulness. There's never going to be a time when he won't be. If you think about that for a while, it is AMAZING. It means no doubt on this point, period. God is faithful.
Add to that... He won't let us be tempted beyond what we can bear. It may seem like it to you now, but once you focus on the fact that your temptations aren't special and you completely get his faithfulness, it changes. It becomes pretty easy to see that you CAN bear it with His ever-faithful help. Then, it's just a matter of looking for the escape hatch. Because it also tells us that he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it. How cool is that?!? Not special, always faithful, not more than you can handle, always a way out. He's going to give us an option that doesn't involve choosing poorly or toughing it out on our own.
So, how to execute that one in a bad situation? It's like being a situational-spiritual MacGyver. I say MacGyver because you're going to have to work fast in most of these situations to get out without making the wrong decision out of reflex. And, not succeeding can have dire consequences. So, here's the steps:
- Quickly take in the situation and remember what you know. No temptation has seized you except what is common to man.
- Be confident in your ever-present help. God is FAITHFUL, and this is NOT more than I can bear.
- Then look for the escape hatch. He's promised us one. If you don't see it immediately, pray for it. For me that usually sounded like this, "I need you to show me the way out because right now ____________ is looking like a good idea and I know that you have an escape plan for me. Show me the hatch!"
Once you have a couple successful experiences like that, you'll have confident assurance in that as well. That's not to say that my track record has always been perfect. It's a battle after all. In the beginning I lost more than I won. But using this focus and verse over time has given me the eye for the escape hatch every time. In fact, a bunch of things that I used to be tempted by aren't even a passing thought for me now. And the funny thing is that now I can see how even those experiences are being used for my good. Thank you, Jesus for always meeting me where I am and bringing what only you know I need with you. That's truly my greatest confident assurance.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Halftime
Well, I celebrated my 40th birthday yesterday. It was not what I expected it to be this summer when I was planning to have a 40th girls weekend somewhere. That was before the whole cancer mess. It's funny how we plan things and they never seem to turn out like we thought. I have waited with anticipation for things that were quite the letdown. And, I have had an enjoyable experience at more than one thing I wasn't looking forward to attending. Besides, we're going to have that weekend at a later date, and we'll have much more to celebrate than just a birthday.
I did have a wonderful dinner with some great ladies on Wednesday night to celebrate. What a delightful surprise it was to see friends that I haven't seen in ages and enjoy a fabulous meal. I even got to go to the Stars game this weekend. Then, we had a wonderful birthday lunch yesterday with the family. So, as far as birthdays go, it was a good one by any standard...with a little chemo thrown in for giggles.
You just never know what's around the corner. And as much as that sounds scary, it's also what makes life great. So, Sunday was my birthday, but Friday was the event. Friday I had my third round of chemo. I can't believe how quickly the time has flown by. I'm halfway there! Of course there's a bunch more other treatments and another surgery to follow, but for the hardest part, it's halftime.
Time to regroup, get ready, and prepare for the second half. Things have gone pretty well so far. I tolerated the first three rounds much better than I thought I would. I haven't been sick once. So, the drugs that they have given me for the nausea are everything they promised they would be. For that I am SO thankful. I have also gotten a grip on the awful hormonal changes that were plaguing me.
I still have broken ovaries, but I'm not half insane with the trauma like I was before. I spoke with my doctor about it and there's no reason to think that I don't have a fair chance of things returning to normal once the chemo is over. So like my birthday, why would I be planning for a lifetime of something I can't predict? Thanks to all of you who've called or written because you were worried about me after my last post. And for all of the prayers, I am so thankful.
I was not dealing well and I know some of you were worried about me. I really meant to get back on here and post what was going on, but just haven't been able. I have been consumed with things at work and just too beat when I get home to get on the computer. The one thing that I hadn't quite anticipated was the exhaustion. They warned me about it and told me that it would be cumulative. They were right.
I went to get my Neulasta shot today before work. I was already tired before I even got out of bed, but I wasn't feeling too bad. So, I went in for my shot and then went on to work. I've been taking the Advil in the hopes of not having the terrible side effects that I did last time. We will see...So, the full effect of it all remains to be seen. Even so, I didn't make it through work today. I had to come home early and crawl into bed. It was just too much. I'm trying to not push myself, but I do. I don't really know how to do anything else. I wasn't expecting that I wouldn't make it, even though that's what they told me would happen. I always think that I can do more, like I'm proving something...
Anyway, Friday I decided to write down all of the medications that I was getting. See, it's not just the chemo. I actually get 2 chemos and 2 additional "designer" cancer drugs. But before that, they have to give you all of the other drugs that make it possible for you to tolerate those. There's 5 of those. Now, that doesn't count the ones that I have to take everyday anyway. There's 3 of those...plus the pre-chemo steroids, and the ones that you take afterwards to control the nausea and to sleep since the "roids" make that nearly impossible. The human body is quite the creation. It's amazing what we can withstand. I figured out that the number was 16. Sixteen drugs. No exaggeration. Good things that's only once every three weeks.
So, I guess I should cut myself some slack for missing a couple hours of work. It's bound to happen. And with a drug load like that, how could my body NOT have fatigue? That's the part that I am having to learn to live with. So if I don't return a phone call or forget to email you back, please forgive me. I literally just don't have the energy to remember. But I haven't forgotten that this is all temporary. I haven't forgotten that I am blessed, loved and forgiven. And, I'm trying to remember that I am human. So, I won't always have what it takes to push through. I am, however, gearing up for the second half. Because with support of my family, the prayers of my friends, and the grace of God I will make it through victoriously. I am counting on it, and I'm halfway there.
