Confessions of a Compulsive Hat-Buyer

I have a confession to make. A handful of you already know this...I’m an addict. My story’s not unique. It all started with just one, maybe two. I thought I could handle it. I didn’t know what I was messing with…I found out about the hair and had what I thought was a harmless thought, “I should get a hat.” That was all she wrote. Notice, I thought “get A hat”, not “get 23 hats”…

I hear there are people who can stop at one. Occasionally they will go buy a hat and not even think about hats again for a long time. Some people go their whole lives and don’t even know they’re hat-addicts because they never bought one before, kind of like a Baptist alcoholic. I think I heard a joke about that one… (And for the record, as a born and raised Baptist, I'm allowed to tell it.) At any rate, I now know that I used to be one of those hat people, but am no longer.

In my defense, they’re A LOT of cute hats out there right now. They’re everywhere! Either that or I just started noticing them. The odd thing is that I don’t even like to shop. The fact that I was at the mall on Saturday is more unusual than the fact that I was wearing a wig, which I have never done before.

I got my first two when Mom and I went to buy Pj’s for my surgery. Turns out that I had no button-down-the-front Pj’s. And when you have that surgery, you can’t pull a shirt over your head since you can’t lift your arms for a while. So, the Pj’s were a necessity. That’s how she got me to the mall in the first place. The hats were between the Pj section and the door at Dillard’s. So, since there was a huge sale (75% off!), we casually picked up two that looked kind of cute. I didn’t even pay them attention for a while. I was busy with the surgery, recovery, and everything else. But once I got obsessed with the hair…that all changed.

Now, you should know that I DO like to BUY, but not to shop. There’s a huge difference. If you “shop” you like to spend the day in many stores or the mall, looking around with no specific goal necessarily, and you could come home with something, a lot of things, or nothing. Ugh! I don’t do that. When I shop it’s a mission (as in black ops, not small church). You get in, get out, and if you do it right no one even knows you were there. That’s how you BUY, not shop. The faster you can pull it off the better. That’s why the Internet is so dangerous. You can buy anything you want whether the stores are open or not. Up at 3:00 am? Need a hat? No problem. We got your hat right here!

I could spend a great deal of time justifying all of the good reasons that each of my hat purchases was legitimate. The first dozen came from the American Cancer Society’s online store. How could you argue with giving money to the American Cancer Society? What with having the cancer and all…Plus, it’s a good cause. I bought some pink stuff at The Breast Cancer Site, also a good place to spend your money. Then there’s 60% off day. That was Saturday when I capped off the collection (no pun intended) with the last two. I actually even started stretching the truth about my addiction. I told Terri at work today that I bought A hat in two colors. When she thought I meant one, I did not correct her. She caught on though. For the record, I did buy A hat in two colors, it just adds up to two if you’re paying attention. Besides, I didn’t even get the black one. So, I was proud that it wasn’t three. The black on was really cute.

All of this begs the question, What is going on here? What’s with all the hats? I’m not usually a hat-wearer, so why the compulsive need to buy so many? I couldn’t have told you until today. When I got out of the car at work this morning, the wind was blowing SO hard in our parking lot. It was cool, dry, which is the thing that I always look most forward to when the weather FINALLY cools down after the triple digit heat of summer. But today I had a different thought. Instead of my usual complete joy in that moment, I felt panic. What if it’s this windy next Monday? I had visions of my “hair” flying across the parking lot. That vision was immediately followed by a series of surprising feelings. Shame, embarrassment, terror. It was fleeting, but it was there for just a second. Then a quick sense of security because I had a hat to wear to protect me from that. Like a hat is some Harry Potter-esque cloak of invisibility/wind protector...

Shame and Embarrassment??? Really??? There’s no shame in having cancer! Where in the world did that come from? Still, that’s what it was as sure as I sit here and type this. So I thought about that all day, and I came to a couple of conclusions.

First, no matter how far past the teenage girl we once were that we think we've grown, she's still there. You know the one that thought the whole school was looking at the minuscule little zit hidden where no one could see it anyway? Yeah, her. She's still around even if you think she isn't. Secondly, sometimes it takes things like cancer to remind and reveal these things to us. I had no idea she was still hanging around. But, now that I know she's there, I can handle her because 40 years of life teaches you a thing or two.

