Today has been a full one. But, I have to start by sharing the BIG news. :-) The doctor called this afternoon to say that my scans and blood work have shown that there are no other tumors in my body. :-) He said that this is the MOST IMPORTANT thing.
I was dreading this call, and also anticipating it. I wanted to know the news, but only if it was GOOD news. What a relief to receive such a great report!
On Wednesday, April 7th, my cancer and I will be parting company. I think it's hitch-hiked inside my body for long enough. It's time to go. :-) So long, farewell! :-) I think that it's served it's purpose--- it has my caught my attention, and there are lessons to be learned from this experience. God and I will continue this journey minus the tumor.
The doctor said the surgery day is going to be a long one. I'll arrive at first thing in the morning, and 1 1/2 hours later a wire will be placed. An hour after that, dye will be injected to "light up" any areas that will need to be removed during surgery. We need to allow the dye two hours to do it's job, and then the surgery will begin. I'll be "out" for the operation, and I'm very nervous about having the anesthesia. I lost a puppy under anesthesia once time. So, blog followers, please pray specifically for calmed nerves when it's time to be "put out". The surgery will last for 1 to 1 1/2 hours. The doctor will do a lumpectomy (my choice) and he'll also remove some nodes. After recovery, I should be home by dinner-time. How wonderful it will be to go home WITHOUT the cancer!
It's strange, because what I'm worrying about MORE than the surgery is how I'm going to pull 0ff my daughter-in-law's baby shower three days later! I asked the doctor if I can still host it. He said I will be sore and tired, and that I can ATTEND AND ENJOY it, but no lifting, etc.
Okay, approximately 40 people have been invited. I have a lot of work to do! I still want to have the shower, and I want Kanaho to really enjoy her special day. I'm feeling overwhelmed about this---
I'll have some help, but there are the things that I do that no one else does...how to do them! Maybe this is one of those "let go" lessons in life? :-D
And, how do I get the baby from her crib, change her diaper, put her in the high chair, wait on the twins for their needs? Lots and lots to think about. It's a good thing there's a week to figure it all out. Ha!
I went to a breast cancer support group today. My first impression was that all the ladies there look good! They're healthy! They are at varying stages... most have recovered, some are still on medications, etc. They were so open and welcoming. Each one offered one piece of helpful advice. I appreciated each and every one of them and what they shared. I'll go back! :-)
One lady said something that really stood out to me. She said she doesn't like to think of "fighting cancer" or "battling cancer". She prefers to look at it like she's got a friend that needs to leave. So, she helps it leave. I LOVE IT! I think that it's exhausting to think of it as a fight. That's got a negative connotation to it. So, I'm adopting her viewpoint. My little hitch-hiker needs to leave and I'm taking steps to escort it out the door. :-)
The doctor is very very helpful. He said that I can call at any time with questions, and if he's busy he'll call back. I told him that when we get to the point of meeting with oncologists, I'll want a second opinion regarding treatment suggestions. He firmly said that he will help me do that, and he'll help me find someone to give me that second opinion. I feel like my doctor is on my side. This gives me confidence!
The day began at 12:00 AM when my little girl decided that it'd be cool to get up and play until well after 3:00 AM. Later in the morning I enjoyed a special time of baby registry creating at a store with my expectant daughter-in-law and my oldest daughter. Having that little grandbaby to look forward to his a real "bright spot" right now. :-)
Well, it's time to bring this very busy day to a close. Chinese food and a movie are on the agenda!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Bone Scan done! CHECK!
Three more bites of elephant down! :-) I sensed the prayers of others today when going for the bone scan. It went well and the radiologist told the technician to tell me that everything looked good. :-) Thank you, Lord! WHAT a relief!
The doctor had said he'll call once all of the scans have been done, so maybe he'll be calling this week? I cannot emphasize enough how GLAD I am to have these tests overwith.
It's a bit freaky to know that I currently have radioactive material in my veins, and it was equally strange to go to Nuclear Medicine for the scan today. There's just something odd about the words "radioactive" and "nuclear" pertaining to one's body. Ha!
The only unnerving part of the scan was when the camera platform/table was lowered over my head for 3-5 minutes. I felt a bit trapped. It was cool, though, that Stephen was able to sit in the room and watch the entire process. We got to see pics of my skeleten. :-) The twins would have loved that part!
Between hospital appointments today we sneaked to Denny's for breakfast. :-) While there, I noticed that the Senior Citizen's Club was open to people ages 55 and up. I told Stephen "14 years!" lol That was a bit disheartening! lol Fifty-five seems young for a senior citizen discount! :-)
We have a good distraction in the house right now. We're planning for Kanaho's (my daughter-in-law's) April 10th baby shower. :-) That will help to fill the next several days with positive, happy things.
So thankful for the love, support, prayers and friendship of others. Those prayers are going a long... way these days!
The doctor had said he'll call once all of the scans have been done, so maybe he'll be calling this week? I cannot emphasize enough how GLAD I am to have these tests overwith.
It's a bit freaky to know that I currently have radioactive material in my veins, and it was equally strange to go to Nuclear Medicine for the scan today. There's just something odd about the words "radioactive" and "nuclear" pertaining to one's body. Ha!
The only unnerving part of the scan was when the camera platform/table was lowered over my head for 3-5 minutes. I felt a bit trapped. It was cool, though, that Stephen was able to sit in the room and watch the entire process. We got to see pics of my skeleten. :-) The twins would have loved that part!
Between hospital appointments today we sneaked to Denny's for breakfast. :-) While there, I noticed that the Senior Citizen's Club was open to people ages 55 and up. I told Stephen "14 years!" lol That was a bit disheartening! lol Fifty-five seems young for a senior citizen discount! :-)
We have a good distraction in the house right now. We're planning for Kanaho's (my daughter-in-law's) April 10th baby shower. :-) That will help to fill the next several days with positive, happy things.
So thankful for the love, support, prayers and friendship of others. Those prayers are going a long... way these days!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Medical Bills and Hair
The medical statements have started to pour into our mailbox. That didn't take long! This all began only 19 days ago and the ol' financial bargaining process has already begun between the insurance company and the medical providers. This is a good opportunity to say how thankful I am to have insurance. And, I'm grateful to my husband for the back-breaking work he does each weekday to make sure our family has that coverage.
One of the things that has been most upsetting to me about this cancer ordeal is the thought of losing my hair through the strong possibility of having chemotherapy treatments. I've given a lot of thought to wigs, hats, scarves... anything that would cover the baldness. I've pondered if a wig would be too hot to wear in the summer, if it'd look semi-natural, and where on earth I could find one. I've tried to view in my mind what a hat would look like pulled over a bare naked head. I think most women facing treatment probably give some thought to these things. It seems kind of crazy in a way, though, because there's something much bigger to consider than ones's physical appearance when cancer is a factor.
As a relative mentioned to me yesterday-- losing my hair is a small price to pay for treating and curing my cancer. That was a sobering and necessary remark to hear.
So, today, while showering my medium length hair and appreciating it while I still have it, I thought about how much money we'll save on the water bill when I won't have this hair to shampoo two times and condition one time each day! I called out to my husband "Hey, Stephen, I just thought of something! If I lose my hair, it won't take so much time for us to get ready to go somewhere!" I thought he'd split his side from laughing so hard. :-D
And, this morning, I cut the twins' hair as well as Stephen's with the electric trimmer set. Stephen wears his closely cut to his scalp, but not quite shaved off. I often tease him about being "bald", but today I told him that soon he'll have more hair than me! :-D
I think humor is going to be an essential ingredient in sanely getting through the next several months. That, but most of all, the prayers of others.
Bone scan tomorrow... dye at 10 AM and scan at 1 PM.
One of the things that has been most upsetting to me about this cancer ordeal is the thought of losing my hair through the strong possibility of having chemotherapy treatments. I've given a lot of thought to wigs, hats, scarves... anything that would cover the baldness. I've pondered if a wig would be too hot to wear in the summer, if it'd look semi-natural, and where on earth I could find one. I've tried to view in my mind what a hat would look like pulled over a bare naked head. I think most women facing treatment probably give some thought to these things. It seems kind of crazy in a way, though, because there's something much bigger to consider than ones's physical appearance when cancer is a factor.
As a relative mentioned to me yesterday-- losing my hair is a small price to pay for treating and curing my cancer. That was a sobering and necessary remark to hear.
So, today, while showering my medium length hair and appreciating it while I still have it, I thought about how much money we'll save on the water bill when I won't have this hair to shampoo two times and condition one time each day! I called out to my husband "Hey, Stephen, I just thought of something! If I lose my hair, it won't take so much time for us to get ready to go somewhere!" I thought he'd split his side from laughing so hard. :-D
And, this morning, I cut the twins' hair as well as Stephen's with the electric trimmer set. Stephen wears his closely cut to his scalp, but not quite shaved off. I often tease him about being "bald", but today I told him that soon he'll have more hair than me! :-D
I think humor is going to be an essential ingredient in sanely getting through the next several months. That, but most of all, the prayers of others.
Bone scan tomorrow... dye at 10 AM and scan at 1 PM.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Transference of Anger
I pity my Jollof Rice today. I really do! Ha! I spent a good part of my afternoon trying to make this tranditional Ghanaian food today. I carefully diced a selection of peppers, added chopped onion and shredded carrot. I prepared some delicious chicken to add to the mix. The dish came out TOO LIQUIDY. I have tried EVERYTHING to resolve the problem, but to no avail.
In tears, and out of sheer frustration, I have started over again, after dumping the first batch into the trash. I have cried. I have been grumpy.
When completely alone in the kitchen, I blurted out "I HATE CANCER!" This cancer is invading my cooking. My ability to enjoy normal activities. And, my life as I know it, at this moment.
LATER:
Stephen patiently helped me get the second batch to come out right. (I don't know how he was able to be so patient, because I was miserable to be around!) :-(
It's hard to get the long grain rice to come out right. The other ingredients are a snap to cook.
I can see that I was channeling a lot of frustration and anger about the cancer into the cooking challenge. My poor husband must have not known WHAT to do with his distraught wife! Ha! He deserves a medal!
Somehow, a nice long, comforting hug seemed to melt away all of the strong mixed emotions.
