August 19, 2011
I've decided that this will be my last post in my cancer journey blog. August 4th marked the one year anniversary of the administration of my final chemotherapy treatment. It's hard to believe a whole year has passed, and I must admit that I am glad to be putting it all behind me.
That is part of the reason I'm making this my last entry. I need to move forward. An old friend from junior and senior high school unknowing helped me make a turning point. I'd shared with her that I was still fatigued and fearful of cancer. In her reply she pointed out just how much I'd been able to do in recent months. That is when I realized that I have taken my life back. I AM LIVING!
I plan to print this blog, assemble it in a binder, and store it in my "cancer tote" along with my books about breast cancer, my wig, my headwear, and all of the wonderful cards and notes that people sent to me during the treatment period. I'm going to put my "cancer" in storage now. It's not going in the trash, because it's part of my life journey. It's shaped me. It's strengthened me. It's reminded me that God is bigger than any challenges that we face.
Before concluding, I want to share a few updates:
My niece Sara is still undergoing chemotherapy (Herceptin) every three weeks. She's tolerating it well, and it's not impacting her hair regrowth, etc. She's looking forward to returning to work as a kindergarten teacher next month. :) Praise the Lord for His healing!
I had my quarterly oncology check-up on Aug. 15th. The nurse practitioner who examined me found nothing concerning aside from a few low blood counts and vitamin D deficiency. I'm now taking 5,000 units of D per day and already feel the positive effects.
I'll go to the hospital for a breast ultrasound on Sept. 19th to check on the 5.5 cm oval shaped mass (most likely filled with fluid) in my "cancer breast" in March. If some of the fluid hasn't been absorbed it's possible the surgeon will concider doing a needle aspiration to remove it. I hope so. Although, it's not something he wants to do due to the risk of introducing bacteria. Anyway, I saw a copy of the report from the March ultrasound and mammogram and it stated that the mass is most likely benign.
Stephen and I have decided to homeschool our boys this year. Now, if that isn't a huge leap of faith, I don't know what is! :) It feels good to be living again. Living without cancer!
Thank you to those who've kept up with my blog during the past year and a half. Your support and prayers have made a bigger difference than you know. I'll not forget this blessing!
Who knows? Maybe a home school blog is just around the corner...
Friday, August 19, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Another good check-up
Another four months check-up with the surgeon today---- he said everything looks good. That means no suspicious lumps, no healing concerns, etc. PHEW!
He asked how I was doing emotionally with the post-cancer process.... I told him I still have fear at times... about recurrence. He gave some good advice: using the visual of a box--- when the fear comes out of it--- don't wrestle with it--- just remind myself that I've felt fearful before and it passes. :) I can relate to this, because when I'm overtired and emotional I tell myself I'll be fine after getting some sleep. It's a good way to rationalize when emotions try and take over. :)
I wasn't surprised to find that I felt very tired after the appointment. I think these "cancer reminder" type medical visits kind of stir up "old stuff".
ANYWAY--- I'm encouraged by the good news!
He asked how I was doing emotionally with the post-cancer process.... I told him I still have fear at times... about recurrence. He gave some good advice: using the visual of a box--- when the fear comes out of it--- don't wrestle with it--- just remind myself that I've felt fearful before and it passes. :) I can relate to this, because when I'm overtired and emotional I tell myself I'll be fine after getting some sleep. It's a good way to rationalize when emotions try and take over. :)
I wasn't surprised to find that I felt very tired after the appointment. I think these "cancer reminder" type medical visits kind of stir up "old stuff".
ANYWAY--- I'm encouraged by the good news!
Friday, July 1, 2011
OUCH!
I guess it's time to not share so much with those closest to me--- apparently, they're growing tired of hearing me talk about how I'm NOT back to "normal" yet post-cancer treatment.
It's not that I enjoy hearing my own voice saying "I'm so tired" on a regular basis. Frankly, I'm sick of it, too. I don't say it for the purpose of gaining sympathy. It's just a vocal sigh of desperation sometimes.
The fact of the matter is I am struggling to keep up some days, and I don't like it one bit. :) I want to be able to just BE ME again. I'm fighting for that every single day.
I look in the mirror and I don't see "me". Not the me I used to be. I'm someone with a dramatically different hairstyle that I did not choose. I'm much more emotional due to the Tamoxifen drug I have to take.
