not a ticket to a cake walk...

Sometimes I hesitate to write a blog & even talk myself out of it. Why? Because my blogs have been known to cause my loved ones too much pain. When I speak of the atrocities of cancer, they think I am suffering. I have suffered in the past from the pangs of cancer, but now I write as a voice for future patients, newly diagnosed cancer patients, & for those with recurrence. Yes, an aggressive case of cancer sticks with you for a lifetime, the scars remain, some mental gymnastics continue to be necessary, & there are always a few scares along the way, but for the most part, I am healed in body & mind (minus my other health issues, Lol).

It has taken time, counseling, friendship, healing, & faith to get to this point, & I realize it could all be snatched out from under me in the blink of an eye, but for today, I am well (both physically & emotionally). Early on, my middle daughter wrote out the words of an old church hymn for me... "Heart of mine own heart, Whatever befall, Still be my vision, O Ruler of all." These are the last 2 lines of "Be Thou My Vision" that my young adult daughter had the wisdom to find in the heart of my crisis. I found these words online. I found them written on a plaque. I displayed them where I could always see them. I wrote them in my mind & in my heart, & I clung to them for dear life.

When a friend or loved one hurts (for whatever reason), I pray for their healing, & I also pray that they will be mindful of God's presence. People generally want a miracle. Who wouldn't? Who really wants to live with the life long fear & impact of cancer? No one. However, I maintain there are worse things that could happen in life: a child being kidnapped, being gassed to death in Syria, & atrocities such as those. Perspective matters.

I believe God's presence in my life is greater than any miracle. His presence can & will sustain me through any nightmare. I may stand in the storms of life, but with God, I will stand. That does not mean my long prayed for miracle will come. It doesn't mean I won't suffer, or even die. It just means that whatever  befalls, I will not be alone. It means that if I am taken from this earth, I will be where I am meant to be at long last in Heaven.

God's presence isn't a ticket to a cake walk or an escape from the "things" in life that cause sheer anguish. No, His presence is His grace along with His Holy Spirit (Comforter, Counselor, etc). It means I am not alone whatever befalls, & it keeps my eyes open to more than myself. It keeps God as my Vision, & I believe it reminds me that others are suffering too. Even as I suffer, I need to pray for them & be of comfort. This world is not about lil ol' me. I couldn't be more thankful!

I cry.

I am writing this blog for all the sweet friends & family I have lost to cancer, any kind of cancer. People talk about how cancer is the small "c," & Christ is the big "C." Ultimately, I believe that will always be true. The reality remains, however, that cancer is a powerful beast! It's a monster, a predator, a thief in the night that preys upon unsuspecting souls. I know I am using strong words, but frankly, I don't have strong enough words to describe cancer.

It disrupted my life unsuspectingly 6 years ago this coming summer. I think perhaps I was at one of the happiest & healthiest times of my life. I was riding my bike 10 miles a day. We had just taken a cruise to see my son in law play his trumpet on the big ship. My middle daughter was planning her wedding. Life was good.

Suddenly, one Sunday night, a lump was discovered which would alter everything about my life. Thing is, I had no idea the changes it would bring. Yes, I am still alive! Yes, I am grateful more than I have words to express. BUT, in the last (almost) six years, I have watched too many kind souls die from cancer. I have been robbed of much myself, but at the same time, I have been blessed abundantly with more than I could ever imagine. I can only thank God for that!

So... here's to my dad (tho' it's been 22 years, such a deep loss even now), my mom (had cancer among other health issues), Chauncey, Elizabeth, Brenda, Cybil Sue, Linda, & so many others. You see, the outlook of cancer is bleak. Yes, great strides are being made, but at the same time, people are still dying from cancer. If the DNA of cancer can be tracked, why are people still dying?

I do not have a medical brain.  Maybe you have the answer to my question. My only HOPE is in the big "C" (Christ) & in research. If I understand correctly, the new budget proposal cuts funding for cancer research dramatically. The National Institutes of Health budget will be reduced by $6 billion. I cry for our country & the people who stand to be hurt by this budget (not just today's cancer survivors, but future cancer survivors too).

NO ONE is IMMUNE to CANCER!  I have mentioned those who have passed, but I cannot ignore the young women who fight for their lives. Also, those who are BrCa positive & fear not only for their own lives but the lives of their precious offspring. There is my beloved & brilliant friend who just had a double mastectomy & a hysterectomy. She's only in her 30's! There's my vibrant friend whose metastatic cancer has returned with a vengeance!

Here's what goes on inside a cancer support group I attend, a group which usually has about 15 members present but the # & the faces vary from month to month: fear of lumps, fear of surgeries, marriage issues, fear of children losing their mama, children losing their mama, lack of symmetry, death, recurrence of cancer, return of metastatic cancer, lymphedema, chemo brain, loss of femininity, low self esteem, loss of hair, fear of the unknown, PET scans regularly, tears, laughter, faith, heartache, support...