I did have a wonderful dinner with some great ladies on Wednesday night to celebrate. What a delightful surprise it was to see friends that I haven't seen in ages and enjoy a fabulous meal. I even got to go to the Stars game this weekend. Then, we had a wonderful birthday lunch yesterday with the family. So, as far as birthdays go, it was a good one by any standard...with a little chemo thrown in for giggles.
You just never know what's around the corner. And as much as that sounds scary, it's also what makes life great. So, Sunday was my birthday, but Friday was the event. Friday I had my third round of chemo. I can't believe how quickly the time has flown by. I'm halfway there! Of course there's a bunch more other treatments and another surgery to follow, but for the hardest part, it's halftime.
Time to regroup, get ready, and prepare for the second half. Things have gone pretty well so far. I tolerated the first three rounds much better than I thought I would. I haven't been sick once. So, the drugs that they have given me for the nausea are everything they promised they would be. For that I am SO thankful. I have also gotten a grip on the awful hormonal changes that were plaguing me.
I still have broken ovaries, but I'm not half insane with the trauma like I was before. I spoke with my doctor about it and there's no reason to think that I don't have a fair chance of things returning to normal once the chemo is over. So like my birthday, why would I be planning for a lifetime of something I can't predict? Thanks to all of you who've called or written because you were worried about me after my last post. And for all of the prayers, I am so thankful.
I was not dealing well and I know some of you were worried about me. I really meant to get back on here and post what was going on, but just haven't been able. I have been consumed with things at work and just too beat when I get home to get on the computer. The one thing that I hadn't quite anticipated was the exhaustion. They warned me about it and told me that it would be cumulative. They were right.
I went to get my Neulasta shot today before work. I was already tired before I even got out of bed, but I wasn't feeling too bad. So, I went in for my shot and then went on to work. I've been taking the Advil in the hopes of not having the terrible side effects that I did last time. We will see...So, the full effect of it all remains to be seen. Even so, I didn't make it through work today. I had to come home early and crawl into bed. It was just too much. I'm trying to not push myself, but I do. I don't really know how to do anything else. I wasn't expecting that I wouldn't make it, even though that's what they told me would happen. I always think that I can do more, like I'm proving something...
Anyway, Friday I decided to write down all of the medications that I was getting. See, it's not just the chemo. I actually get 2 chemos and 2 additional "designer" cancer drugs. But before that, they have to give you all of the other drugs that make it possible for you to tolerate those. There's 5 of those. Now, that doesn't count the ones that I have to take everyday anyway. There's 3 of those...plus the pre-chemo steroids, and the ones that you take afterwards to control the nausea and to sleep since the "roids" make that nearly impossible. The human body is quite the creation. It's amazing what we can withstand. I figured out that the number was 16. Sixteen drugs. No exaggeration. Good things that's only once every three weeks.
So, I guess I should cut myself some slack for missing a couple hours of work. It's bound to happen. And with a drug load like that, how could my body NOT have fatigue? That's the part that I am having to learn to live with. So if I don't return a phone call or forget to email you back, please forgive me. I literally just don't have the energy to remember. But I haven't forgotten that this is all temporary. I haven't forgotten that I am blessed, loved and forgiven. And, I'm trying to remember that I am human. So, I won't always have what it takes to push through. I am, however, gearing up for the second half. Because with support of my family, the prayers of my friends, and the grace of God I will make it through victoriously. I am counting on it, and I'm halfway there.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
My Breaking Point
It's been well over a week since I have even attempted to write about my experience. This past week has been much too hard to handle. I'm not myself, and nothing seems OK. I haven't attempted to put this into words because there aren't any that seem to fit. I can't pull the emotions together well enough to express it. Even so, I'm going to try.
Here's the thing, everyone has a breaking point. No matter how much you can handle, there's a point at which you just can't take any more. It's that point when you simply fall apart like shattered glass into what seems like thousands of tiny shards. I really didn't see this coming, but do you ever? The hardest blows I've taken in my life have all been a surprise, coming when I least expected it.
I handled this diagnosis quite well. I made the tough decision for my surgery in actual minutes without reservation, never looking back. I finally got a grip on the hair thing and now pick out my hair each day like an outfit. That's the hard part, right? Those things are the big ones. Or so I thought...
But this week I ran into a new wrinkle that has me completely undone. It seems that I have developed "chemo-pause". This lovely condition throws your body into all of the symptoms and realities of menopause regardless of your age. The chemo kills cancer, your white blood cells, your hair, and to add insult to injury, your ovaries. At 39 (for exactly 1 more week) that just seems impossible and unthinkable. Yet, for an entire week I've been waiting, hoping against hope that I would just start my stupid period like some teenage girl in "trouble" that just can't believe this is happening to her.
I spent Monday and Tuesday in a fog of tears. All I could think about was getting done with work so that I could be alone to fall apart. I didn't make it. So, I cried silently at my desk for most of both days. I still hadn't accepted that this is what was going on, even as I fought the stupid hot flashes. I even caught myself pressing my arms against my chest subconsciously looking for the tell-tale sensitivity that so often accompanies that time of the month. Why would I do that?? I don't even have my real boobs anymore. Even if I did have my period on the way it wouldn't affect my chest. That moment was devastating. It was the moment when I no longer felt like a woman at all.
Months of physical change collided with my definition of what it means to be a woman. And suddenly, I was an imposter. I guess I'll have to redefine that definition one of these days. So, here I sat with my 1/2 constructed boobs wearing a wig because I have no hair, a mouth full of sores so sensitive that I could barely talk, and a constantly running and bloodied nose. The combination was overwhelming. I was truly devastated. And then I got mad, really mad. For the first time in my life, I was mad at God. By the way, it's OK to get mad at Him sometimes. Turns out, He can handle it. And believe me, we've discussed it! It's not like He doesn't know anyway.