It's going to be a while before I try cooking Jollof rice again! Ha!
In tears, and out of sheer frustration, I have started over again, after dumping the first batch into the trash. I have cried. I have been grumpy.
When completely alone in the kitchen, I blurted out "I HATE CANCER!" This cancer is invading my cooking. My ability to enjoy normal activities. And, my life as I know it, at this moment.
LATER:
Stephen patiently helped me get the second batch to come out right. (I don't know how he was able to be so patient, because I was miserable to be around!) :-(
It's hard to get the long grain rice to come out right. The other ingredients are a snap to cook.
I can see that I was channeling a lot of frustration and anger about the cancer into the cooking challenge. My poor husband must have not known WHAT to do with his distraught wife! Ha! He deserves a medal!
Somehow, a nice long, comforting hug seemed to melt away all of the strong mixed emotions.
It's going to be a while before I try cooking Jollof rice again! Ha!
Scriptures
These verses were shared with me this morning by a friend from junior and senior high school:
"Thou are my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about; with songs of deliverance." Psalm 32:7
"For I the Lord your God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, saying Fear not; I will help thee." Isaiah 41:13
"Thou are my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about; with songs of deliverance." Psalm 32:7
"For I the Lord your God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, saying Fear not; I will help thee." Isaiah 41:13
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Contrast
Today is my oldest son's (Tyler's) 24th birthday. We're planning a small family party for him at our house, but I feel very tired and sick today. The contrast that I had to drink and from the IV for yesterday's scan has really upset my stomach. And, two of the little ones were up in the night: 12:30 a.m. and 5:30 a.m.
I want Tyler to have a nice party and make some good memories, but I feel like I need to go and sleep. I'm exhausted from the stress of this diagnosis and from having little sleep due to kids getting up for several nights. I cry easily today, and it feels like my body is moving in very slow motion. I can't seem to muster up the energy to do what I normally do.
Kaylee's decorating. Kanaho wants to learn how to cook the chicken alfredo for Tyler's dinner and wants me to teach her when she arrives. My elderly parents are on their way to spend the night at our house. The boys are very active and the baby is waking up from her nap. I'm frustrated about not having energy to "do" this day.
When we were at the store today, it seemed like we were in an airplane, because all of the voices in the background sounded muffled to me. It was really irritating. Any noise clutter grates on my nerves today.
I'm asking God to help me --- I want everyone who's coming, and especially Tyler, to have a good day.
I want Tyler to have a nice party and make some good memories, but I feel like I need to go and sleep. I'm exhausted from the stress of this diagnosis and from having little sleep due to kids getting up for several nights. I cry easily today, and it feels like my body is moving in very slow motion. I can't seem to muster up the energy to do what I normally do.
Kaylee's decorating. Kanaho wants to learn how to cook the chicken alfredo for Tyler's dinner and wants me to teach her when she arrives. My elderly parents are on their way to spend the night at our house. The boys are very active and the baby is waking up from her nap. I'm frustrated about not having energy to "do" this day.
When we were at the store today, it seemed like we were in an airplane, because all of the voices in the background sounded muffled to me. It was really irritating. Any noise clutter grates on my nerves today.
I'm asking God to help me --- I want everyone who's coming, and especially Tyler, to have a good day.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Scan One and Blood Work Done- CHECK!
I REALLY want to write in YELLOW today, SUNNY yellow!
I dreamed about cancer and had a bit of a restless night. When I woke up this morning I prayed "Lord, get me through this day. I need YOUR strength." Yesterday was a HARD day-- I think that I got a good glimpse of the valley, but today I've been climbing on prayers right back up to the top again.
Once up and around this morning, I could sense the prayer support of others was kicking into high gear, because I had a sense of peace. And, it's been a MUCH better day today.
This is a good place to share a verse that a lady from our church sent to me this week: "When they walk through the valley of weeping, it will become a place of refreshing springs, where pools of blessing collect after it rains!" Psalm 84:6
It was a huge blessing to have someone come in and do our weekly cleaning this morning (a gift from my mother). It took a load off of my shoulders. And, the carpenter finished the upstairs shower walls, completing about six weeks of work in our home. Done! No more early morning "invasions". :-)
Stephen and I went to the hospital for the bloodwork and the CAT Scan. Shortly after the lab work was done I remembered something my adult niece had shared with me yesterday regarding dealing with cancer: "How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time." So, after leaving the laboratory, I told Stephen "That was one bite!" :-)
We went to the imaging area and I thought I'd try the advice of a friend's husband-- ask if there's a cancellation list that I can get on for the bone scan scheduled for April 5th. When I explained to the receptionist that I had been told my appointment was for that date due to a shortage of dye, she looked like she'd heard the weirdest thing in the world. She said "Let me call upstairs for you and see if I can get a better answer than that." Soon after, she told me the problem had been resolved and asked how I'd like to come in next Tuesday, March 3oth, for that scan? I thanked her and told her she was goingt to make me cry! What a RELIEF! (Stephen said he felt like crying, too!) We said "Only God!" It was definitely a "God thing". :-)
While in the waiting room I phoned my father to let him knwo that the date had been changed, because he'd been planning to come to my home the day of the original appointment. I joked with him that we need to stop taking turns with each other for being hospitalized and having medical procedures! He used to visit me in the hospital when I was on bed rest with the twin pregnancy and again when I was expecting Kathryn. In between those deliveries, he had heart surgery and I was visiting him at the hospital.
Later, after we'd been moved to a prep. room, Stephen assuerd me that God's been taking care of me each step of the way already and that I was going to be okay.
I didn't know until a short time before my CAT Scan that I'd need an IV. I'm glad I didn't know that beforehand. :-)_ I had to drink two large servings of contrast. My stomach didn't appreciate it too much. Nasty stuff!
When I was being escorted to the scan room I told Stephen "I'll try to have some fun for you, too!" :-) I informed him that with this one, I was going to take a big bite out of the elephant's leg! :-)
The CAT Scan process itself was a bit unnerving, but they had some illustrations painted on a couple of the ceiling tiles above. One depicted some ducks swimming, and the other showed a water and landscape scene. I thought about how God is keeping the whole world in order (nature, etc.) and that if He can do that, He can take care of me! I was feeling unsettled as the bed moved in through the equipment the first time and whispered "Jesus?!" I sensed that He was right with me, the entire time.
I'd say the scan was worth THREE bites of elephant. What do you think? :-)
I dreamed about cancer and had a bit of a restless night. When I woke up this morning I prayed "Lord, get me through this day. I need YOUR strength." Yesterday was a HARD day-- I think that I got a good glimpse of the valley, but today I've been climbing on prayers right back up to the top again.
Once up and around this morning, I could sense the prayer support of others was kicking into high gear, because I had a sense of peace. And, it's been a MUCH better day today.
This is a good place to share a verse that a lady from our church sent to me this week: "When they walk through the valley of weeping, it will become a place of refreshing springs, where pools of blessing collect after it rains!" Psalm 84:6
It was a huge blessing to have someone come in and do our weekly cleaning this morning (a gift from my mother). It took a load off of my shoulders. And, the carpenter finished the upstairs shower walls, completing about six weeks of work in our home. Done! No more early morning "invasions". :-)
Stephen and I went to the hospital for the bloodwork and the CAT Scan. Shortly after the lab work was done I remembered something my adult niece had shared with me yesterday regarding dealing with cancer: "How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time." So, after leaving the laboratory, I told Stephen "That was one bite!" :-)
We went to the imaging area and I thought I'd try the advice of a friend's husband-- ask if there's a cancellation list that I can get on for the bone scan scheduled for April 5th. When I explained to the receptionist that I had been told my appointment was for that date due to a shortage of dye, she looked like she'd heard the weirdest thing in the world. She said "Let me call upstairs for you and see if I can get a better answer than that." Soon after, she told me the problem had been resolved and asked how I'd like to come in next Tuesday, March 3oth, for that scan? I thanked her and told her she was goingt to make me cry! What a RELIEF! (Stephen said he felt like crying, too!) We said "Only God!" It was definitely a "God thing". :-)
While in the waiting room I phoned my father to let him knwo that the date had been changed, because he'd been planning to come to my home the day of the original appointment. I joked with him that we need to stop taking turns with each other for being hospitalized and having medical procedures! He used to visit me in the hospital when I was on bed rest with the twin pregnancy and again when I was expecting Kathryn. In between those deliveries, he had heart surgery and I was visiting him at the hospital.
Later, after we'd been moved to a prep. room, Stephen assuerd me that God's been taking care of me each step of the way already and that I was going to be okay.
I didn't know until a short time before my CAT Scan that I'd need an IV. I'm glad I didn't know that beforehand. :-)_ I had to drink two large servings of contrast. My stomach didn't appreciate it too much. Nasty stuff!
When I was being escorted to the scan room I told Stephen "I'll try to have some fun for you, too!" :-) I informed him that with this one, I was going to take a big bite out of the elephant's leg! :-)
The CAT Scan process itself was a bit unnerving, but they had some illustrations painted on a couple of the ceiling tiles above. One depicted some ducks swimming, and the other showed a water and landscape scene. I thought about how God is keeping the whole world in order (nature, etc.) and that if He can do that, He can take care of me! I was feeling unsettled as the bed moved in through the equipment the first time and whispered "Jesus?!" I sensed that He was right with me, the entire time.
I'd say the scan was worth THREE bites of elephant. What do you think? :-)
Thursday, March 25, 2010
A Doctor's Phone Call
God knew what I needed this evening. My OB/GYN called to check in. (She's the one who ordered the mammogram that made us aware of the cancer.) Her call was encouraging. She said that the date (April 5) of the bone scan is "soon". She doesn't think that's a long wait, and she said that I can be doing things during the time I'm waiting for the scan. (And, I have a lot on my "to do" list to tackle!) :-) She explained to me that cancer takes 10 years to grow one centimeter, so mine isn't going to grow or spread in just a matter of weeks or a month while I'm waiting for tests and surgery. She said that this cancer I have has been there for many years, and had we not done the mammogram, we'd not even know about it right now. I understand all of this, but will still be so glad to get the tests and surgery behind me.