One of those is this: People don't look as closely at us as we think they do. Most of the people I encountered on Saturday in my wig never knew I was wearing it. And if they did, so what?? As I've already said, there is NO shame in having cancer. Another thing is this, the only people that it should matter what they think are the ones that love us hair or no hair. And the hair really doesn't matter to them anyway. Then finally, when we do feel that way or if we just want a cute look, it's completely OK to grab a hat and head out the door.

Women spend so much time beating each other down in this world. "She's put on a few..." "Did you see what she was wearing?" "I would just DIE if that happened to me..." "She did what with who? I'd NEVER do that!" Gossip everywhere. Whole industries are built on finding flaws in others and exploiting them. Beating others down to build ourselves up. It doesn't work. It just changes the standard by which we judge ourselves as well. It's always too high when it comes to our appearance. We need to STOP it! We're all in the same boat really.

Each of us is God's creation that He made to be exactly who we are. Unique. Special. Needed. And above all else, LOVED, just the way we are. We can always do better in how we behave, serve, or treat others, but that's OUR imperfect human sinful nature. It's not a flaw in his creation. My pastor says regularly, "There is nothing that you can do to make God love you any more, or any less." He already loves us completely, totally. If He can love us with all of our imperfections, why can't we?

One down five to go, and a date with my new hair...

So I spent Friday plugged into the IV machine getting my first round of chemo. We got the day started with blood work about 8:30 followed by a trip to Ihop. I had about an hour to kill between drawing blood and being able to see the doctor and get things going. They told me to go have a normal breakfast. So, Dad and I went to Ihop where I proceeded to eat 2 eggs over easy (my favorite), hash browns, 2 pieces of bacon AND 2 pancakes with a large glass of milk...ALL of it. I'm sure that's a normal breakfast for someone...At least I didn't lick the plate. He didn't finish his...quitter. But, he did stay the whole day with me except for a couple hours when I had other company. That gave him time to go home and console Mom who wasn't handling it well that morning. She chased me out to the car crying. I thought something had happened to Brayden, but she was just sending her baby off to chemo. I can't imagine if it were Brayden, so I get it.

The rest of the day went better than expected. My nurses and all of the people that work at Texas Oncology were all so wonderful! I was so well taken care of that I couldn't believe it. It's a little boring sitting in a chair all day, but that was broken up with a wonderful visit from my new friend, Amy. Thank you so much for coming to see me!! One of the hidden blessings in this cancer business is all of the people that you would not have met otherwise. Amy is one of those people. You see, she has already done all of this. We were diagnosed with the same kind of breast cancer. Since there's more than 20 kinds that we know about so far, she's the only person I have met that has MY kind. It is so inspiring to have support from someone who has walked this road and become a survivor of the exact cancer that I have. Besides the giant daisy balloon she brought me really dressed up my IV pole as I cruised the infusion room later in the day.

The giant balloon also actually added to the flair of the moment when I mistakenly broke all of the rules and escaped the infusion room. This is a full service facility. So, they have a pharmacy on site where they fill your prescriptions for nausea or whatever else you will need while you get the chemo. Fantastic! No Walgreen's wait on the way home...Well, when they came and told me my prescriptions were ready and that the pharmacist needed to talk to me, I got up, unplugged my machine and took off down the hall to the pharmacy to get them. That's apparently a big NO! NO! I guess mobile chemo patients aren't the normal thing in the hall (maybe it was the balloon...) but everyone looked like they would fall over when I pulled up to the window at the pharmacy to get my drugs chemo and balloon in tow. They lady behind the counter said, "What are you doing here??" and one of the nurses from infusion came running out to get me. So, I was recaptured and returned to my chair. Oops!!

So, when I say full service, I mean it. The pharmacist came to my chair to go over the nausea drugs and make sure I understood everything. He was wonderful as well. (That won't happen at Walgreen's when the guy behind the glass shoves the drugs into the "tube" and out to your car.) They weren't lying either when they said that they could keep me from getting sick. I've taken the Zofran this weekend, but that's it. They pump anti-nausea drugs into you before the infusions, one of which lasts for 3 days and they seem to have worked so far. So, bye to Chemo #1. We've done it.