When you reach those moments in life, you really have only one choice. You can turn to Him, or away from Him. That's actually not a choice at all. But, so many people choose poorly when faced with that situation. I knew I wouldn't be one of them. But, I also knew that I needed help. So, I picked up the phone and asked for it. I called a couple of friends and told them what was going on between sobs and asked for prayer. I asked them to ask other people to pray as well. There is incredible power in the intercessory prayers of others. We have to pray for each other! By Thursday, the prayers were working. Thank you, thank you, thank you if you have prayed for me. If not, please do. I still desperately need it.
I'd love to say that I'm completely better now. But, that's just not true. Instead, I'm lost in the numbers again. 60% of the time this condition is permanent in women my age. 6 out of 10...I don't like that statistic. I can't tell you why it matters to me as much as it does when the other things haven't seemed to. I think it's cumulative like the chemo. None of these things individually is too much, but the combination packs quite the punch. So, I am praying for things to get better. I'm praying for understanding and the strength to get through. And I'm praying that there are better days ahead because these days are nearly unbearable.
Here's the thing, everyone has a breaking point. No matter how much you can handle, there's a point at which you just can't take any more. It's that point when you simply fall apart like shattered glass into what seems like thousands of tiny shards. I really didn't see this coming, but do you ever? The hardest blows I've taken in my life have all been a surprise, coming when I least expected it.
I handled this diagnosis quite well. I made the tough decision for my surgery in actual minutes without reservation, never looking back. I finally got a grip on the hair thing and now pick out my hair each day like an outfit. That's the hard part, right? Those things are the big ones. Or so I thought...
But this week I ran into a new wrinkle that has me completely undone. It seems that I have developed "chemo-pause". This lovely condition throws your body into all of the symptoms and realities of menopause regardless of your age. The chemo kills cancer, your white blood cells, your hair, and to add insult to injury, your ovaries. At 39 (for exactly 1 more week) that just seems impossible and unthinkable. Yet, for an entire week I've been waiting, hoping against hope that I would just start my stupid period like some teenage girl in "trouble" that just can't believe this is happening to her.
I spent Monday and Tuesday in a fog of tears. All I could think about was getting done with work so that I could be alone to fall apart. I didn't make it. So, I cried silently at my desk for most of both days. I still hadn't accepted that this is what was going on, even as I fought the stupid hot flashes. I even caught myself pressing my arms against my chest subconsciously looking for the tell-tale sensitivity that so often accompanies that time of the month. Why would I do that?? I don't even have my real boobs anymore. Even if I did have my period on the way it wouldn't affect my chest. That moment was devastating. It was the moment when I no longer felt like a woman at all.
Months of physical change collided with my definition of what it means to be a woman. And suddenly, I was an imposter. I guess I'll have to redefine that definition one of these days. So, here I sat with my 1/2 constructed boobs wearing a wig because I have no hair, a mouth full of sores so sensitive that I could barely talk, and a constantly running and bloodied nose. The combination was overwhelming. I was truly devastated. And then I got mad, really mad. For the first time in my life, I was mad at God. By the way, it's OK to get mad at Him sometimes. Turns out, He can handle it. And believe me, we've discussed it! It's not like He doesn't know anyway.
When you reach those moments in life, you really have only one choice. You can turn to Him, or away from Him. That's actually not a choice at all. But, so many people choose poorly when faced with that situation. I knew I wouldn't be one of them. But, I also knew that I needed help. So, I picked up the phone and asked for it. I called a couple of friends and told them what was going on between sobs and asked for prayer. I asked them to ask other people to pray as well. There is incredible power in the intercessory prayers of others. We have to pray for each other! By Thursday, the prayers were working. Thank you, thank you, thank you if you have prayed for me. If not, please do. I still desperately need it.
I'd love to say that I'm completely better now. But, that's just not true. Instead, I'm lost in the numbers again. 60% of the time this condition is permanent in women my age. 6 out of 10...I don't like that statistic. I can't tell you why it matters to me as much as it does when the other things haven't seemed to. I think it's cumulative like the chemo. None of these things individually is too much, but the combination packs quite the punch. So, I am praying for things to get better. I'm praying for understanding and the strength to get through. And I'm praying that there are better days ahead because these days are nearly unbearable.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Tips from the Trenches
I spend quite a bit of time on this blog talking about how the experience of cancer feels, what the emotional impact has been, and how it has influenced my life spiritually. All of those things are really important, but there are also just the plain, practical things that can help other people who are going through this just behind me, with me, or might have to deal with it in the future. This post is about those things.
Some of the best advice I ever got about breast cancer came from a wonderful woman that I have never met in person, but feel like I know because I got the idea for this blog from hers. A friend of hers that goes to my church sent me the link to her blog, and I read every word she ever typed about her really tough trip through this nasty disease. Today, I am happy to report that she is a survivor. Having the insight and guidance that she provided me was priceless. Thank you so much, Sheri! Her advice to me was this, "Don't get cancer." Unfortunately, it was too late for me on that one, but it did make me laugh.
The other piece of advice that she had for me was about the Neulasta (white count booster) shots. You see, chemo kills all of your fast splitting cells. Cancer cells are fast splitting so that's why it works on them. Well, so are your white blood cells and other things like you hair. Since it can't discriminate between good and bad cells, it kills all kinds. So, many times either because your count drops too low or as a preventative measure, you have to get these shots to boost your body's production of white blood cells. Since these cells are created in your bone marrow, a common side effect of the shot is bone pain. Take it from me, you DON'T want this. I spent my week this week dealing with it. Sheri struggled with this as well. He advice to me was to get pain medicine and take it BEFORE I had the shot.