I know that as time goes on I'll become more and more appreciative of that mammogram that day, but for now, I'm still feelnig a bit ambivilant about it--- as crazy as that sounds! That test is what has changed my life into a rollercoaster ride of emotions. But, that test is also what's alerted the doctors to begin life saving tests and procedures.
A friend reminded me of something very important today. She shared about allowing fear to give away time to Satan. I agree with her, Satan doesn't deserve our time! GOD IS IN CONTROL.
I know that as time goes on I'll become more and more appreciative of that mammogram that day, but for now, I'm still feelnig a bit ambivilant about it--- as crazy as that sounds! That test is what has changed my life into a rollercoaster ride of emotions. But, that test is also what's alerted the doctors to begin life saving tests and procedures.
A friend reminded me of something very important today. She shared about allowing fear to give away time to Satan. I agree with her, Satan doesn't deserve our time! GOD IS IN CONTROL.
Scans and Sensitivity
I'm feeling emotional today. It may be partially due to having the past two nights of sleep disrupted by the needs of two of the children, as well as a lot to do with this unexpected medical diagnosis. When walking the boys to school today, I felt like I couldn't breath. I was choking on emotion.
The surgeon's office called this morning to inform me that scans have been scheduled. The first one will take place tom. afternoon at 1:30. It's a CT SCAN of the chest, abdomen and pelvis. There's also an order for blood work.
The bone scan has been scheduled for April 5th, my 41st birthday. They can't do it sooner, because the hospital has a shortage of the dye that is necessary for the injection related to this scan. I won't lie. I'm very disappointed that it's going to be a couple of weeks before this can be done, because for some reason I've been expecting that this cancer will be removed from my body and treated right away. I'm starting to think that this is going to be a very SLOW process. It's also an EMOTIONAL process, no matter how strong my faith is. I write to work through my emotions.
Friends have offered some interesting perspectives today:
-we're blessed to have medical care in this country
-it's good that I'm able to get this taken care of before the new health care system is in place
-that they've had relatives treated for breast cancer who have survived and are doing fine
-that it's good to at least have the scans scheduled
It's nice to hear the perspectives of others, and I do appreciate them. When one is experiencing a trial that is emotionally upsetting, she doesn't always see things from different angles that can be helpful. I value what my friends are sharing. The challenge for me in all of this is to not be offended or hurt by well meaning comments that can easily be misunderstood due to the gamut of personal emotions involved in working through this.
A few people have thought it'd be somehow helpful for me to know that they know someone who is "full of cancer" or is dying of cancer. That's definitely not the kind of thing I can easily cope with, emotionally, right now. But, in fairness, I know it's terribly awkward to know WHAT to say to someone who is experiencing crisis. I've been there myself, many times.
What's most important is that others do care and they are praying, and I'm so thankful for each one!
And, I do know that my situation could be much worse, and that others are also suffering from breast cancer or worse. I don't want to be the single focus of everyone's life, or something crazy like that. I'm reaching out, because I am overwhelmed and cannot go through this without the love, support and prayers of others. I have never walked down this path before. It's new. It's scary.
My elderly mother is having a hard time understanding why the doctor can't fix this problem NOW! I've tried several times to explain it to her, but she's worried and upset, and it's just not making sense to her. She just wants her daughter to be okay. Her own emotional experience with all of this is impacting me, as well. It's hard. She watched her father die of cancer. Now, her daughter ha been diagnosed.
There's just something about the "C" word that IS terribly disturbing. It's natural for the news "You have cancer" to cause a sense of urgency in the patient to want to get the cancer removed from their body YESTERDAY. (Especially when you have young children who need you, and if you've watched your grandfather lose his battle with cancer and you stood in his hospital room and watched him draw his last breath.)
There are times when I feel really strong and I know God is in control of my health needs, and there are times when I feel very weak and I still know God is on control of my health needs. Today is a weak day. It's good to know that God is STILL there, even on days like this.
The surgeon's office called this morning to inform me that scans have been scheduled. The first one will take place tom. afternoon at 1:30. It's a CT SCAN of the chest, abdomen and pelvis. There's also an order for blood work.
The bone scan has been scheduled for April 5th, my 41st birthday. They can't do it sooner, because the hospital has a shortage of the dye that is necessary for the injection related to this scan. I won't lie. I'm very disappointed that it's going to be a couple of weeks before this can be done, because for some reason I've been expecting that this cancer will be removed from my body and treated right away. I'm starting to think that this is going to be a very SLOW process. It's also an EMOTIONAL process, no matter how strong my faith is. I write to work through my emotions.
Friends have offered some interesting perspectives today:
-we're blessed to have medical care in this country
-it's good that I'm able to get this taken care of before the new health care system is in place
-that they've had relatives treated for breast cancer who have survived and are doing fine
-that it's good to at least have the scans scheduled
It's nice to hear the perspectives of others, and I do appreciate them. When one is experiencing a trial that is emotionally upsetting, she doesn't always see things from different angles that can be helpful. I value what my friends are sharing. The challenge for me in all of this is to not be offended or hurt by well meaning comments that can easily be misunderstood due to the gamut of personal emotions involved in working through this.
A few people have thought it'd be somehow helpful for me to know that they know someone who is "full of cancer" or is dying of cancer. That's definitely not the kind of thing I can easily cope with, emotionally, right now. But, in fairness, I know it's terribly awkward to know WHAT to say to someone who is experiencing crisis. I've been there myself, many times.
What's most important is that others do care and they are praying, and I'm so thankful for each one!
And, I do know that my situation could be much worse, and that others are also suffering from breast cancer or worse. I don't want to be the single focus of everyone's life, or something crazy like that. I'm reaching out, because I am overwhelmed and cannot go through this without the love, support and prayers of others. I have never walked down this path before. It's new. It's scary.
My elderly mother is having a hard time understanding why the doctor can't fix this problem NOW! I've tried several times to explain it to her, but she's worried and upset, and it's just not making sense to her. She just wants her daughter to be okay. Her own emotional experience with all of this is impacting me, as well. It's hard. She watched her father die of cancer. Now, her daughter ha been diagnosed.
There's just something about the "C" word that IS terribly disturbing. It's natural for the news "You have cancer" to cause a sense of urgency in the patient to want to get the cancer removed from their body YESTERDAY. (Especially when you have young children who need you, and if you've watched your grandfather lose his battle with cancer and you stood in his hospital room and watched him draw his last breath.)
There are times when I feel really strong and I know God is in control of my health needs, and there are times when I feel very weak and I still know God is on control of my health needs. Today is a weak day. It's good to know that God is STILL there, even on days like this.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Discouragement
I'm struggling with a bout of discouragement this evening. Several times today, as I went about my normal routine, I thought "Today feels NORMAL!" I felt relief when things seemed right and usual. But, just as soon as I felt a sense of normalcy, reality slapped me in the face again-- each time. I have cancer. A long road of fighting this life threatening disease waits ahead.
I don't want to lose my hair. I don't want to feel weak. I don't want my lifestyle and routine to be interrupted. I don't want my family to be waiting for me to get better so they can feel normal again, too. This cancer business really stinks! I need encouragement.
It was even more disheartening when I looked at the clock at 5:00 PM and realized that the doctor's office didn't call to schedule the scans before the staff went home for the day. Does this mean that the insurance company has yet to approve them? Should I even hope that there will be news tomorrow? Does anyone at the insurance company care that people are waiting on them for life saving procedures to be okayed?
Stephen and I did errands today while the kids were in school and the baby napped at home under Kaylee's watch. It seemed like everything was okay... as if we were back where we were at two weeks ago, before we found out something's wrong with my body. I wish I could just wake up and this would all be a dream---this cancer.
Kaylee and I cooked a good meal together tonight: chicken pot pie, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans. I was happy for my family to have a nice hot meal. Yet, when we were sitting at the table eating together, my mind kept wandering off to what's coming-- scans, surgery, recovery, radiation, drug therapy (chemo?)... and delays along the way for scheduling, insurance approvals, etc. Can't we just get this overwith? I want to get past it and move on with life.
And, any time I think of the possibility of losing my hair I feel horrible! :-( It will take a long time to grow it back to the length I like. I don't want to have short hair for months once it starts growing back.
I guess all of this sounds silly when you consider that losing hair in exchange for saving your life is what's necessary. Yet, I'm not too thrilled about my grandbaby's first year pictures with grandma showing a sickly, thin woman without hair. That person isn't ME. :-( Not yet, anyway.
I don't doubt that God's with me and He's still holding my hand, even in this valley I am in tonight. I expect that the emotional aspect of dealing with cancer is going to be like this--- ups and downs, and even several times within a day.
I don't want to lose my hair. I don't want to feel weak. I don't want my lifestyle and routine to be interrupted. I don't want my family to be waiting for me to get better so they can feel normal again, too. This cancer business really stinks! I need encouragement.
It was even more disheartening when I looked at the clock at 5:00 PM and realized that the doctor's office didn't call to schedule the scans before the staff went home for the day. Does this mean that the insurance company has yet to approve them? Should I even hope that there will be news tomorrow? Does anyone at the insurance company care that people are waiting on them for life saving procedures to be okayed?
Stephen and I did errands today while the kids were in school and the baby napped at home under Kaylee's watch. It seemed like everything was okay... as if we were back where we were at two weeks ago, before we found out something's wrong with my body. I wish I could just wake up and this would all be a dream---this cancer.
Kaylee and I cooked a good meal together tonight: chicken pot pie, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans. I was happy for my family to have a nice hot meal. Yet, when we were sitting at the table eating together, my mind kept wandering off to what's coming-- scans, surgery, recovery, radiation, drug therapy (chemo?)... and delays along the way for scheduling, insurance approvals, etc. Can't we just get this overwith? I want to get past it and move on with life.
And, any time I think of the possibility of losing my hair I feel horrible! :-( It will take a long time to grow it back to the length I like. I don't want to have short hair for months once it starts growing back.
I guess all of this sounds silly when you consider that losing hair in exchange for saving your life is what's necessary. Yet, I'm not too thrilled about my grandbaby's first year pictures with grandma showing a sickly, thin woman without hair. That person isn't ME. :-( Not yet, anyway.