Since I felt pretty good when I woke up Saturday morning, I decided to get dressed, slick back my real hair, put on one of my wigs with a cute hat and go out into the world. Next Saturday it's for real, but I needed to know if I could do it before I HAD to. So, I did. I went to the mall and a couple other stores for a test run. Then I met my mom and Carol for lunch. It was a good experience. Mom and I even went to get her clothes for her 50th reunion before I began to feel too run down. I CAN do this. Thank you Jesus for YOUR strength. It's the reason I'll get through.

Today, I only made it to church and Subway. I've rested and that's what I needed to do. I am going to do more of that. I understand why my nurse was concerned. Even thought I ranted about it before, I get it now. I'm not going to try and push it as I go deeper in the process. The effects of the drugs are cumulative and I don't want to get on the wrong side of this. Chemo is no joke. It's poison. So, I'm going to follow the advice of my medical team and put my health first.

One last thing, if you're praying for me, please do tomorrow. I am having to get the Neulasta shot in the morning to make sure my white count doesn't get dangerously low. That can be brutal because the main side effect is bone pain. The good news is that Friday my count was so high that I'm only getting 1/2 a dose. Like so many other things lately, I've been told it's "prophylactic". So, we're trying to keep it that way. We'll know by Wednesday or Thursday if I'm going to feel it.

If you don't know what to say...how about nothing?

So since I finally seem to be over the trauma of the pending hairloss (**still reserving the right for relapse), I want to help the women that are behind me just a little, the ones that are suffering in silence with the realization and trying to come to terms with what's to come. So, I thought in this entry we'd just discuss something that every cancer patient in the world would like to say to all of the people WITHOUT cancer. This is stuff that actually matters to people who've just gotten this diagnosis, but they aren't going to tell you for fear of being rude. Fortunately (or not) for everyone reading this, I'm a little less afraid of that than the average bear. So, here goes...

See, when you get cancer you inevitably end up talking about the cancer with almost everyone that you encounter, like it or not. Now, although it has become a very easy conversation for me since I am choosing to handle it publicly, that doesn't mean that everyone else is as comfortable. That includes those with the cancer and those of you without it. So giving the rest of the world the benefit of the doubt, I thought that I would help those of you who don't have cancer with a few common missteps that might just come up in conversation. You know, things you might be tempted to say for some reason that I cannot explain, but really just shouldn't be said for ANY reason.

Now as women, we have certain things that help define who we are. Our eyes, our smile, our style, our expressions, and OF COURSE our hair. Hair is a big deal! It's a BIG part of the whole package. No one gets this diagnosis and and says, "good riddance!" For many of us, "Am I going to lose my hair?" is the first question we ask. Possibly even before asking about the prognosis... Most will get the news that I did. "Yes, you're going to lose it." That news is quickly followed by a deep breath, confusion, realization, tears, panic, worry...all kinds of stuff BEFORE acceptance. That's about how it worked for me. With, of course, unexpected spontaneous bouts of bawling that can rise up at any place, time, or in any company. (If you happened to witness this from me, sorry about that. I really couldn't control it.)

So to be clear, here are some of the most common things that you (the women without cancer) should NOT say to one of us. Saying these things can have several outcomes. None of them are good. Let's have a look at why...

First of all, almost all of us do get wigs at some point. You don't really need to ask us IF we're planning on that or just going "natural". Maybe you COULD ask "Have we already shopped for one? Have you found a good place to find one?" Or be helpful with something like, "I have a friend who knows a great cancer salon..." Any of those are actually acceptable.

It's AFTER that where the conversation goes wheels off with comments like the ones to follow, all of which I had with multiple people. So, if you're one of them, you are not alone and I am not putting this out there to make you feel bad. I am not upset with you in any way, and might have said some of this stuff myself if I didn't actually HAVE cancer either. I just want to explain how there might be a better way.Or, to ask you to consider how you would feel if these things were said to you...Here goes:

"You should get a pink one!" Really??? Based on what? Why? Because everyone wants pink hair all of a sudden? Because people need extra help identifying cancer patients in a color coded fashion? Because once you get cancer, you want to draw as much attention to yourself as possible?? What's up with the pink comment?? Let's shave YOUR head and get YOU a pink one. It's just a year or two. No biggie. You up for that?? I didn't think so. So then, why would I be? It's NOT cute or OK to say this to us. So please, skip it.