That is GREAT advice. Here's my two cents to add to that. You don't necessarily need pain meds from your doctor. Advil did the job for me after the first round. I just didn't know it until I failed to do the same this time around. I had taken Advil every 6 hours for a full 2 days before the first shot for cramps. So, I was unknowingly treating myself for the shot 2 full days before I got the shot and 2 days after. Since I had no pain from it, I just thought I was having no effects. So, this time I didn't "pre-treat". The result was a very hard week that cost me a day of work and required prescription meds. Next time, I will begin taking the Advil 2 days before and through the day after like I accidentally did the first time. Then, I have the prescription only if I need it. I'm not going through that again. So, don't follow suit. Thank you, Sheri for the advice because I wouldn't have know why there was a difference without it.
One of the other things that made such a difference for me was something that Mom and I figured out all by ourselves the first week after surgery. When you have this surgery one of the most inconvenient things that you have to deal with right away is the stinkin' drains. These things are a complete nuisance, to put it nicely. So, you're cut up, medicated on opiates, and have 4 tubes with bulbs on the end of them hanging out of your body. Not fun. Then, they tell you to pin these things to your pj bottoms. You don't want them pinned to your shirt because they're gross, so you go ahead and pin them to your bottoms. And that's all just fine...until you have to pee.
So, since you're operating at a diminished capacity (reads: drugged out of your mind on narcotics), you forget that they are pinned to your pj's and tug away at them by mistake when attempting to get the pj's down. Ouch! Now on the off chance that you remember to unpin them, then what? How do you do anything else when you're holding 4 drains?? You can't just let them hang, so now what? Your hands are full, you're still fully dressed, and desperately need to pee! Plus, you're still drugged on the narcotics so your problem solving capacity is COMPLETELY absent.
The solution is simple, really. Bring a 1.5" wide satin ribbon to the hospital with you. Make sure it's long enough to go around your waist and tie in a bow. Each of these drains has a plastic loop attached. If you string the bulbs on a ribbon and tie it around your waist, they stay put, are out of sight, and don't interfere with peeing while on heavy drugs. The drains are secured and completely independent of your clothing. PRICELESS advice I assure you...
Then finally, whatever you fear most, face it and become a boy scout. What I mean by that is "Always be prepared." Any of you who have been following my journey know that for me this was the hair thing. If you are like me and worried about the hair thing, here's what I've learned about that.
First, you don't need to buy human hair. You might think you want it, but you probably don't. For me, this was decided as soon as I saw the CSI Miami where the lady got busted for murder because her human hair extensions had been cut off a cadaver and had microscopic mites as a result. With my bug phobia, even the mere mention of the possibility was more than I could handle. Besides, you just won't believe what the quality synthetic hair looks like these days. And real human hair has to be styled. If it rains, it falls and frizzes. Synthetic doesn't. It looks great no matter what and is so real that you just can't tell the difference.
A quality human hair wig will cost you more than $500-$800 for starters. A quality synthetic one retails for between $150 and $300. But, if you find what you want and go to http://www.joshua24.com/ to get it, you can cut that to $75-$150 for the EXACT same wigs. Then, you can get it cut by a professional stylist to make any alterations.
I have one that I paid retail price for at the cancer salon. The service that I received and the support they offered me was MORE than worth the investment. But, for my other looks, it just made sense to shop. So, I ordered those from the site above. Here's the funny part. I now have the hair I've always wanted. It not only looks real, but healthy, shiny, and there's no grey hair or roots to color. I also have 3 different looks that I can interchangeably wear. Plus, I get to do my hair the night before and pop it on just before leaving the house.
Now I've even got the brows and eyelashes covered. I still have all of my eyelashes, but have lost 1/2 of my brows. So, I am already using a brow kit that I received at my Look Good, Feel Better class. The key to looking natural here is that it is not a pencil, but a powder (like eyeshadow) applied with a specially designed brush, It also has a pomade sealer. You can't tell the difference! Although I've never used BeautiControl before, I totally recommend their brow kit. They have that down! And when the lashes go, I have those as well. I found some that look just like my real ones and black glue, too. So even that doesn't have to be a big deal. As long as I can get them on...Stay tuned for that report.
I guess that's enough for one post. I hope that these things are able to help other women that have joined this "club" against their will like the rest of us. There are SO many of us, and we have to help each other through. The good news is that we can. Thank You, Thank You, Thank You to all of those women who have helped me, most of which I have never met in person. I couldn't have made it this far without the things that each of you have taught me.
Some of the best advice I ever got about breast cancer came from a wonderful woman that I have never met in person, but feel like I know because I got the idea for this blog from hers. A friend of hers that goes to my church sent me the link to her blog, and I read every word she ever typed about her really tough trip through this nasty disease. Today, I am happy to report that she is a survivor. Having the insight and guidance that she provided me was priceless. Thank you so much, Sheri! Her advice to me was this, "Don't get cancer." Unfortunately, it was too late for me on that one, but it did make me laugh.
The other piece of advice that she had for me was about the Neulasta (white count booster) shots. You see, chemo kills all of your fast splitting cells. Cancer cells are fast splitting so that's why it works on them. Well, so are your white blood cells and other things like you hair. Since it can't discriminate between good and bad cells, it kills all kinds. So, many times either because your count drops too low or as a preventative measure, you have to get these shots to boost your body's production of white blood cells. Since these cells are created in your bone marrow, a common side effect of the shot is bone pain. Take it from me, you DON'T want this. I spent my week this week dealing with it. Sheri struggled with this as well. He advice to me was to get pain medicine and take it BEFORE I had the shot.