I don't doubt that God's with me and He's still holding my hand, even in this valley I am in tonight. I expect that the emotional aspect of dealing with cancer is going to be like this--- ups and downs, and even several times within a day.
March
When I woke up this morning I didn't have to remember that I have cancer. Today, I KNEW that I do. I dreamed about it last night.
My nights are becoming more restless since receiving the diagnosis. If a noise wakes me at some point, my thoughts go to cancer and I have trouble falling back to sleep.
It's early yet, and my little ones are still sleeping, so it's a quiet time to ponder what's on my mind. I've been thinking about the month of March and how over the years, it's held some significant occurances in my life. There have been good and bad things that have happened in March. My firstborn son was born in the third month of the year. That was a good thing. I lost my 10 year old dog, Abby, a Weimeranner in March two years ago. That was a sad time. But, three days later, I found out that I was expecting my fifth child, Kathryn. When the twins were 22 months old, we traveled with them and my oldest son to Disney World and had a great time. It was Stephen's and my first family trip together. That's a great March memory! And, then this year, I learned that I have cancer in March. So, right now, I'm having ambivilant feelings about the month of March.
I'm writing with pink fonts today, because pink has become a symbolic color for our family. We call it Kathryn's color, because when I found out that I was expecting a girl I went "pink crazy". Most all of our baby equipment is pink. She has lots of pink clothes, pink bedding and pink shoes. Even some of her toys are pink. :-)
Kathryn is a happy "surprise ending" in our family. She's the last born, and she's the girl that I secretly wished I had. I wanted to have two daughters. I guess God knew that I desired to have another girl and He showered that little blessing upon us. Last night, I realized just how much of a miracle she is for Stephen and I. When reading about some of the cancer treatments I may face down the road, I learned that some can lead to infertiility. How awesome it is that God has given us our complete family BEFORE we have to deal with the cancer.
Late last night Stephen and I had a chance to sit down and read through some of a wonderful informative book about breast cancer. I think it's important for us to learn about this together and both be "on the same page" (pun intended) regarding what I'm going to face in the coming months. I believe this is an "us" experience, because there's no possibility that it will affect one and not the other.
The book was bundled into a nice little packet that was beautifully gift wrapped and inserted into a bright pink bag by a non-profit organization called Caring Connections. The book segment of the program is called Bridging Books. The surgeon handed us this gift as we left the meeting on Monday. It contains a wealth of information, as well as how to get in touch with some people at Caring Connections. They offer support groups. I've contacted them, because I feel the need to communicate with other women who's lives have been invaded by breast cancer.
It's astonishing how many women ARE impacted by breast cancer. In just the past few days I've learned that several ladies I have known for some time are breast cancer survivors. And, most people personally knowo someone who has survived it.
Yesterday, I spent some time chatting with a lady that I see most every day in the community. She is a survivor and she's doing well two years after her diagnosis. I think she's a remarkable lady who is very creative and fun. She has so much "life" even after cancer. She was a great encouragement to me. She informed me that chemotherapy isn't always as bad as we picture it in our minds to be. She told me that I will still be able to do some normal activities, but I will need a nap each afternoon, and that we are going to need a lot of help. It was great to know that I won't be flat on my back for months during treatment. :-) But, when she told me we'll need a lot of help, I felt a sense of panic.
Stephen and I have ALWAYS managed on our own and have been reluctant to ask for help. Taking care of twin babies was the hardest thing either of us has ever done, but we didn't want to bother anyone and just pushed through the sleepless nights and exhausting days. Then, Kathryn came along, and we've been very tired people for a number of years. But, we don't ask for help. It's not something I'm comfortable with doing. I know everyone else is busy with their life, too.
When Kaylee is home she brings us a lot of relief by entertaining the boys or helping with taking them to or from preschool on some occasions. Sometimes, she'll listen for Kathryn while she's napping and we rush out to run some errands. But, other than having Kaylee's occasional help, we've "done it all".
So, yes, I'm worried about asking for help when it comes to this cancer thing. I don't want to interrupt someone else's life and schedule. Yet, I KNOW we're going to need people. Maybe this is one of the things that God is going to teach me through all of this... that we are to be there for one another in a time of need, and those who need help need to be humble about accepting it. :-/ (I have a hunch that I'm onto something here!)
We're usually quite private people, so sharing my inner-most thoughts with others in the form a blog makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. Yet, writing seems to be a part of me somehow, and I have felt compelled to write about this experience from the get-go. It's something I HAVE to do, and I can't explain it better than that.
My little people are starting to stir, so quiet time is over until late this evening.
My nights are becoming more restless since receiving the diagnosis. If a noise wakes me at some point, my thoughts go to cancer and I have trouble falling back to sleep.
It's early yet, and my little ones are still sleeping, so it's a quiet time to ponder what's on my mind. I've been thinking about the month of March and how over the years, it's held some significant occurances in my life. There have been good and bad things that have happened in March. My firstborn son was born in the third month of the year. That was a good thing. I lost my 10 year old dog, Abby, a Weimeranner in March two years ago. That was a sad time. But, three days later, I found out that I was expecting my fifth child, Kathryn. When the twins were 22 months old, we traveled with them and my oldest son to Disney World and had a great time. It was Stephen's and my first family trip together. That's a great March memory! And, then this year, I learned that I have cancer in March. So, right now, I'm having ambivilant feelings about the month of March.
I'm writing with pink fonts today, because pink has become a symbolic color for our family. We call it Kathryn's color, because when I found out that I was expecting a girl I went "pink crazy". Most all of our baby equipment is pink. She has lots of pink clothes, pink bedding and pink shoes. Even some of her toys are pink. :-)
Kathryn is a happy "surprise ending" in our family. She's the last born, and she's the girl that I secretly wished I had. I wanted to have two daughters. I guess God knew that I desired to have another girl and He showered that little blessing upon us. Last night, I realized just how much of a miracle she is for Stephen and I. When reading about some of the cancer treatments I may face down the road, I learned that some can lead to infertiility. How awesome it is that God has given us our complete family BEFORE we have to deal with the cancer.
Late last night Stephen and I had a chance to sit down and read through some of a wonderful informative book about breast cancer. I think it's important for us to learn about this together and both be "on the same page" (pun intended) regarding what I'm going to face in the coming months. I believe this is an "us" experience, because there's no possibility that it will affect one and not the other.
The book was bundled into a nice little packet that was beautifully gift wrapped and inserted into a bright pink bag by a non-profit organization called Caring Connections. The book segment of the program is called Bridging Books. The surgeon handed us this gift as we left the meeting on Monday. It contains a wealth of information, as well as how to get in touch with some people at Caring Connections. They offer support groups. I've contacted them, because I feel the need to communicate with other women who's lives have been invaded by breast cancer.
It's astonishing how many women ARE impacted by breast cancer. In just the past few days I've learned that several ladies I have known for some time are breast cancer survivors. And, most people personally knowo someone who has survived it.
Yesterday, I spent some time chatting with a lady that I see most every day in the community. She is a survivor and she's doing well two years after her diagnosis. I think she's a remarkable lady who is very creative and fun. She has so much "life" even after cancer. She was a great encouragement to me. She informed me that chemotherapy isn't always as bad as we picture it in our minds to be. She told me that I will still be able to do some normal activities, but I will need a nap each afternoon, and that we are going to need a lot of help. It was great to know that I won't be flat on my back for months during treatment. :-) But, when she told me we'll need a lot of help, I felt a sense of panic.
Stephen and I have ALWAYS managed on our own and have been reluctant to ask for help. Taking care of twin babies was the hardest thing either of us has ever done, but we didn't want to bother anyone and just pushed through the sleepless nights and exhausting days. Then, Kathryn came along, and we've been very tired people for a number of years. But, we don't ask for help. It's not something I'm comfortable with doing. I know everyone else is busy with their life, too.
When Kaylee is home she brings us a lot of relief by entertaining the boys or helping with taking them to or from preschool on some occasions. Sometimes, she'll listen for Kathryn while she's napping and we rush out to run some errands. But, other than having Kaylee's occasional help, we've "done it all".
So, yes, I'm worried about asking for help when it comes to this cancer thing. I don't want to interrupt someone else's life and schedule. Yet, I KNOW we're going to need people. Maybe this is one of the things that God is going to teach me through all of this... that we are to be there for one another in a time of need, and those who need help need to be humble about accepting it. :-/ (I have a hunch that I'm onto something here!)
We're usually quite private people, so sharing my inner-most thoughts with others in the form a blog makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. Yet, writing seems to be a part of me somehow, and I have felt compelled to write about this experience from the get-go. It's something I HAVE to do, and I can't explain it better than that.
My little people are starting to stir, so quiet time is over until late this evening.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Meeting With the Surgeon
I wanted to write in yellow today, but it's too light to be easily read. Yellow and blue are my favorite colors, because yellow reminds me of sunny days and blue of beautiful skies on those sunny days.
This morning I took down the wonderful tropical beach themed decorations that Kaylee had put up for my surprise early birthday party on Saturday. I hated to remove them, because looking at them provided a virtual escape to a sunny paradise. Ahhh. We may be needing to get those back out in the coming weeks and months when I'm going through the cancer treatments and am feeling lousy!
Well, yesterday we met with the general surgeon who will perform the surgery to remove the tumor and a sampling of lymph nodes. I was feeling a bit aprehensive about switching to a male doctor because I'm usually more comfortable with female physicians. This doctor communicates very well that it didn't take long for Stephen and I to feel relaxed with him. Stephen was able to stay right by my side during the exam as well as the meeting to discuss EVERYTHING. It was no surprise to me, or to anyone else, that my blood pressure reading was 150/110 in the exam room. I guess if that didn't give away the fact that I was nervous, all of the red blotches breaking out on my neck would have. When Stephen and I had a few quiet moments alone in the room, I whispered to him "We said 'In sickness and in health', didn't we?" He assured me that we were in this thing together.
We learned that my doctor has had 25 years of experience and has been in this location for a year. He also has five children, so that meant a lot to me right away. Someone else who knows how it is to have a large family and how much a parent loves his/her kids. I showed him a photo of my children and daughter-in-law and told him this is a visual of what I have in my mind. He 'got" it.