"Have fun with it!" What does this mean exactly? I am so unclear about where the fun part is coming from. Is the fun part the anxiety of it all coming it out at once, or waking up in a bed full of all you your curls that fell out while you were sleeping? Maybe the fun is about praying it's not too windy in Dallas this fall (NOT LIKELY) or that your wig doesn't shift strangely off to the right during an important meeting with your President or while addressing a group of a couple hundred people (which I get to do this fall in my stinking wig). I'm just not clear on where the fun is supposed to be coming from! It's fun to wear a wig for Halloween. There's also a reason Halloween is ONE day a year, not 365. Have you ever worn a wig for Halloween and gotten up the next day and thought, "I wish I could wear that thing everyday!"?

Then there's the tried and true... "It will grow back!" So will yours! I'm so glad you have that attitude. Let's do it together! Are YOU going to get a pink one?? Come on! Have fun with it! Why are you running away...?

The truth is, it WILL grow back, but we have to get to that realization and acceptance point on our own. You can't help us get there and saying it actually makes the pain of the situation worse because we feel guilty and shallow for even caring about our stupid hair! I did anyway. The thing is, you just can't understand this unless you've done it. The only people who can say that are women who've been through it, and it's still hard to hear.

Now, if you've said any of these things to me or anyone else with cancer, please don't worry about it. We're not mad at you. I just want you to understand that you don't need to have handy a perky response that's gonna make everything peachy keen. That response DOESN'T exist. And we're NOT looking for you to solve it for us. As much as you'd like to, you just can't.

Side Note: You know how we give men such a hard time about trying to “fix” everything for us when we just want them to listen? We even get into groups and talk about this phenomenon, right? Newsflash: When you say these things, YOU are doing the same thing! Interesting…isn’t it?

So, here's what it comes down to, we (women with cancer) know that you don't have the answers because, we don't either. What we probably need is for you just to listen. If what we're describing is tough and you don't know what to say. It's OK to say, "That's rough/terrible/awful (insert ANY bad adjective here), I don't know what to say." Or, "Is there any way that I can help?" Or, "I can't imagine what that's like.” Or, “I'm praying for you." Or, maybe there ARE no words, maybe it's just a hug that we need. That's OK, too.

Why I Fight...

Some people will tell you that they're a lover not a fighter. I never was one of those people, and if I said it, it was a lie. Others are geared up to fight for anything at anytime for any reason. As long as they're fighting, it's good. That was me in my 20's usually after an incredible amount of Stoli or Patron, and I do mean an incredible amount. Some say that fighting is never the answer. They don't have sons to raise I'd guess... No matter, I am none of these people.

But, fighting looks different to me these days. First, I do a lot less of it than I used to because I don't like conflict. That said, I'm also not afraid of conflict. But, I prefer to get along and don't let small or petty things stick around in my mind to fester and grow. I've learned to forgive people for mistakes that I would have held on to before. And I've learned to ask for forgiveness when I am wrong. It happens regularly. Now, I'd just rather fight something than someone. That brings us to cancer, and I am ready for this fight.

I never thought I'd say this, but I can't wait until Friday. Three days to go...I expected to be anxious, concerned, scared even. I am NONE of those things. Not even close! Instead, I am clear about what's about to happen. My doctors and I are about to throw everything in the arsenal at the mere possibility that a cancer cell or two has managed to remain in my body. FOUR drugs at once. One to attack the cancer cell's DNA, one to mess up its mitosis, one to turn off the HER2 protein that makes it reproduce rapidly, and one to inhibit it being able to create a blood supply. It is time to fight. FINALLY!! 93 days after finding out about this cancer, I finally get to begin the fight! Chemo Round #1 is almost here.

Then I get to fight 8 days later when I go for my buzz cut on the 3rd. I'm actually not only no longer crying about that, I'm looking forward to it as well. I'm not sitting around waiting to lose something, anxious, wondering, hoping. Nope. My hair is supposed to go on our retreat. Now, how can I go off in the woods with Jesus worried that my hair is going to fall out and get anything out of the retreat? Besides, how traumatic would it be for the poor women who have to bunk with me. "Yeah, the retreat was great until one of the ladies in my cabin had all of her hair fall out in the middle of the night. We thought wild animals had been through the place!" That's no good for anyone.