That is GREAT advice. Here's my two cents to add to that. You don't necessarily need pain meds from your doctor. Advil did the job for me after the first round. I just didn't know it until I failed to do the same this time around. I had taken Advil every 6 hours for a full 2 days before the first shot for cramps. So, I was unknowingly treating myself for the shot 2 full days before I got the shot and 2 days after. Since I had no pain from it, I just thought I was having no effects. So, this time I didn't "pre-treat". The result was a very hard week that cost me a day of work and required prescription meds. Next time, I will begin taking the Advil 2 days before and through the day after like I accidentally did the first time. Then, I have the prescription only if I need it. I'm not going through that again. So, don't follow suit. Thank you, Sheri for the advice because I wouldn't have know why there was a difference without it.
One of the other things that made such a difference for me was something that Mom and I figured out all by ourselves the first week after surgery. When you have this surgery one of the most inconvenient things that you have to deal with right away is the stinkin' drains. These things are a complete nuisance, to put it nicely. So, you're cut up, medicated on opiates, and have 4 tubes with bulbs on the end of them hanging out of your body. Not fun. Then, they tell you to pin these things to your pj bottoms. You don't want them pinned to your shirt because they're gross, so you go ahead and pin them to your bottoms. And that's all just fine...until you have to pee.
So, since you're operating at a diminished capacity (reads: drugged out of your mind on narcotics), you forget that they are pinned to your pj's and tug away at them by mistake when attempting to get the pj's down. Ouch! Now on the off chance that you remember to unpin them, then what? How do you do anything else when you're holding 4 drains?? You can't just let them hang, so now what? Your hands are full, you're still fully dressed, and desperately need to pee! Plus, you're still drugged on the narcotics so your problem solving capacity is COMPLETELY absent.
The solution is simple, really. Bring a 1.5" wide satin ribbon to the hospital with you. Make sure it's long enough to go around your waist and tie in a bow. Each of these drains has a plastic loop attached. If you string the bulbs on a ribbon and tie it around your waist, they stay put, are out of sight, and don't interfere with peeing while on heavy drugs. The drains are secured and completely independent of your clothing. PRICELESS advice I assure you...
Then finally, whatever you fear most, face it and become a boy scout. What I mean by that is "Always be prepared." Any of you who have been following my journey know that for me this was the hair thing. If you are like me and worried about the hair thing, here's what I've learned about that.
First, you don't need to buy human hair. You might think you want it, but you probably don't. For me, this was decided as soon as I saw the CSI Miami where the lady got busted for murder because her human hair extensions had been cut off a cadaver and had microscopic mites as a result. With my bug phobia, even the mere mention of the possibility was more than I could handle. Besides, you just won't believe what the quality synthetic hair looks like these days. And real human hair has to be styled. If it rains, it falls and frizzes. Synthetic doesn't. It looks great no matter what and is so real that you just can't tell the difference.
A quality human hair wig will cost you more than $500-$800 for starters. A quality synthetic one retails for between $150 and $300. But, if you find what you want and go to http://www.joshua24.com/ to get it, you can cut that to $75-$150 for the EXACT same wigs. Then, you can get it cut by a professional stylist to make any alterations.
I have one that I paid retail price for at the cancer salon. The service that I received and the support they offered me was MORE than worth the investment. But, for my other looks, it just made sense to shop. So, I ordered those from the site above. Here's the funny part. I now have the hair I've always wanted. It not only looks real, but healthy, shiny, and there's no grey hair or roots to color. I also have 3 different looks that I can interchangeably wear. Plus, I get to do my hair the night before and pop it on just before leaving the house.
Now I've even got the brows and eyelashes covered. I still have all of my eyelashes, but have lost 1/2 of my brows. So, I am already using a brow kit that I received at my Look Good, Feel Better class. The key to looking natural here is that it is not a pencil, but a powder (like eyeshadow) applied with a specially designed brush, It also has a pomade sealer. You can't tell the difference! Although I've never used BeautiControl before, I totally recommend their brow kit. They have that down! And when the lashes go, I have those as well. I found some that look just like my real ones and black glue, too. So even that doesn't have to be a big deal. As long as I can get them on...Stay tuned for that report.
I guess that's enough for one post. I hope that these things are able to help other women that have joined this "club" against their will like the rest of us. There are SO many of us, and we have to help each other through. The good news is that we can. Thank You, Thank You, Thank You to all of those women who have helped me, most of which I have never met in person. I couldn't have made it this far without the things that each of you have taught me.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Wishing Away Time
I have a quote hanging on the wall at my desk at work that says, “If we fill our hours with regrets of yesterday and worries of tomorrow, we have no today in which to be thankful.” I know exactly where I got the quote but have no idea who said it. Unfortunately, the person that quoted it to me doesn’t know either. I wish I knew so that I could give them credit. It’s quite wise.
Lamenting about things that are past is a complete waste of time. There’s nothing we can do to change it. That time has come and gone. If I had it to do over, there are MANY things I would have never said or done. But, I don’t dwell on them because I can’t change them. Besides, I have asked forgiveness for them already and most likely everyone but me has forgotten them. If you haven’t and I was wrong…please forgive me. Feel free to call and we’ll discuss it. I am ready to admit my mistake if you just remind me…
Worrying about tomorrow or next week…Well, we all do that from time to time. Some more than others. I used to be worried about EVERYTHING. I saw another quote once that said, “Worry works because most of the things I worry about never happen.” I used to think that was funny and worth quoting. Really?? It really just shines a light on how futile worry is in the first place. We know we aren’t supposed to worry. Yet, we do. Most recently, I was worried about losing my hair for so long that I sounded like a broken record. And look how that turned out! Not a big deal at all.