It is my belief that if you find a way to support cancer, you are helping all cancers. Research is research. A breakthrough for one cancer can lead to a breakthrough for all cancers. I realize I am almost 6 years out. Yay me! Yay me for every day I have lived in the moment not being robbed of my joy! However, my odds do not improve, my life will never go back to 10 mile bike rides, & chemo has done a number on my brain & my neuromuscular disease. Please realize cancer does not define me, but it has stripped me of more than I am able to explain in this blog. Daily, I cannot escape its ruins.

So... I beg of you, please in the name of Chauncey, Elizabeth, Brenda, Cybil Sue, Linda & so many others, give to TEAM SWEET POTATAS! In the name of those who suffer now (Shelly, Jaq, young women having prophylactic surgeries, Diane, Bilinda, Ann & many more.) In the name of those who will be diagnosed tomorrow; they just don't know it. In the name of the budget proposal, please give & give generously. TEAM SWEET POTATAS needs your help but more importantly, people with names & lives need your help!

IMPOSTERS

When I decided a few weeks ago to pick up this blog, & give it a go, I didn't waste much time thinking about it. I love writing, but lately, I just haven't had the words. I was thinking about my team, Team Sweet Potatas, & trying to figure out how in the world I will reach my goal of $10,000. The only thing I can think to do is write about the the Breast Cancer Survivor. You see, I know her. You may know me, but I don't know if you know the fabric of which I am made.

My fabric no longer has the beauty of youth, & it wouldn't even if I never had cancer. I am one of the lucky ones. (If you believe in luck. I don't). But, for the most part, my scars are hidden. Yes, they are real but few people ever see them.  My clothes cover them, & so people who don't know me probably would not know I am a Survivor unless I choose to tell them.

I have 2 eye brows which are not my originals. They look nothing like my originals, & I am okay with that. They are tattoos. I have implants, & they are what I call imposters. They are pretenders, not my originals. As the tee shirt says, "My real ones tried to kill me." These fakes don't feel like me either, but truth is, I am okay with that too. My worth has never come from them, & that is probably a good thing since what I have in their place is really no comparison.

I had radiation, & now my radiated skin is deteriorating. This radiated skin causes a multitude of problems, but few people understand what that means. My Radiologist explained all of this to me before radiation, but it had little meaning at the time. How do you understand something when you have no mental picture, no reference point? The information you are receiving is incomprehensible.

Well... there's a few other problems too, but I will get to them a little at a time. If this bores you, I understand  & beg you to disregard this blog. There's so much to share, but then, what is TMI? Sometimes it's hard to know, & then I must ask, will this further my cause? I hope so. Knowledge is power, right? So... I figure the more I share, the more the reader will understand the need for a cure. Hopefully, people will give generously. Feel free to give to any team. It all helps the same cause. We need a cure.

As I share with you, I am inviting you to become acquainted with the fabric that makes me. It's not the same fabric that once knit me together. It has a few patches, some rips & tears, holes, is shredded in places, & perhaps has some new pretty patterns. Sometimes I don't recognize my own fabric. It's unique, & it won't match that of any other Survivor. However, there are common threads that we all share. Some of my problems are universal Breast Cancer problems. Some of them are a bit rare, & some of them might belong only to me. Welcome to my world. Please feel free to comment, ask questions, or disregard this blog altogether. It may not be your cup of tea.

May 13th

It's that time of year where I find out who my friends really are. If you don't disown me on or before May 13 (this year's Race for The Cure), either you have a high tolerance for redundancy, or you really are my friend. I don't repeatedly share facts about Breast Cancer because it's my passion, although it is. I don't beg for money because I enjoy bugging people. I don't. I ask you to give from the heart simply to save lives. As almost everyone knows, my life changed 5 years ago. I went to bed one Sunday night knowing I had a new found lump. Two days later, I sat in the office with a doctor hearing those words I never wanted to hear.

Breast Cancer has always been one of my greatest fears. I've always had anxiety. When you take a person with anxiety & tell her that her worst fear has come true, you have a basket case. Prior to that moment, I lived my life pretending everything would be okay. When a worry came my way, I would ask my husband if he thought everything would be okay. He would humor me by saying "yes," & I would pretend he had a crystal ball. This worked well until that moment, that life changing moment.

I couldn't pretend anymore. Neither of us knew if my life would be okay, & we knew we didn't know. I was too horrified to ask my husband his thoughts. By the end of the week, I had a scary diagnosis & a treatment plan. I'm sure I had PTSD too. I couldn't sleep, but when I did, I awoke with a heavy heart. I could not escape that awful feeling of fear. I was suddenly hearing words that sounded like a foreign language. I needed an interpreter. I didn't know that my life would never be the same. I didn't know that I would live the rest of my life in a brain fog.