I am not including the names or of any of my doctors, or other identifying information, because I feel it's a privacy issue.
The doctor explained things in general terms and of course we understand that things could change to a degree once we have concrete information after the tumor has been assessed. But, as it stands now, this is a likely scenario:
I will have CT scans of my bones, chest, admonimal and pelvic regions. These should show whether or not there are tumors in any other parts of my body. The doctor is suspecting that there are no other lumps.
I am to be deciding if I want to have a mastectomy or a lumpectomy (which would involve six weeks of radiation). I am leaning toward the lumpectomy, and my husband is also feeling that that is the best choice. The doctor will also take a sampling of one to six lymph nodes at the time of the surgery. They will be tested to see if the cancer has spread.
Once the tumor is out, it will be analyzed for different factors. I don't feel like listing those here today. But, the information gathered will allow the oncologist to make an appropriate treatment suggestion/plan.
The surgeon feels that it's likely that the oncologist will suggest chemotherapy as a precaution because I am young. (I am glad to hear someone refer to "40" as young. I've felt rather old lately!) :-)
The surgeon is quite confident that we can CURE this bout of breast cancer. He said we are going to attack it hard, like coming down on it with a sledgehammer. I say "Let's do it!"
He gave us helpful advice about how to speak to my grown kids as well as our little ones about what Mommy will experience. He also advised me how to handle "too much information" coming from well meaning individuals--- to manage that type of potential stress because I'm having enough stress aside from that.
He is willing to talk to my oldest children if they feel the need for that.
So far, the hardest part is that my elderly parents are so worried. I've tried to explain to them in concrete, step-by-step terms about what will happen. I think their worries are getting in the way so that they are not able to take a deep breath and look at things in a logical order. I'm thinking that if I map it out in a simple way that it will help them to have that visual. I don't think the stress that they're feeling is good for their own health. We need to find a way to alleviate the concern somehow.
I don't even think that Stephen and I have had the chance to process the reality that I have CANCER. We have been so busy going through the motions of following the steps (appointments, etc.) that we haven't had the time to just ABSORB it all. I'm not sure how we'll get the chance we need to do that, because we are sooooooooo busy with his working two jobs and the constant demands of meeting the needs of three children under the age of five years old! Writing this blog is really helping me, but he definitely needs a way to channel his thoughts and emotions, as well.
I've contacted a local breast cancer support group via email... I think that the more support systems we put in place the better. NO ONE and NO FAMILY should go through something like cancer without support.
When I woke up this morning I felt a sense of discouragement. I decided it'd be good to talk to God about it. I asked Him to give me strength for today. But, i still do not feel the need to ask him "Why?" this is occuring. Others close to me are asking that question, but i don't think it's going to help me to do that. I believe God has allowed this for a reason. I trust Him. I'm not walking through this independently of Him. He is leading me, He is holding my hand, and God never releases the protective grip He has on His children. Once we are His, we ARE His.
I want to gather up the Scripture verses different ones have shared with me over the past few days and put them together in a post. They'll be good to look back over as the journey with cancer gets tougher. And, it WILL get harder. The doctor said it's going to be very hard. But, tha we will come out on the other side of it.
We hit our first unexpected snag today. I thought that I'd be getting those CT scans ASAP. Well, there's a middle man preventing that. His name is INSURANCE COMPANY. We need approval from them before we can even begin to schedule anything. I expect that this is the first of many delays with the insurance company. My first feeling was UPSET. How can they take their time when my life is on the line? I pictured people sitting at desks pushing papers around with pencils, maybe sipping soda or doing text messages, doing a few approvals ... then leaving the office early to play golf... while patients are waiting for life saving procedures. But, I have to remember: GOD IS IN CONTROL. God can move those papers around quickly if He wants to. :-) I've known Him to move the hearts of men before, and He can move some papers if need be. :-)
So, with all this having been shared today... DEEP BREATHS...and off to tend to my crying, hungry baby who just woke up. She doesn't know cancer. She knows FOOD! :-)
This morning I took down the wonderful tropical beach themed decorations that Kaylee had put up for my surprise early birthday party on Saturday. I hated to remove them, because looking at them provided a virtual escape to a sunny paradise. Ahhh. We may be needing to get those back out in the coming weeks and months when I'm going through the cancer treatments and am feeling lousy!
Well, yesterday we met with the general surgeon who will perform the surgery to remove the tumor and a sampling of lymph nodes. I was feeling a bit aprehensive about switching to a male doctor because I'm usually more comfortable with female physicians. This doctor communicates very well that it didn't take long for Stephen and I to feel relaxed with him. Stephen was able to stay right by my side during the exam as well as the meeting to discuss EVERYTHING. It was no surprise to me, or to anyone else, that my blood pressure reading was 150/110 in the exam room. I guess if that didn't give away the fact that I was nervous, all of the red blotches breaking out on my neck would have. When Stephen and I had a few quiet moments alone in the room, I whispered to him "We said 'In sickness and in health', didn't we?" He assured me that we were in this thing together.
We learned that my doctor has had 25 years of experience and has been in this location for a year. He also has five children, so that meant a lot to me right away. Someone else who knows how it is to have a large family and how much a parent loves his/her kids. I showed him a photo of my children and daughter-in-law and told him this is a visual of what I have in my mind. He 'got" it.
I am not including the names or of any of my doctors, or other identifying information, because I feel it's a privacy issue.
The doctor explained things in general terms and of course we understand that things could change to a degree once we have concrete information after the tumor has been assessed. But, as it stands now, this is a likely scenario:
I will have CT scans of my bones, chest, admonimal and pelvic regions. These should show whether or not there are tumors in any other parts of my body. The doctor is suspecting that there are no other lumps.
I am to be deciding if I want to have a mastectomy or a lumpectomy (which would involve six weeks of radiation). I am leaning toward the lumpectomy, and my husband is also feeling that that is the best choice. The doctor will also take a sampling of one to six lymph nodes at the time of the surgery. They will be tested to see if the cancer has spread.
Once the tumor is out, it will be analyzed for different factors. I don't feel like listing those here today. But, the information gathered will allow the oncologist to make an appropriate treatment suggestion/plan.
The surgeon feels that it's likely that the oncologist will suggest chemotherapy as a precaution because I am young. (I am glad to hear someone refer to "40" as young. I've felt rather old lately!) :-)
The surgeon is quite confident that we can CURE this bout of breast cancer. He said we are going to attack it hard, like coming down on it with a sledgehammer. I say "Let's do it!"
He gave us helpful advice about how to speak to my grown kids as well as our little ones about what Mommy will experience. He also advised me how to handle "too much information" coming from well meaning individuals--- to manage that type of potential stress because I'm having enough stress aside from that.
He is willing to talk to my oldest children if they feel the need for that.
So far, the hardest part is that my elderly parents are so worried. I've tried to explain to them in concrete, step-by-step terms about what will happen. I think their worries are getting in the way so that they are not able to take a deep breath and look at things in a logical order. I'm thinking that if I map it out in a simple way that it will help them to have that visual. I don't think the stress that they're feeling is good for their own health. We need to find a way to alleviate the concern somehow.
I don't even think that Stephen and I have had the chance to process the reality that I have CANCER. We have been so busy going through the motions of following the steps (appointments, etc.) that we haven't had the time to just ABSORB it all. I'm not sure how we'll get the chance we need to do that, because we are sooooooooo busy with his working two jobs and the constant demands of meeting the needs of three children under the age of five years old! Writing this blog is really helping me, but he definitely needs a way to channel his thoughts and emotions, as well.
I've contacted a local breast cancer support group via email... I think that the more support systems we put in place the better. NO ONE and NO FAMILY should go through something like cancer without support.
When I woke up this morning I felt a sense of discouragement. I decided it'd be good to talk to God about it. I asked Him to give me strength for today. But, i still do not feel the need to ask him "Why?" this is occuring. Others close to me are asking that question, but i don't think it's going to help me to do that. I believe God has allowed this for a reason. I trust Him. I'm not walking through this independently of Him. He is leading me, He is holding my hand, and God never releases the protective grip He has on His children. Once we are His, we ARE His.
I want to gather up the Scripture verses different ones have shared with me over the past few days and put them together in a post. They'll be good to look back over as the journey with cancer gets tougher. And, it WILL get harder. The doctor said it's going to be very hard. But, tha we will come out on the other side of it.
We hit our first unexpected snag today. I thought that I'd be getting those CT scans ASAP. Well, there's a middle man preventing that. His name is INSURANCE COMPANY. We need approval from them before we can even begin to schedule anything. I expect that this is the first of many delays with the insurance company. My first feeling was UPSET. How can they take their time when my life is on the line? I pictured people sitting at desks pushing papers around with pencils, maybe sipping soda or doing text messages, doing a few approvals ... then leaving the office early to play golf... while patients are waiting for life saving procedures. But, I have to remember: GOD IS IN CONTROL. God can move those papers around quickly if He wants to. :-) I've known Him to move the hearts of men before, and He can move some papers if need be. :-)
So, with all this having been shared today... DEEP BREATHS...and off to tend to my crying, hungry baby who just woke up. She doesn't know cancer. She knows FOOD! :-)
Monday, March 22, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Cancer is so limited...
"Cancer is so limited...
It cannot cripple love,
It cannot shatter hope,
It cannot corrode faith,
It cannot eat away peace,
It cannot destroy confidence,
It cannot kill friendship,
It cannot shut out memories,
It cannot silence courage,
It cannot invade the soul,
It cannot reduce eternal life,
It cannot quench the Spirit,
It cannot lessen the power of the resurrection."
THE DAILY BREAD, February 7, 1989
I found this just over a year after losing my grandfather to cancer. It meant a lot to me so I saved it. Cancer did not take away WHO my grandfather was as a man or change WHAT he believed. He was a remarkable man and a wonderful example to his children and grandchildren.
It cannot cripple love,
It cannot shatter hope,
It cannot corrode faith,
It cannot eat away peace,
It cannot destroy confidence,
It cannot kill friendship,
It cannot shut out memories,
It cannot silence courage,
It cannot invade the soul,
It cannot reduce eternal life,
It cannot quench the Spirit,
It cannot lessen the power of the resurrection."