Interestingly enough when I went for my chemo class, I mentioned that I was going to buzz it early. The other 3 women in the room audibly gasped and simultaneously said, "NO!! You don't want to do that! Hang on to it as long as you can!" Why? It's going to go anyway. Now it's just going on my terms. I will NOT sit around captive waiting for this to "happen to me" like a victim. Instead, every yucky thing that has to be done is one step closer to saying bye to cancer and starting the rest of my life. Besides, it's really is just hair. The cancer can't take it from me if I beat it to it.

I also fight with prayer. I have many others praying as well. If you're one of them, Thank you for praying for me. If not, please start now. Here's what I'm praying for: I'm praying that each drug as it flows through my body finds and executes it's task with 100% accuracy and efficacy. I pray for the protection of my heart, prevention of bleeding, and minimal neuropathy. (Those are the most serious possible short & long term side effects.) As for the nausea and vomiting? Child's play in comparison. Besides, I have a 20 year resume and a PhD for that including 2 near fatal bouts of e-coli poisoning. It can't be worse than that because it won't include acute kidney pain.

But all of this is How I Fight. I titled this entry Why I Fight. Why is so much more important than how. So here's why...

I fight for my unbelievably handsome baby who has suddenly become a real boy. He's a boy that told me for the 3rd time in 2 days how much he loves God and why. He's a boy I can help influence to become a man of character. We need men of character in this world! They are an endangered species. There is no more important reason to fight than to see him become that man.

I fight for my entire family, especially my mom and sister who love & need me. Without me, there would be no one in our family to scoop up the "insta-grievers" when things go wrong and hold it together while Dad figures out the logistics of how who gets where. I love my entire family incredibly. Incidentally, I'm also the kid that gets the "If we die on our vacation...here's where all the papers are" conversation every time Mom and Dad leave town. (I hate that conversation, but am crystal clear on where the papers are by now.)

But even more importantly, I fight for the life God created me to lead. It's a life I spent 18 years running from, only to hurt myself. I have no idea what that's going to look like, where it will take me, or or who's going on the journey with me. But, I know that if I can serve others, share my story, surrender and keep my focus on Him, He will take me there. And, it will be better than I could have ever imagined. Now tell me, how could I not be pumped up to fight?

All or Nothing? I choose ALL...

So yesterday afternoon, I got the call that I have been waiting for. We've know what the majority of my treatment plan was going to be for some time. I was always getting 6 rounds of Taxotere and Carboplatin. They're common breast cancer chemos often used in combination. I affectionately call them the Barf/Bald combo...They bring my recurrence risk down to 15%. We were also going to add a full year of Herceptin every 3 weeks since I happen to have the scary HER2+ super-aggressive type of cancer. That wonderful drug brings me down to 5-7% recurrence. It has heart risks, but they are NOT common and as I have now found out occur most commonly when in combination with a different chemo regimen than mine. So, I'm not going to worry about that. It's all in God's hands anyway. So why worry? Matt 6:27 tells us, "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" That'd be none of us! Yet in our broken humanity we spend an awful lot of time doing it. I should probably have that one tattooed on my hand so I'd always see it. I'm certainly guilty of worrying. (Just figurative speech, Mom/Dad...no need for a "tattoo intervention".)

I also mentioned many posts ago that I had signed up for a clinical trial for an additional drug called Avastin. This drug has been very successful for stage 3 and 4 cancers, but hasn't been tested on those of us that have stages 1 or 2. The idea is that it might make recurrence even less likely. Knowing my all or nothing personality, how could I not sign up? So, I did and decided that it was up to God to either give it to me, or not. If it can help me or some other woman down the line, then I am ready to give it a go. If not, and someone else needs it more, I asked that He give it to them.

So My clinical trial nurse who's taking care of me at the oncologist office called to say that my info was randomized yesterday and I'm getting the drug! So, we're 6 days away from getting things going with all 4 drugs at once. I can't help but be thrilled about that. That's great! There's nothing else in the arsenal that I'm not throwing at this thing. All or nothing? I choose ALL, every time. So, now I'm pumped up for the fight. Hurry up and wait is over in a few days and between now and then, I'm so busy that I can't even think about it.