I had no idea that the chemo I was given would cause a neuromuscular disease I already had to progress. Losing my hair was humbling, but losing my ability to process information has been much worse. My hair grew back; my brain still has trouble thinking clearly. My memory is like "50 First Dates." If you tell me something in confidence, don't worry about me sharing it. I won't remember it. I had no idea the toll this rotten disease & its treatments would take on me & my family. They would suffer too, just in a different way.

So here I am. I have just survived another cancer scare. All is well. Some of my relationships are strained because I am changed. I wish I could understand things more easily. I feel as though my social graces are at times no longer second nature. Having memory loss is both a blessing & a curse. I forget important details. However, I don't dread things like I used to because I don't remember my upcoming events. I only tell you all of this so you will understand why I am again beginning my yearly mission.

Please donate to TEAM SWEET POTATAS.  You can search for my team on the Susan G. Komen website. Click on The Race for The Cure & then choose Peoria, IL. She (Susan G. Komen) saved my life. Please give whatever you can. Who knows who will be diagnosed next? No one is immune. Not even those with crystal balls. The farther a Survivor gets from her diagnosis, the harder it is to raise money. Please help me if you can. The sooner TEAM SWEET POTATAS reaches her goal of $10,000, the sooner I'll stop begging.

THIEF

As I sit down to write this blog, I don't know if I am writing it for me or for you, maybe for the both of us. It is not going to necessarily be a "feel good" read. That's my disclaimer, so if you don't want to read my introspective thoughts, feel free to X out right now. If you are still with me, please do not be concerned for me that I am in a bad or sad place. I think I am in a good place, just lots of deep thoughts (some of which are sad), but I find myself in a place of reality. I believe in living in reality. I am not a glass half empty person by any means. I am also not an "I am blessed" person. Yes, I am richly blessed in more ways than I could ever share, but still, at times, I grieve.

I have recently seen 3 thought provoking movies which I realize are in part responsible for how I am thinking & feeling. All 3 of them have impacted me greatly. I find myself thinking about them & trying to make sense of the truths they conveyed. I am not sure trying to "make sense" of truth is even possible. So, maybe it is better just to accept the truth for what it is. One of my dear friends lives by the creed, "It is what it is." I don't find her creed particularly comforting, but it is an acceptance of the truth.

I have always believed in seeing the glass half full. However, I do not believe in minimizing the empty half of the glass. I don't know if dwelling on the empty part of the glass is productive or healthy, but I believe it is a necessary part of living in the moment. Grief comes in many forms, & I don't think we allow ourselves to grow as human beings if we are not in touch with our heartaches & at least able to admit them to ourselves.
I think being cognizant of our grief is an honesty we owe to ourselves. Stuffing "it" just doesn't work.

If our grief robs us of our joy, I believe that is okay. It's painful, but it's honest. As I have thought about the messages of these 3 movies, my own place in life at this time, & the current place of so many people I know, I realize "game changers" occur in life which do not allow our existence to return to what we once knew as "normal." I believe that is where grief takes flight.

Sometimes "game changers" catch us by surprise. Other times, we see them coming. They become a part of our lives with or without permission. They are out of our control, even if we had a part in causing them. Perhaps we made a bad decision, or the game changer came like a thief in the night, forever robbing us of the life we once knew. I believe the only control we have in these life changing experiences is HOW we are going to face them.

Here is the part of the "game changer" I am just beginning to grasp. Sometimes, because a tragedy is so great or a person is unable to heal emotionally, resolution does not occur, & living a changed life is unbearable. Relationships cannot always be mended, & people remain stuck forever in a state of grief. I believe we all have a glass which is half empty or half full (depending on how we see it). I believe we all face circumstances which if given permission will put us over our edge. Some people have more "grit" than others. Somehow, they have the capacity to heal & even find beauty in disastrous situations that would leave many of us in a dysfunctional state at best. Accepting that sometimes resolution does not occur is sometimes unacceptable to me. Seeing a person unable to heal (forever walking through this life in a state of grief) is one of the most painful things I know. It likely is understandable, but in reality, so very sad.


Note: The 3 movies which impacted this blog are,,, Collateral Beauty, Fences, & Manchester by the Bay.

Merry & Bright (or not)

Over the last 5 years, I believe I have always taken time to write a Christmas blog. This beautiful season elicits so many memories. Even tho' it starts much earlier than it did in my childhood, it still goes too fast for me. Even tho' I am too old for Santa, I will always love him. I think grief often causes the depression that so many feel this time of year. That's not rocket science, but I think the reality of the hurting people around us needs to be noted at the very least.

The stress of this season on top of the stress people already feel is too much for some... the spending, the baking, Christmas programs, shopping, wrapping, Christmas cards, decorations, family gatherings (or no family to gather), losses, sickness, expectations (some filled with dread), & so much more. Add that to whatever a loved one is already going through, & it's a good recipe for emptiness, sadness, or anxiety.