THE DAILY BREAD, February 7, 1989
I found this just over a year after losing my grandfather to cancer. It meant a lot to me so I saved it. Cancer did not take away WHO my grandfather was as a man or change WHAT he believed. He was a remarkable man and a wonderful example to his children and grandchildren.
Change of Plans
March 21st, 2010
Well, at about 8 PM this evening my doctor called to inform me that she's needing to cancel our appointment for Tues., as well as all other appt.'s for Mon. and Tues. due to a family emergency requiring out of town travel.
She told me that she thinks I'm a "wonderful person" and wants me to be able to get this cancer taken care of right away. (I appreciated that compliment-- esp. at a time like this when things feel so uncertain). She offered me the option of meeting with her colleague, also a surgeon with about 20 years of experience. He could meet with me tomorrow at 3 PM.
I asked about his communication style with his patients and she assured me he takes all the time that's needed with each patient, and he's good about call-back appointments if a patient is confused about something. I was pleased to know that, because I think it's very important for patients and doctors to understand each other well.
She also told me that if I'm uncomfortable with this other doctor after having met with him, I would have the option of switching back to her care, if I want to wait for her.
I have decided that I will meet with this other doctor, because I do want to have my cancer addressed as soon as possible.
I'm hoping all will go well with childcare arrangements so we can take the time we need with this doctor tomorrow.
I found out this evening that my paternal aunt had breast cancer as an elderly woman, and it spread to her bones. She first had it in her kidneys. So, there is a family history of cancer on both sides of my family. It seems like cancer is running rampant in our society. It's hard to find anyone who doesn't know someone who's had it, if not someone they are related to.
I'm trusting God in this whole thing. Tomorrow will be the start of the rest of this journey ... I hope and pray that the cancer can be cured and I can continue to focus on my family's needs for years to come.
Well, at about 8 PM this evening my doctor called to inform me that she's needing to cancel our appointment for Tues., as well as all other appt.'s for Mon. and Tues. due to a family emergency requiring out of town travel.
She told me that she thinks I'm a "wonderful person" and wants me to be able to get this cancer taken care of right away. (I appreciated that compliment-- esp. at a time like this when things feel so uncertain). She offered me the option of meeting with her colleague, also a surgeon with about 20 years of experience. He could meet with me tomorrow at 3 PM.
I asked about his communication style with his patients and she assured me he takes all the time that's needed with each patient, and he's good about call-back appointments if a patient is confused about something. I was pleased to know that, because I think it's very important for patients and doctors to understand each other well.
She also told me that if I'm uncomfortable with this other doctor after having met with him, I would have the option of switching back to her care, if I want to wait for her.
I have decided that I will meet with this other doctor, because I do want to have my cancer addressed as soon as possible.
I'm hoping all will go well with childcare arrangements so we can take the time we need with this doctor tomorrow.
I found out this evening that my paternal aunt had breast cancer as an elderly woman, and it spread to her bones. She first had it in her kidneys. So, there is a family history of cancer on both sides of my family. It seems like cancer is running rampant in our society. It's hard to find anyone who doesn't know someone who's had it, if not someone they are related to.
I'm trusting God in this whole thing. Tomorrow will be the start of the rest of this journey ... I hope and pray that the cancer can be cured and I can continue to focus on my family's needs for years to come.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Realiztion
March 20th, 2010
When I woke up this morning, it took a few minutes to feel oriented and then I realized--- it's TRUE, I DO have cancer. It's not a bad dream. The thing I love about sleeping is that when I'm asleep I forget about tough stuff for a while.
As I laid there, still feeling tired, I thought about the reality of this challenge I'm facing. There is NOTHING I can do about it. My life and health are 100% in God's hands. And, well, those are pretty safe hands to be resting in. He has walked me through a lot of trials in my life, some that seemed to just come my way, and others that I created for myself with the choices I made. Regardless, He has NEVER left my side, ever. He promises in his Word "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."
I thought about the love, support and prayers of my friends and family, and how much they mean to me. An analogy came to mind. Those special people are like cheerleaders in my life. They're standing behind me, rooting for me, and cheering me on in this fight against cancer. They are on the sidelines offering encouragement...and they're THERE for me. Yet, at a certain point... I have to walk across a "line" where it's just me and God going the distance--- my hand is in His, and while my friends and family are standing behind me, my ultimate journey through this is with Him. He gave me life, He sustains my life, and in His timing, He'll take me home to Heaven.
But, my hope and prayer is to have more time with my children. I believe that God gave them to me as a gift and that He's given me the responsibilty of caring for them while they are young. I am praying to have the privilege of being there for them for a while longer. I don't want to miss out on the milestones in their lives... the birth of Tyler's baby, Kaylee's wedding and the birth of her first baby, the twins' first day of kindergarten, and Kathryn's first sentences and all that will occur in their lives in the next several years. My children!!!
When I woke up this morning, it took a few minutes to feel oriented and then I realized--- it's TRUE, I DO have cancer. It's not a bad dream. The thing I love about sleeping is that when I'm asleep I forget about tough stuff for a while.
As I laid there, still feeling tired, I thought about the reality of this challenge I'm facing. There is NOTHING I can do about it. My life and health are 100% in God's hands. And, well, those are pretty safe hands to be resting in. He has walked me through a lot of trials in my life, some that seemed to just come my way, and others that I created for myself with the choices I made. Regardless, He has NEVER left my side, ever. He promises in his Word "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."
I thought about the love, support and prayers of my friends and family, and how much they mean to me. An analogy came to mind. Those special people are like cheerleaders in my life. They're standing behind me, rooting for me, and cheering me on in this fight against cancer. They are on the sidelines offering encouragement...and they're THERE for me. Yet, at a certain point... I have to walk across a "line" where it's just me and God going the distance--- my hand is in His, and while my friends and family are standing behind me, my ultimate journey through this is with Him. He gave me life, He sustains my life, and in His timing, He'll take me home to Heaven.
But, my hope and prayer is to have more time with my children. I believe that God gave them to me as a gift and that He's given me the responsibilty of caring for them while they are young. I am praying to have the privilege of being there for them for a while longer. I don't want to miss out on the milestones in their lives... the birth of Tyler's baby, Kaylee's wedding and the birth of her first baby, the twins' first day of kindergarten, and Kathryn's first sentences and all that will occur in their lives in the next several years. My children!!!
Friday, March 19, 2010
Diagnosis Day
March 19th, 2010-- Diagnosis Day
Yesterday, I was able to stay busy to pass the time. Each of my "big kids" were here at some point, along with my daughter-in-law and my husband. The three little ones kept me on my toes. My husband's sister in London and her adult daughter called and offered much encouragement. My sister text messaged off and on all day to keep in close contact.
Friends and family have been a great support system. Facing cancer is not something one wants to do alone! It's too BIG for one to shoulder.
So, yesterday was "do-able". Today was tough. The doctor had said she would call sometime by afternoon. I tried to stay busy, but when stressed, my tendency is to want to go to sleep. I struggled through the day doing what I needed to, but feeling extremely tired. My stomach was in knots and I felt nausea all day. It was difficult to eat.
By 2:00 PM, Stephen and I wanted to get the kids out of the house and do some errands, yet, I didn't want to receive the doctor's call in the middle of a public place like a grocery store! What to do? I decided to call and ask if my results were available. A message was left for the doctor.
Well, wouldn't you know -- she DID call when was in the middle of the grocery store! :-) Ha! Stephen and I had decided to let the three little ones walk in the store, because we weren't buying much and wouldn't be long. Oh boy! The doctor called while the kids were pushing their child sized carts around heading toward the lobster tank. Thankfully, a nice lady who works at the store and enjoys speaking with our boys was entertaining them. Stephen kept one ear on my phone conversation and one on the kids. THAT was a juggling act! Ha!
The doctor informed me that I DO have a type of cancer in my breast. She spoke confidently about being able to remove the lump and that boosted my morale. I asked if she thinks it's elsewhere in my body and she said she believes it is just in that one location. She asked if Stephen and I can come to an 8 AM appointment next Tuesday, and we'd discuss everything then. I asked which type of cancer I have and she replied "the usual kind" and said we'll talk about it on Tuesday. :-) I asked if she should double check my nodes, but she said the ultrasound showed that they're fine. She said she'd check everything, though. Anxious to get this cancer removal process going, I asked "Is there anything I can be doing now, like blood work?" She said she thinks my blood is fine, but that we'll do that on Tuesday. Ha! She said she'll be able to remove the lump and I won't need a masectomy. I told her she can take anything she wants as long as she gets the cancer out of me, so I can be well and take care of my family. She said that she'll do that.
You can see there are a lot of positives that jumped out of that short conversation today. I feel like there is HOPE.
I'm willing to try hard to fight this, for my children, my grandbaby, my parents, my family...
I'm grateful to my family and friends for their strong support, and especially for their prayers. I know that God is listening, and that He cares. He is with me.
Yesterday, I was able to stay busy to pass the time. Each of my "big kids" were here at some point, along with my daughter-in-law and my husband. The three little ones kept me on my toes. My husband's sister in London and her adult daughter called and offered much encouragement. My sister text messaged off and on all day to keep in close contact.
Friends and family have been a great support system. Facing cancer is not something one wants to do alone! It's too BIG for one to shoulder.
So, yesterday was "do-able". Today was tough. The doctor had said she would call sometime by afternoon. I tried to stay busy, but when stressed, my tendency is to want to go to sleep. I struggled through the day doing what I needed to, but feeling extremely tired. My stomach was in knots and I felt nausea all day. It was difficult to eat.
By 2:00 PM, Stephen and I wanted to get the kids out of the house and do some errands, yet, I didn't want to receive the doctor's call in the middle of a public place like a grocery store! What to do? I decided to call and ask if my results were available. A message was left for the doctor.
Well, wouldn't you know -- she DID call when was in the middle of the grocery store! :-) Ha! Stephen and I had decided to let the three little ones walk in the store, because we weren't buying much and wouldn't be long. Oh boy! The doctor called while the kids were pushing their child sized carts around heading toward the lobster tank. Thankfully, a nice lady who works at the store and enjoys speaking with our boys was entertaining them. Stephen kept one ear on my phone conversation and one on the kids. THAT was a juggling act! Ha!