Friday I had my second round of chemo. It appears to have gone well. I wasn’t sick this time either. I felt a little queasy today at work, but nothing that the medicine couldn’t manage. I am feeling the effects more than the last time. It seems stronger because it's starting that cumulative effect they warned me about. I guess I could be worried about that, but I haven’t been. If this cancer has taught me anything (and boy has it!) it’s that I am not in control of things. What a relief! I was sick of feeling in charge anyway. It’s a shame to admit, but for me it took cancer to understand surrender. What a slow learner! Still, I am so thankful for the lesson.
So, let’s check the list: No regrets and dwelling on the past. Check! No worrying about tomorrow. Check! That leaves today. Thankful for that…check! Or am I? I hate to admit it, but I realized today that I usually am not. Not really, anyway. You see, I’m tired. Chemo makes you tired. Of course if you’d ask me before I got cancer, I would have told you the same thing. I was tired then. It’s all just degrees of the tiredness. But I found myself thinking, “I wish today was over so that I could go home and lie down.” How many times have I thought that? Have you?
I hate to admit it, but even in my mode that I thought was “thankful” I haven’t been. I have spent a good deal of those days wishing away time. “If I can just get through this day, then I can go home and rest.” Someone asked me on the elevator this morning, “Is it Friday yet?" It’s Monday! You have to wish away five FULL days to get to Friday on Monday morning! How crazy is that? The truth is that we aren’t guaranteed anything but this moment. For some, this will be the last one here on earth. Even if that’s not the case, we can wish away years of time with nothing to show for it if we aren’t careful. Just passing time, making no impact, getting by…
Yesterday I got to spend the day with my dear friend, Meghan, from many years ago. One of the things that I just couldn’t believe as we talked was how much time had passed since we’ve seen each other. Her son will graduate high school this year and she didn’t have a son the last time we saw each other. How many of those days did I wish away? I look at Brayden and see him growing up so fast and know that it will be his turn to graduate before I know it. I just can’t wish those days away.
So, that brings me back to chemo. I’ve got two down and four to go. How can I not wish it would hurry up and be over? January 8th is circled on the calendar for sure! It’s the last one. But in the meantime, how many moments, memories, and days could I wish away just wishing it was over. What would I miss? I want to miss NOTHING. So, I have to learn to be still in my situation. Enjoy the good times while this is going on. There’s so much more going on than chemo. How can I sum it all up in that? I can’t. So instead of making this time something else I “check off the list”, I’m going to accept it as just one thing happening in my “today”, a today that I am choosing to be thankful for.
Lamenting about things that are past is a complete waste of time. There’s nothing we can do to change it. That time has come and gone. If I had it to do over, there are MANY things I would have never said or done. But, I don’t dwell on them because I can’t change them. Besides, I have asked forgiveness for them already and most likely everyone but me has forgotten them. If you haven’t and I was wrong…please forgive me. Feel free to call and we’ll discuss it. I am ready to admit my mistake if you just remind me…
Worrying about tomorrow or next week…Well, we all do that from time to time. Some more than others. I used to be worried about EVERYTHING. I saw another quote once that said, “Worry works because most of the things I worry about never happen.” I used to think that was funny and worth quoting. Really?? It really just shines a light on how futile worry is in the first place. We know we aren’t supposed to worry. Yet, we do. Most recently, I was worried about losing my hair for so long that I sounded like a broken record. And look how that turned out! Not a big deal at all.
Friday I had my second round of chemo. It appears to have gone well. I wasn’t sick this time either. I felt a little queasy today at work, but nothing that the medicine couldn’t manage. I am feeling the effects more than the last time. It seems stronger because it's starting that cumulative effect they warned me about. I guess I could be worried about that, but I haven’t been. If this cancer has taught me anything (and boy has it!) it’s that I am not in control of things. What a relief! I was sick of feeling in charge anyway. It’s a shame to admit, but for me it took cancer to understand surrender. What a slow learner! Still, I am so thankful for the lesson.
So, let’s check the list: No regrets and dwelling on the past. Check! No worrying about tomorrow. Check! That leaves today. Thankful for that…check! Or am I? I hate to admit it, but I realized today that I usually am not. Not really, anyway. You see, I’m tired. Chemo makes you tired. Of course if you’d ask me before I got cancer, I would have told you the same thing. I was tired then. It’s all just degrees of the tiredness. But I found myself thinking, “I wish today was over so that I could go home and lie down.” How many times have I thought that? Have you?
I hate to admit it, but even in my mode that I thought was “thankful” I haven’t been. I have spent a good deal of those days wishing away time. “If I can just get through this day, then I can go home and rest.” Someone asked me on the elevator this morning, “Is it Friday yet?" It’s Monday! You have to wish away five FULL days to get to Friday on Monday morning! How crazy is that? The truth is that we aren’t guaranteed anything but this moment. For some, this will be the last one here on earth. Even if that’s not the case, we can wish away years of time with nothing to show for it if we aren’t careful. Just passing time, making no impact, getting by…
Yesterday I got to spend the day with my dear friend, Meghan, from many years ago. One of the things that I just couldn’t believe as we talked was how much time had passed since we’ve seen each other. Her son will graduate high school this year and she didn’t have a son the last time we saw each other. How many of those days did I wish away? I look at Brayden and see him growing up so fast and know that it will be his turn to graduate before I know it. I just can’t wish those days away.