Sick or no sick, bald, whatever. Now we're making progress. This is the beginning of getting this all behind me. A year from now, treatment will be over. I can have my last surgery, and will be new and improved from where I started. I don't just mean that physically either. I can't wait to see where God's going to take me through this in my dependence on Him. I've already changed in a couple short months. How much more will I learn about surrender over the next 12-13? I've spent a couple years praying dangerous prayers like, "Use me any way you wish...". I don't know how this figures in exactly, but I'm sure it does. So, I can't wait to see where it takes me. I have a suspicion, it just might be better that I could have imagined. And for that, I am already so thankful.

OK, here we go...

What a couple of days! I am officially recovered from one of the worst bouts of food poisoning that I have ever experienced. One bad hamburger and I was down for the count for 2 days. I'm not quite sure that I've ever experienced that level of violence in sickness, and that's saying a lot! It turned out to be a good thing in retrospect. I figured some things out in the process. First of all, my doctors assure me that if chemo makes me as sick as I have been this week, then they aren't doing their jobs. After what's happened the last couple of days, I am accepting that on faith. Surely they are right about that. Either way we're about to find out. Even if it's not true, I survived that. So, I should survive this as well.

Today was a busy day in the doctor visit department. I went to the plastic surgeon's office to get my first tissue expansion since surgery the first thing this morning. It was truly weird. He took out this magnet, ran it across my skin to find the valve in the expander and made a mark. Then I watched he and the nurse pump an additional 150 cc's of saline into each of them. The strangest part was how casual it is to them and bizarre it was to me. I'm lying there watching my chest grow while my doc is talking about moving furniture. So, I walked in wearing my falsies and walked out without them. Yeah!! No more stuffed boobs! I don't need them anymore. I am so excited about that. I'm not back to normal just yet, but this is a big step. I'm headed back in a couple of weeks to do it all over again and take one more step toward being fixed. Slow and steady...

After that I ran off to the Cardiologist office and had the EKG. No big deal there. Then it was off to the Oncologist for my echo. All thing look normal as I approach the big day of chemo #1. We're a week away at this point. The closer I get, the better I feel about it. I think "hurry up and wait" and letting your imagination run wild on all of the possibilities is worse than the actual treatment. I'll know for sure a week from tomorrow. I've come to terms with the fact that it could go either way. Since everyone is different, I may actually handle the treatment well or I might not. It's completely in His hands. I'm done worrying about it.

I'm not to happy about the prescription that I filled this afternoon. I now have a steroid that I have to take the night before and the morning of chemo. I'm still not clear on how this is going to go down. Steroids make me eat like an entire football team, and chemo makes you sick...that just doesn't conjure up any good images at all. The crazy thing is the list of side effects. I'm not quite sure how you're supposed to know if you're having them. There's so many and they're so varied. Combine that with all of the other medications and you have no idea if you're actually having a side effect or not. Half of the side effects are the reason you're taking one of the others! If not, the rest are completely contradictory. Not sure how the same drug can have drowsiness and sleeplessness at the same time. But I am sure that if I throw up what appears to be coffee grounds, something has gone terribly wrong. I don't think I needed them to tell me that...

I'm also done with the hair grief. (Disclaimer: That's not to say I won't relapse.) The truth is, it WILL grow back. I'm not going to enjoy it, but millions of women have done, it and I'm nothing special. So like them, I will do it too. I think getting rid of the stuffed falsies helped with that as well. At least I won't have to wear the fake boobs in my shirt at the same time as the fake hair. That's a plus. I'm looking forward to getting this all behind me and the only way to do that is to go through it. So I guess, here we go.

Good Grief...

My very first semester as a Freshman at Texas, both of my paternal Grandparents died within a few weeks of each other. It seems that they just couldn't be separated even by death. I had exams on the day of each of their funerals and wasn't able to make the trip to Houston to attend either service. I cried when I got the news, but I really grieved a full 3 years later. I loved them both so much. I can't even remember what triggered it when it happened. It could have been anything, a smell, a memory, a story...I have no idea. But, I remember the wave of grief when it struck me full force, and I still miss them. I can hear Grandmommy's laughter still. It was so unique...