The doctor informed me that I DO have a type of cancer in my breast. She spoke confidently about being able to remove the lump and that boosted my morale. I asked if she thinks it's elsewhere in my body and she said she believes it is just in that one location. She asked if Stephen and I can come to an 8 AM appointment next Tuesday, and we'd discuss everything then. I asked which type of cancer I have and she replied "the usual kind" and said we'll talk about it on Tuesday. :-) I asked if she should double check my nodes, but she said the ultrasound showed that they're fine. She said she'd check everything, though. Anxious to get this cancer removal process going, I asked "Is there anything I can be doing now, like blood work?" She said she thinks my blood is fine, but that we'll do that on Tuesday. Ha! She said she'll be able to remove the lump and I won't need a masectomy. I told her she can take anything she wants as long as she gets the cancer out of me, so I can be well and take care of my family. She said that she'll do that.
You can see there are a lot of positives that jumped out of that short conversation today. I feel like there is HOPE.
I'm willing to try hard to fight this, for my children, my grandbaby, my parents, my family...
I'm grateful to my family and friends for their strong support, and especially for their prayers. I know that God is listening, and that He cares. He is with me.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Cancer?
It all started with a routine mammogram on Wed., March 10th, 2010. I arrived on time and everything went like "clock work". I was impressed by how quickly patients could get in and get out.
Not knowing what to expect, I followed the instructions of the technician and before I knew it, we were done. It wasn't painful or uncomfortable, and the only thing that bothered me is that I felt OLD. Having a first mammogram means you've reached the age of ... gasp... 40!
Before the process began, the technician informed me that it's not uncommon to be called back for additional images following the first mammogram, because they like to have a good baseline of information for future annual mammograms.
With that in mind, if the nurse's voice hadn't been so consoling and she hadn't asked "How are you feeling" when she called on Friday (March 12th, 2010) to tell me that the breast center would be calling to schedule more images, I'd not had even a hint that there may be a problem. She said that if the breast center hasn't called me by mid0day on Monday, I should call the doctor's office so they can get on it for me.
I couldn't help but worry some over the weekend. It was a relief to receive a call from the doctor's at about 9:30 on Monday morning (March 15th, 2010). The additional images would be taken at 3:15 the following day, Tuesday, March 16th, 2010.
Still thinking that maybe they only need the pics to create a better baseline for future mammograms, the thing that I worried about the most was finding a good parking spot at EMMC. :-) However, while walking through the hallway in the hospital and taking note of the pretty, small garden encased in glass along the way, I had a strange feeling that my being there that day was going to mean change. Something was going to be different.
What a surprise it was when the technician who called me into the dressing room was the same one who'd taken the first pictures at the other facility the week before. Later, she informed me that once she realized I'd need more images, she requested to do them. I was relieved somehow, because I didn't want to expose my body to yet another stranger! :-)
I expressed some concern to the technician before she began, stating that I have three children under the age of five to care for, and a grandbaby coming in June, and that I was scared. She sat down with me and informed me that there IS something that needs to be addressed. She was kind of sober about it, and that was more than a subtle hint that something was indeed wrong. I began to feel nervous and emotional.
The tech. told me that the radiologist would read those images right away and possibly order an ultrasound. She led me to a dressing room where I promptly called my husband and asked him to come to the hospital to be with me. Thankfully, my oldest daughter Kaylee was home and able to watch the children. Her supervisor (her dad) was gracious and gave her the night off from work.
As the ultrasound was conducted, I was becoming more and more emotional and worrying about my children. If something happened to me, would they even remember me? Would my baby have any recollection of her mother? Would my babies be calling someone else "Mom"? It was very painful to think about these things, and it still is.
Overcome with emotion, I expressed some concern to the lady doing the ultrasound. She couldn't say anything, of course, so she proceeded with her work and tried to change the subject. It was especially concerning when she was spending some significant time scanning my armpit. I thought "Oh, it is in my lymph nodes, it's not good at all." Everyone was quiet, and it felt eerie!
Once the ultrasound had been completed, my husband arrived and was led to the room by the mammogram tech. I was so glad to see him!
Expecting the radiologist to come and speak with me, I was surprised when the ultrasound tech. returned and pointed to a wall phone, informing me that my OB/GYN would be calling me momentarily. I thought "This cannot be good. If my doctor is calling, it's very bad news."
I began crying and clutching my husband, spilling out about 1,000 thoughts and concerns while jumping up and down in frustration. Fear was taking over.
Shortly, the phone rang and it was my docctor. She started the conversation by telling me that she has been through this herself, and that 90% of breast lumps are benign. She told me that I'd be having a biopsy the next day at the hosptial and that I'd be in good hands with the doctor there. She encouraged me to think positive thoughts and to focus on the 90% statistic.
Her call offered me some hope. And, it was good news that a slot for a biopsy the next day had opened up, because normally it takes weeks to get in for that procedure. I started to have a sense that "God is with me in this."
Stephen and I went together for the biopsy. Again, Kaylee was kind to babysit. We sat in the waiting area and I put my brain to work reading "PEOPLE" magazine. :-) It was a good distraction.
Someone I knew came in and sat in the waiting area. I couldn't speak other than to greet her and smile. My heart was too heavy and I didn't want to spill out all that was on my mind, because perhaps she was also there for unpleasant reasons.
After a while the same nurse that had been on duty the day before led me to an exam room. She explained some possibilities for what would happen during the visit. Not long after, the "breast doctor" arrived in the room. She took a medical history, did a manual exam, and led my husband and I to her office to review the images taken the day before as well as the ones from the previous week. She pointed out that the lump is different from the normal breast tissue. She said that it is "concerning for cancer". I had a gazillion questions floating in my head, but that "C" word has a way of numbing a person's ability to process thoughts in a logical order. You get kind of hung up on that word: CANCER.
The doctor escorted us to the ultrasound room where she prepared my skin for the biopsy. The nurse and ultrasound tech. were there. Each person was offering good care and comfort in her own way, but nothing seemed to ease the emotional turmoil I was feeling. Occasionally, a tissue was passed my way, or the nurse would wipe my tears, but no one was giving me words of HOPE. They were simply CONSOLING. It didn't console me. I could only think of my three babies, my husband (whose family is far away in Africa), my oldest two children, my grandbaby who is due to arrive in June, and my aging parents facing their own health challenges. ALL of these people NEED me. I cannot be sick. I cannot take time off from my responsibilities. There isn't any time. They NEED me 24/7. I'm on call all of the time.
As the procedure took place, the medical staff kept apologizing for any pain or discomfort. didn't they know that I didn't care about that? I ONLY cared about my family. I can't leave them. They NEED me. Who cares about the pain and inconvenience of having a biopsy. They could do whatever they wanted to do to my body, just as long as they'd get me back on my feet and home to my family.
My husband was by my side, holding my hand, and offering encouragement. He sweetly whispered "I love you." I'm so grateful for his presence, for his support, for his love.
The nurse led me back to the exam room, the mammogram tech. draped a warm towel over my shoulders for comfort, and Stephen and I waited for further instruction. Eventually, the nurse patched up my wound and gave me discharge info. and told me to get dressed. The doctor invited us to her office.
The doctor told me she'd call with the biopsy results by Friday afternoon. That will be March 19th, 2010. I don't want to be alone when that call comes. I asked her "Is there a chance it's not cancer?" She said that she believes that it IS cancer. The next step will be to check my body to see if it has spread. My bones. My blood. My lungs.
Well, when hearing bad news about other people, I always say "We never know what a day will bring." Well, this time, it's my turn, and I am really and truly shocked that I'm facing the strong possibility of having CANCER. Just a week ago, I was doing my normal routine of caring for my busy children, helping my older ones, and taking care of the home and my husband. We were also doing construction in the house. Never a moment of rest, always busy. Now, i feel as I'm watching other people all around me continue with their busy lives and routines while my life has come to a stop, a pause, while I wait to find out if it's going to continue. It's not a fun "place" to be. I'm worried. I know where I'm going when I die, because I believe in Jesus. But, I'm not ready to leave my family. THAT is the pain for me. Not the cancer.
When we came home from the hospital, my kids were all at home, all five of them, and my daughter-in-law. What could be better than that when you've just received scary news? FAMILY was THERE. We ate boiled dinner because it was St. Patrick's Day. :-) We watched a movie my son and his wife had brought to share with us. I tried to enjoy it, and I did for the most part, but my mind kept wandering back to "What if?"
My husband wanted to show me what the carpenter had accomplished in the bathroom that day. I went upstairs to see this and looked at my little 16 months old girl playing in the empty tub while her dad showed me the progress in the room. I broke down and cried, because I love that kid so much! I CANNOT LEAVE that baby!
Our bathroom remodeling projects have been exciting for us, but it's interesting how just a day of bad news can change one's perspective. I don't care about bathrooms now. I just want to take care of my family and be there for them. That's all.
I went to sleep okay last night, but was awakened by the sound of the dehumidifier at 12:30 a.m. I went downstairs to use the bathroom and greeted my daugther who had not been home from work for very long. I showed her my bruise from the biopsy and we shared a giggle about how the doctor had initialed my breast before she performed the procedure. I told Kaylee "I didn't care if the doctor had drawn a picture on me--- I just didn't care." (I want to be well!)
It took a while to fall back to sleep after waking in the night. I laid there and listened to my husband's breathing and thought about how I want to LIVE and hear that sound for a long time yet.
The prayer support of others and the friendship of those who care is greatly appreciated. This trial is not a secret. I don't care who knows. How can anyone go through something like this alone? One can't.
Naturally, because we're human, we may ask ourselves "Have I done something so bad in my life that God is punishing me?" I'll admit it, that was a question I asked my husband, in tears, as I lay in the ultrasound room. But, I know the answer. God isn't punishing me. If nothing else, He is showing me that HE is in control, HE is "there", He is not leaving my side in this. HE is my hope, my strength. He holds the future. He new the days of my life before I was even formed in my mother's womb. (Psalm 139:13-16; my favorite versese). But, I'm still scared!! (I'm human!)