So, that brings me back to chemo. I’ve got two down and four to go. How can I not wish it would hurry up and be over? January 8th is circled on the calendar for sure! It’s the last one. But in the meantime, how many moments, memories, and days could I wish away just wishing it was over. What would I miss? I want to miss NOTHING. So, I have to learn to be still in my situation. Enjoy the good times while this is going on. There’s so much more going on than chemo. How can I sum it all up in that? I can’t. So instead of making this time something else I “check off the list”, I’m going to accept it as just one thing happening in my “today”, a today that I am choosing to be thankful for.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Under Construction...Inside and Out
This whole experience has been such a trip. I realized today just how much has changed in the last couple of months. When you really take a look at it, it's so much! I think everyone around me realizes that. But the funny thing is that on any given normal day, I don't really feel any different and none of it seems like a lot. I look different, and I am but still feel the same. It doesn't seem possible, but it's none the less true. It's comical really. When you add up all of the stuff, no wonder people look at me weird when I tell them everything is great! How can that be? Let's go through the list...
Well for starters, I happen to be as bald as a cue ball at the moment. I still have a few hanger-on hairs, but basically they've all fallen out. I was so worried about how traumatizing that was going to be. But, here I am in the middle of it and it just isn't. That seems really hard for me to believe. My ex told me last night that I looked like Uncle Fester from the Adam's family when he stopped by to see Brayden. I had just taken a shower and forgot to use my eye makeup remover when I got out so here I am, no hair, and I had giant black circles of eye make up all around my eyes. You know what? I did look like him! Today he told me he didn't mean that. It was more like Darth Vader when they removed his mask. I laughed at that, too. If I had trauma from this, I'd probably be on the news having killed him in a terribly violent manner. But, I laughed instead of doing 30 years near Huntsville.
Ok, number 2. I had my breasts removed! Really?? Really. Chopped those puppies right off. That definitely should have traumatized me. I thought it would, but it just didn't. I can't explain it. We're rebuilding though, Texas style.
I say Texas style because that's what we do here in The Great State of Texas. In other parts of the country there's a ton of historical things. Not in Texas. When it gets old, the shine wears off, we just rip it down and build something new. The "new" is usually better and always bigger than what stood there before. Now, I'm not saying that's necessarily a good thing. It just is what it is. And as of today and my last appointment with the plastic surgeon until my surgery next November, we're tracking for the same on my reconstruction. I hate to admit it, but I just wasn't paying attention when we started with the saline yesterday morning. I wasn't fully awake and was too busy looking at my doctor (reads: eye candy). Next thing I know...Well let's just say, I don't own a bra that will fit me. The good news is that I don't need one for a little while longer because gravity has no effect at the moment. Woo Hoo!! Hey, it's one small perk to having cancer. Still not worth it to go through the whole ordeal, so don't get any ideas. But, a reward of some kind all the same.
I could go on, but isn't that enough to drive home the point? There's really only one explanation for all of this. It's JOY, real, genuine JOY! I've learned the difference in joy and happiness in the last couple years. And what a difference there is! There's also not a single passage in the Bible where it says God wants us to be happy. If you find one, let me know. But you won't because, it just isn't there. It DOES, however, talk about rejoicing in the JOY of the Lord. You see, happiness is dependent on your circumstances, and it is fleeting. It is a thing of this world. No matter how happy you get, it's going to go away either in a few minutes or maybe days or weeks. It wears off, or something about the circumstances change and poof! It's gone.
Joy is SO different. It comes from God, and He alone can supply it. It doesn't go away and isn't fleeting as long as we are focused on living in His will, bringing everything to Him, and trusting only Him to get us through. Our circumstances change, things go wrong, but yet we can still be full of joy. (Even when we aren't happy about what's going on.) This is a really hard thing to understand. That is of course, until you experience it. When I first heard it, I thought that it sounded great, but couldn't see how it was actually going to be possible. For this I am so thankful for our Singles pastor at Fellowship Church Grapevine. Josh taught a class (what I believe to be about 3 years ago) on the study of James. The first thing he had us do was begin to memorize James 1:2-4. Here's what it says:
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."
At the time, I really liked the "mature, complete, not lacking anything" part but was really confused about what it would take to find the joy in trials. I mean, who thinks that sounds good or is even possible?? On the other hand, the mature and complete thing sounds great, right? So, I wrote it down on a post-it and put it up in my desk right in my line of sight. (In fact, even though the ink is fading that same post-it is still there.) I did memorize it and since that day I refer to it (in writing and from memory) anytime I feel challenged. Still, I wasn't sure if it was working on me or not and hadn't made the connection until I was at our retreat this past weekend.
Josh opened up his talk this time with the same verse. I was thrilled about that because over the last 3 years it has become really important to me and an integral part of my prayer life. He told us something different this time though. He said that joy as defined in the Greek means "overqualified for your trials". WOW! How powerful is that? In all of those prayers that I have sent up over the last few years asking for joy in times of what has turned out to be much smaller trials, God was preparing me for this one, the biggest of my life. He knew what was coming Even though I didn't. Now, I am prepared and as it turns out actually overqualified. This round of breast cancer hasn't and will not steal my joy. It can't, you see, because God has given it to me and it is not linked to my circumstances.
With that joy comes something else, too. Philippians 4:6-7 makes us a promise when we turn things over to Him completely, with thanks, and prayer. It is this:
"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."
There's no promise there that everything will turn out the way we want. It simply says that thankfully and prayerfully we turn it over, in this case that's a trial. By doing that I have found peace that surpasses understanding in the midst of my biggest storm to date, and He has given me joy in the process. I still have no hair. I still have 1/2 constructed boobs, and I still have more than a year of this treatment and more surgery ahead of me. But, so what??? I also have joy and peace, two things that I've never had before. It already has been worth it, every yucky little step. I wouldn't trade it for the world because breast cancer has allowed me to finally find them.