Over the last few days, I have heard 2 loved ones say sad things about what they are feeling. One hates Christmas; the other just wants it to be over. It breaks my heart that what is meant to be a lovely time of year is in fact not lovely at all. The very first Christmas was filled with much hardship & stress. A teenage girl was told she would give birth to Our Savior. Problem was, she was not yet married & would be considered a disgrace to society. Her betrothed, Joseph, had to make a terrible decision. If he left her, who would do his job? Who would care for her? If he stayed with her, he would be a disgrace too.

God put in place proof for those who would seek. There was Mary's cousin, Elizabeth, who would give  birth to her son, John the Baptist, 3 months earlier than Mary would deliver Jesus in a dirty place with smelly animals & prickly straw.  He would prepare the way of the Lord in his adult life. There was the bright star in the East which would later lead the 3 wise men to Jesus. The Old Testament was filled with prophecies that would teach us much about the birth of Christ. With all the proof that existed, which is far more than what I just noted, there were still skeptics.

If you are struggling this Christmas, I encourage you to simplify. You don't have to accomplish everything on your list. I no longer send cards, & for the first time ever, I am not baking Christmas cookies. I asked a friend to help me wrap my gifts. I started the month feeling overwhelmed. Simplifying has relieved much stress. As for sadness, losses, the things that make us depressed at Christmas, I make sure to focus on the birth of Our Savior. I allow my mind to linger into areas of sadness, but I cannot resist thinking about the true & beautiful reason for this most wonderful (or most stressful) time of year.

Lastly, doing a kindness for another person or family warms the heart faster than any therapy I know. Be Santa for a struggling family. Shop for a child who has a parent(s) in prison. Help someone wrap their gifts. Bake someone fudge. Pay it forward in a drive-thru. Drop a bill or 2 in the Salvation Army bucket. Visit a nursing home & deliver pretty Christmas cards to the residents. Go caroling. Take a meal to a homeless person, or even a warm blanket, or a coat. Share the Christmas story with a child. Pray for someone. Make a list of all the good you can do, & then do the top 3. Clean someone's home. Do their laundry. Grocery shop for them. Help out at a soup kitchen. Babysit for free. Whatever you do, do it in the true Spirit of the season. See if it doesn't end up brightening your own Christmas too.

It happened again...

So... it just happened again. My eyes welled up with tears. That lump, there it was again, in my throat. I wasn't sure I heard the words I thought I heard. But... he continued. "No," I cried inside, "not these words!" When will I stop hearing them? I walked out to my car. I sat in my seat stunned. My husband was saying something to me, but I couldn't hear his words. No, I could only hear the words I didn't want to hear. I could only focus on those awful words. "Why, Lord? Why? I trust your sovereignty, I do. But, why? Why do I keep hearing these words that sting & burn to my very core. "

I don't have any answers to my heartbroken questions. I don't think this side of Heaven I ever will. I love my friends. Each one is so dear to my heart. When my friend hurts, I hurt. That's just who I am. I am unable to dismiss myself from the heartfelt tears my friends cry. It's that "c" word. You know, the one the plaques say cannot steal your faith, rob you of your joy, steal your memories, etc. It's the Little "c." You know, the one that  has no power over the Big "C."

Who's trying to kid who? Little "c" does rob you of your joy. It messes with your head. It sits in your throat bigger than the lump that manifests itself in my throat when I cry. It sits on my heart, heavier than the hurt I felt after my double mastectomy. Little "c" knows no bounds. It does not respect age, size, gender, class, smarts, or anything else. Little "c" disturbs faith. Little "c" wreaks havoc on relationships. Little "c" makes pretenders out of people.

Little "c" is random. People try to second guess Little "c," but being unpredictable is part of Little "c's" act. Some people think Little "c" does its damage & walks away, over, forever. That is not usually the case. Little "c" loves to haunt its victims. Little "c" loves to hang around long after the surgery & treatment end.

Once Little "c" makes itself known, confusion follows. Tears well up. The victim is vulnerable. Isolation often ensues. Bewilderment sets in. It's those words. It's that look in the doctor's eyes. It's watching your mate throw up his heart. It's ache. The pain varies from one family member to another, but suffering is the new mode. Nerves are fried like hairs on the head after a bad perm.

So... I heard those painful words again, not for myself but for my friend. I heard those words for a mommy. I heard them for someone near my age. I heard them for my cousin. I heard them for a homemaker. I even heard them for my husband's friend. Those words, those words have taken 2 of my friends. Those words are banging at the door of 2 of my friends now, threatening their lives. I don't like those words. If I never hear them again, that would be too soon. Those words torment. They stain, & they scar.

Written for:  My Friend