You know, my daughter felt God was leading her to take this semester off from Bible college and my husband and I thought she should just go back and finish up--- graduate in May with her class. Logically, it seemed to be the thing to do. Although I thought she should return to school, I respected her decision, because I'm not God. She has to listen to HIM first. And, in a small way, I thought ... maybe this is going to be a time of need in our family. Maybe that's why God's impressing upon Kaylee's heart to stay home right now. But, I wasn't thinking about myself... I was thinking about my elderly father's health, Kaylee's paternal grandpa's health concerns, and the upcoming arrival of my grandbaby. Maybe an extra pair of hands would be needed.
It's interesting that both of my grown children have come home at this time. God! He's got all bases covered. :-)
If you're reading my blog, please pray for me and my family. Tomorrow will be a big day. The results are coming.
Not knowing what to expect, I followed the instructions of the technician and before I knew it, we were done. It wasn't painful or uncomfortable, and the only thing that bothered me is that I felt OLD. Having a first mammogram means you've reached the age of ... gasp... 40!
Before the process began, the technician informed me that it's not uncommon to be called back for additional images following the first mammogram, because they like to have a good baseline of information for future annual mammograms.
With that in mind, if the nurse's voice hadn't been so consoling and she hadn't asked "How are you feeling" when she called on Friday (March 12th, 2010) to tell me that the breast center would be calling to schedule more images, I'd not had even a hint that there may be a problem. She said that if the breast center hasn't called me by mid0day on Monday, I should call the doctor's office so they can get on it for me.
I couldn't help but worry some over the weekend. It was a relief to receive a call from the doctor's at about 9:30 on Monday morning (March 15th, 2010). The additional images would be taken at 3:15 the following day, Tuesday, March 16th, 2010.
Still thinking that maybe they only need the pics to create a better baseline for future mammograms, the thing that I worried about the most was finding a good parking spot at EMMC. :-) However, while walking through the hallway in the hospital and taking note of the pretty, small garden encased in glass along the way, I had a strange feeling that my being there that day was going to mean change. Something was going to be different.
What a surprise it was when the technician who called me into the dressing room was the same one who'd taken the first pictures at the other facility the week before. Later, she informed me that once she realized I'd need more images, she requested to do them. I was relieved somehow, because I didn't want to expose my body to yet another stranger! :-)
I expressed some concern to the technician before she began, stating that I have three children under the age of five to care for, and a grandbaby coming in June, and that I was scared. She sat down with me and informed me that there IS something that needs to be addressed. She was kind of sober about it, and that was more than a subtle hint that something was indeed wrong. I began to feel nervous and emotional.
The tech. told me that the radiologist would read those images right away and possibly order an ultrasound. She led me to a dressing room where I promptly called my husband and asked him to come to the hospital to be with me. Thankfully, my oldest daughter Kaylee was home and able to watch the children. Her supervisor (her dad) was gracious and gave her the night off from work.
As the ultrasound was conducted, I was becoming more and more emotional and worrying about my children. If something happened to me, would they even remember me? Would my baby have any recollection of her mother? Would my babies be calling someone else "Mom"? It was very painful to think about these things, and it still is.
Overcome with emotion, I expressed some concern to the lady doing the ultrasound. She couldn't say anything, of course, so she proceeded with her work and tried to change the subject. It was especially concerning when she was spending some significant time scanning my armpit. I thought "Oh, it is in my lymph nodes, it's not good at all." Everyone was quiet, and it felt eerie!
Once the ultrasound had been completed, my husband arrived and was led to the room by the mammogram tech. I was so glad to see him!
Expecting the radiologist to come and speak with me, I was surprised when the ultrasound tech. returned and pointed to a wall phone, informing me that my OB/GYN would be calling me momentarily. I thought "This cannot be good. If my doctor is calling, it's very bad news."
I began crying and clutching my husband, spilling out about 1,000 thoughts and concerns while jumping up and down in frustration. Fear was taking over.
Shortly, the phone rang and it was my docctor. She started the conversation by telling me that she has been through this herself, and that 90% of breast lumps are benign. She told me that I'd be having a biopsy the next day at the hosptial and that I'd be in good hands with the doctor there. She encouraged me to think positive thoughts and to focus on the 90% statistic.
Her call offered me some hope. And, it was good news that a slot for a biopsy the next day had opened up, because normally it takes weeks to get in for that procedure. I started to have a sense that "God is with me in this."
Stephen and I went together for the biopsy. Again, Kaylee was kind to babysit. We sat in the waiting area and I put my brain to work reading "PEOPLE" magazine. :-) It was a good distraction.
Someone I knew came in and sat in the waiting area. I couldn't speak other than to greet her and smile. My heart was too heavy and I didn't want to spill out all that was on my mind, because perhaps she was also there for unpleasant reasons.
After a while the same nurse that had been on duty the day before led me to an exam room. She explained some possibilities for what would happen during the visit. Not long after, the "breast doctor" arrived in the room. She took a medical history, did a manual exam, and led my husband and I to her office to review the images taken the day before as well as the ones from the previous week. She pointed out that the lump is different from the normal breast tissue. She said that it is "concerning for cancer". I had a gazillion questions floating in my head, but that "C" word has a way of numbing a person's ability to process thoughts in a logical order. You get kind of hung up on that word: CANCER.
The doctor escorted us to the ultrasound room where she prepared my skin for the biopsy. The nurse and ultrasound tech. were there. Each person was offering good care and comfort in her own way, but nothing seemed to ease the emotional turmoil I was feeling. Occasionally, a tissue was passed my way, or the nurse would wipe my tears, but no one was giving me words of HOPE. They were simply CONSOLING. It didn't console me. I could only think of my three babies, my husband (whose family is far away in Africa), my oldest two children, my grandbaby who is due to arrive in June, and my aging parents facing their own health challenges. ALL of these people NEED me. I cannot be sick. I cannot take time off from my responsibilities. There isn't any time. They NEED me 24/7. I'm on call all of the time.
As the procedure took place, the medical staff kept apologizing for any pain or discomfort. didn't they know that I didn't care about that? I ONLY cared about my family. I can't leave them. They NEED me. Who cares about the pain and inconvenience of having a biopsy. They could do whatever they wanted to do to my body, just as long as they'd get me back on my feet and home to my family.
My husband was by my side, holding my hand, and offering encouragement. He sweetly whispered "I love you." I'm so grateful for his presence, for his support, for his love.
The nurse led me back to the exam room, the mammogram tech. draped a warm towel over my shoulders for comfort, and Stephen and I waited for further instruction. Eventually, the nurse patched up my wound and gave me discharge info. and told me to get dressed. The doctor invited us to her office.
The doctor told me she'd call with the biopsy results by Friday afternoon. That will be March 19th, 2010. I don't want to be alone when that call comes. I asked her "Is there a chance it's not cancer?" She said that she believes that it IS cancer. The next step will be to check my body to see if it has spread. My bones. My blood. My lungs.
Well, when hearing bad news about other people, I always say "We never know what a day will bring." Well, this time, it's my turn, and I am really and truly shocked that I'm facing the strong possibility of having CANCER. Just a week ago, I was doing my normal routine of caring for my busy children, helping my older ones, and taking care of the home and my husband. We were also doing construction in the house. Never a moment of rest, always busy. Now, i feel as I'm watching other people all around me continue with their busy lives and routines while my life has come to a stop, a pause, while I wait to find out if it's going to continue. It's not a fun "place" to be. I'm worried. I know where I'm going when I die, because I believe in Jesus. But, I'm not ready to leave my family. THAT is the pain for me. Not the cancer.
When we came home from the hospital, my kids were all at home, all five of them, and my daughter-in-law. What could be better than that when you've just received scary news? FAMILY was THERE. We ate boiled dinner because it was St. Patrick's Day. :-) We watched a movie my son and his wife had brought to share with us. I tried to enjoy it, and I did for the most part, but my mind kept wandering back to "What if?"
My husband wanted to show me what the carpenter had accomplished in the bathroom that day. I went upstairs to see this and looked at my little 16 months old girl playing in the empty tub while her dad showed me the progress in the room. I broke down and cried, because I love that kid so much! I CANNOT LEAVE that baby!
Our bathroom remodeling projects have been exciting for us, but it's interesting how just a day of bad news can change one's perspective. I don't care about bathrooms now. I just want to take care of my family and be there for them. That's all.
I went to sleep okay last night, but was awakened by the sound of the dehumidifier at 12:30 a.m. I went downstairs to use the bathroom and greeted my daugther who had not been home from work for very long. I showed her my bruise from the biopsy and we shared a giggle about how the doctor had initialed my breast before she performed the procedure. I told Kaylee "I didn't care if the doctor had drawn a picture on me--- I just didn't care." (I want to be well!)
It took a while to fall back to sleep after waking in the night. I laid there and listened to my husband's breathing and thought about how I want to LIVE and hear that sound for a long time yet.
The prayer support of others and the friendship of those who care is greatly appreciated. This trial is not a secret. I don't care who knows. How can anyone go through something like this alone? One can't.
Naturally, because we're human, we may ask ourselves "Have I done something so bad in my life that God is punishing me?" I'll admit it, that was a question I asked my husband, in tears, as I lay in the ultrasound room. But, I know the answer. God isn't punishing me. If nothing else, He is showing me that HE is in control, HE is "there", He is not leaving my side in this. HE is my hope, my strength. He holds the future. He new the days of my life before I was even formed in my mother's womb. (Psalm 139:13-16; my favorite versese). But, I'm still scared!! (I'm human!)
You know, my daughter felt God was leading her to take this semester off from Bible college and my husband and I thought she should just go back and finish up--- graduate in May with her class. Logically, it seemed to be the thing to do. Although I thought she should return to school, I respected her decision, because I'm not God. She has to listen to HIM first. And, in a small way, I thought ... maybe this is going to be a time of need in our family. Maybe that's why God's impressing upon Kaylee's heart to stay home right now. But, I wasn't thinking about myself... I was thinking about my elderly father's health, Kaylee's paternal grandpa's health concerns, and the upcoming arrival of my grandbaby. Maybe an extra pair of hands would be needed.
It's interesting that both of my grown children have come home at this time. God! He's got all bases covered. :-)
If you're reading my blog, please pray for me and my family. Tomorrow will be a big day. The results are coming.
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