So as I sit here in the chemo chair again today, I am overflowing with peace, joy and thankfulness. That’s not to say that I am never challenged with things. That would be a lie. Even yesterday I was anxious about today and how this treatment was going to go. But, I turned it over and back came the peace and the joy. The enemy has lost another round because he and his thoughts cannot dwell where the Holy Spirit resides. Thank you, Jesus for continuing to bless me so far beyond anything I could have imagined, much less deserved. You have made me unbelievably overqualified for this trial, and I am certain that I could never do it without you. That would be completely inconceivable.
Well for starters, I happen to be as bald as a cue ball at the moment. I still have a few hanger-on hairs, but basically they've all fallen out. I was so worried about how traumatizing that was going to be. But, here I am in the middle of it and it just isn't. That seems really hard for me to believe. My ex told me last night that I looked like Uncle Fester from the Adam's family when he stopped by to see Brayden. I had just taken a shower and forgot to use my eye makeup remover when I got out so here I am, no hair, and I had giant black circles of eye make up all around my eyes. You know what? I did look like him! Today he told me he didn't mean that. It was more like Darth Vader when they removed his mask. I laughed at that, too. If I had trauma from this, I'd probably be on the news having killed him in a terribly violent manner. But, I laughed instead of doing 30 years near Huntsville.
Ok, number 2. I had my breasts removed! Really?? Really. Chopped those puppies right off. That definitely should have traumatized me. I thought it would, but it just didn't. I can't explain it. We're rebuilding though, Texas style.
I say Texas style because that's what we do here in The Great State of Texas. In other parts of the country there's a ton of historical things. Not in Texas. When it gets old, the shine wears off, we just rip it down and build something new. The "new" is usually better and always bigger than what stood there before. Now, I'm not saying that's necessarily a good thing. It just is what it is. And as of today and my last appointment with the plastic surgeon until my surgery next November, we're tracking for the same on my reconstruction. I hate to admit it, but I just wasn't paying attention when we started with the saline yesterday morning. I wasn't fully awake and was too busy looking at my doctor (reads: eye candy). Next thing I know...Well let's just say, I don't own a bra that will fit me. The good news is that I don't need one for a little while longer because gravity has no effect at the moment. Woo Hoo!! Hey, it's one small perk to having cancer. Still not worth it to go through the whole ordeal, so don't get any ideas. But, a reward of some kind all the same.
I could go on, but isn't that enough to drive home the point? There's really only one explanation for all of this. It's JOY, real, genuine JOY! I've learned the difference in joy and happiness in the last couple years. And what a difference there is! There's also not a single passage in the Bible where it says God wants us to be happy. If you find one, let me know. But you won't because, it just isn't there. It DOES, however, talk about rejoicing in the JOY of the Lord. You see, happiness is dependent on your circumstances, and it is fleeting. It is a thing of this world. No matter how happy you get, it's going to go away either in a few minutes or maybe days or weeks. It wears off, or something about the circumstances change and poof! It's gone.
Joy is SO different. It comes from God, and He alone can supply it. It doesn't go away and isn't fleeting as long as we are focused on living in His will, bringing everything to Him, and trusting only Him to get us through. Our circumstances change, things go wrong, but yet we can still be full of joy. (Even when we aren't happy about what's going on.) This is a really hard thing to understand. That is of course, until you experience it. When I first heard it, I thought that it sounded great, but couldn't see how it was actually going to be possible. For this I am so thankful for our Singles pastor at Fellowship Church Grapevine. Josh taught a class (what I believe to be about 3 years ago) on the study of James. The first thing he had us do was begin to memorize James 1:2-4. Here's what it says:
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."
At the time, I really liked the "mature, complete, not lacking anything" part but was really confused about what it would take to find the joy in trials. I mean, who thinks that sounds good or is even possible?? On the other hand, the mature and complete thing sounds great, right? So, I wrote it down on a post-it and put it up in my desk right in my line of sight. (In fact, even though the ink is fading that same post-it is still there.) I did memorize it and since that day I refer to it (in writing and from memory) anytime I feel challenged. Still, I wasn't sure if it was working on me or not and hadn't made the connection until I was at our retreat this past weekend.
Josh opened up his talk this time with the same verse. I was thrilled about that because over the last 3 years it has become really important to me and an integral part of my prayer life. He told us something different this time though. He said that joy as defined in the Greek means "overqualified for your trials". WOW! How powerful is that? In all of those prayers that I have sent up over the last few years asking for joy in times of what has turned out to be much smaller trials, God was preparing me for this one, the biggest of my life. He knew what was coming Even though I didn't. Now, I am prepared and as it turns out actually overqualified. This round of breast cancer hasn't and will not steal my joy. It can't, you see, because God has given it to me and it is not linked to my circumstances.
With that joy comes something else, too. Philippians 4:6-7 makes us a promise when we turn things over to Him completely, with thanks, and prayer. It is this:
"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."
There's no promise there that everything will turn out the way we want. It simply says that thankfully and prayerfully we turn it over, in this case that's a trial. By doing that I have found peace that surpasses understanding in the midst of my biggest storm to date, and He has given me joy in the process. I still have no hair. I still have 1/2 constructed boobs, and I still have more than a year of this treatment and more surgery ahead of me. But, so what??? I also have joy and peace, two things that I've never had before. It already has been worth it, every yucky little step. I wouldn't trade it for the world because breast cancer has allowed me to finally find them.
So as I sit here in the chemo chair again today, I am overflowing with peace, joy and thankfulness. That’s not to say that I am never challenged with things. That would be a lie. Even yesterday I was anxious about today and how this treatment was going to go. But, I turned it over and back came the peace and the joy. The enemy has lost another round because he and his thoughts cannot dwell where the Holy Spirit resides. Thank you, Jesus for continuing to bless me so far beyond anything I could have imagined, much less deserved. You have made me unbelievably overqualified for this trial, and I am certain that I could never do it without you. That would be completely inconceivable.
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