When we buried my Mamaw in 1995, I was torn between overwhelming sadness and strange relief. You see, she had been so sick for so long that it seemed cruel that she was still here the last couple of years. The Matriarch of our family, the ROCK, the miracle worker who could solve any problem known to man it seemed had lain helpless and incoherent for what seemed like an eternity. She was the greatest example of a godly woman that I have ever known. When she died she didn't know any of us, but the nurses said she died singing hymns. Those she never forgot because Jesus was the center of her universe. Thankfully, I know where she is, but I have never stopped grieving. I don't think I will. The world changed for the worst on the day she left it. And at odd times and with certain memories, Mom and I still cry together.

Grief is a strange animal. It affects everyone differently. For some it's immediate, for others it's delayed. (I think I'm the only woman in my family that falls into the latter category.) I think it's better if you can grieve right away. It seems like it wouldn't be as disorienting...but I don't know because it's never happened for me like that. So, when I was laying on the table waiting for my first sonogram after 9 films at the mammogram machine on June 29th, I can't explain this but I knew. We hadn't even found the tumor, but lying there on that table one solitary thought ran through my head..."Are we ready for this?" And as quick as the question came so did the answer. "Yes." The rest of that appointment kind of seemed like everyone else in the office was just catching up to what I somehow already knew. The Dr. was a little surprised at my reaction when she told me. I thanked her for finding it like I lost my keys or something, dressed, and left without a tear. I did cry for about 20 seconds when I got to the car, but was finished before I was backed out of my parking space.

So for the last 4-5 days I have been walking around in the most fragile state. It's uncharacteristic of me, so also very uncomfortable. I've been looking at nothing but the floor everywhere I go. I haven't wanted anyone to see what's going on. I've kept to myself when at all possible at work, even tried to do the same thing at church Thursday night. Didn't work, but I made it through. I just haven't been able to put a finger on this emotional state that I have been in. In fact I've pegged it wrong for the last few days as guilt. Besides, with all the stinking pharmaceuticals there's really no reason I could figure it should be happening. I've got a pill for just about anything at this point.

But today my dear friend Sharon came to the Plano campus for church to see me instead of going to Grapevine. I was so happy to see her. We're both too busy to get to do that as much as we should. As soon as she got there, we found the secluded restroom where I proceeded to completely crack into a million little pieces. I pulled it together long enough to make it to the worship center where I promptly fell to pieces again. That's OK in church though. People just think you're unusually moved by the music or something. It all fell into place for me though this afternoon. I've not gone mad as I first suspected. I 'm simply grieving. It took 3 months almost, but here it is.

There's not one thing in my life that hasn't changed since this diagnosis. My responsibilities at work have changed. (That's a good thing. I actually love a new challenge in that arena. And it has nothing to do with stupid cancer!) But at the same time, my plans for the next 2 years have gone out the window. Two years without Mexico...No beach for 2 years? Sounds kind of trivial, but for me it's huge. We've chopped up my body. I have started this year long "repair job" with tissue expanders. (I can't even begin to tell you how weird that whole business is.) The trauma over the hair that I've been whining about is just an outward display of the wreckage that's already occurred in less obvious ways.

Then, today I volunteered in the nursery like I have for almost 5 years. I volunteer in the nursery every weekend. It's part of me, part of my identity. There is nothing more important that I do in any given week. For that hour parents trust us to care for their brand new babies so that they can spend an hour in worship. For some of them it might be the only hour that week they get to spend with God. I pray for those children, their families, their futures. It's the most fulfilling thing I do besides being a mother. And it's work. You sweat, even! Every week I go to the service hot and sweaty! But I love it. After next week, I can't do it anymore. Chemo makes the babies dangerous to me. I won't have the immune system to do it. That was the straw that broke the camel's back today. It put me on the floor. Just one more thing...

Tonight though it's different, I'm OK. I'm still grieving, but not in desperation. I owe that to my mom and her favorite scripture. 2 Corinthians 12:9 is where Paul tells us, "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness'." My weakness is necessary. All of the tiny little pieces, a must. His grace IS sufficient, and I'm counting on His strength because I am nothing but weak at this point. Doesn't mean I won't have more days like these, but thankfully it's not my strength that'll put me back together again.