Sometimes, I feel like I'm still battling. I'm not battling cancer per se (other than with the ongoing Tamoxifen treatment), but I'm battling to reclaim my energy, my life, my focus... and most of all my sense of normalcy.
I don't believe it's possible for someone who's not been there to really grasp what it is like post-treatment. You go through "hell" for a good chunk of a year (or, more) and then when treatment's over and you look okay again--- you're expected to just pick up where you left off like nothing happened.
Yet, you've got physical scars, side effects of drugs, some long-term side effects of chemo (i.e. memory problems, concentration issues), and lingering fatigue.
And, nightmar-ish memories of what you went through. If I even THINK about the chemotherapy treatment area of the cancer care facility, or visualize the IV drip bags or vials full of the "poison" (chemo) that went into my veins, I LITERALLY feel nauseated.
The summer weather sometimes transports me back in memory to last summer when I felt sick from treatment. I'd sit in the recliner with the fan on my face for hours. I'm waiting for this summer to go by (not too quickly, though, I hope---Ha!) so that next summer--- the previous summer won't hold those "last summer memories".... it'll be a different comparison all together.
Back to the point of this entry. Today, I was informed by someone close to me (someone who's supposed to be "on my side") that I DO NOT HAVE BREAST CANCER, THAT I AM NO MORE TIRED THAN ANY OTHER MOM OF LITTLE KIDS, AND THAT I NEED TO BE THANKFUL FOR BEING ALIVE RATHER THAN COMPLAINING ABOUT HOW TIRED I AM.
I cannot tell you how much that stung. She sees me as someone who's just "stuck" and complaining. No, I do not have breast cancer. I am thankful to be alive. I AM more tired than I was as a mom of little kids BEFORE cancer diagnosis and treatment. The TRUTH of the matter is that I am dog-gone tired most days and feel like I am fighting hard to keep up and keep going. I sometimes feel desperate --- and my body begs for rest that I cannot get. I push and push and push myself until I'm so tired that I feel like my legs are going to give out--- but I keep going some more. I have three very little kids to take care of and they are BUSY. It is exhausting for someone who's not recovering, let alone for someone who is.
It is MY RIGHT to be tired at this time. I don't like it any more than they like hearing me talk about it. I've been encouraged by other women who've "been there" that the fatigue WILL eventually go away. I hope so.
The kids are asking for something... so, here goes... :) There is little rest for a mom.
It's not that I enjoy hearing my own voice saying "I'm so tired" on a regular basis. Frankly, I'm sick of it, too. I don't say it for the purpose of gaining sympathy. It's just a vocal sigh of desperation sometimes.
The fact of the matter is I am struggling to keep up some days, and I don't like it one bit. :) I want to be able to just BE ME again. I'm fighting for that every single day.
I look in the mirror and I don't see "me". Not the me I used to be. I'm someone with a dramatically different hairstyle that I did not choose. I'm much more emotional due to the Tamoxifen drug I have to take.
Sometimes, I feel like I'm still battling. I'm not battling cancer per se (other than with the ongoing Tamoxifen treatment), but I'm battling to reclaim my energy, my life, my focus... and most of all my sense of normalcy.
I don't believe it's possible for someone who's not been there to really grasp what it is like post-treatment. You go through "hell" for a good chunk of a year (or, more) and then when treatment's over and you look okay again--- you're expected to just pick up where you left off like nothing happened.
Yet, you've got physical scars, side effects of drugs, some long-term side effects of chemo (i.e. memory problems, concentration issues), and lingering fatigue.
And, nightmar-ish memories of what you went through. If I even THINK about the chemotherapy treatment area of the cancer care facility, or visualize the IV drip bags or vials full of the "poison" (chemo) that went into my veins, I LITERALLY feel nauseated.
The summer weather sometimes transports me back in memory to last summer when I felt sick from treatment. I'd sit in the recliner with the fan on my face for hours. I'm waiting for this summer to go by (not too quickly, though, I hope---Ha!) so that next summer--- the previous summer won't hold those "last summer memories".... it'll be a different comparison all together.
Back to the point of this entry. Today, I was informed by someone close to me (someone who's supposed to be "on my side") that I DO NOT HAVE BREAST CANCER, THAT I AM NO MORE TIRED THAN ANY OTHER MOM OF LITTLE KIDS, AND THAT I NEED TO BE THANKFUL FOR BEING ALIVE RATHER THAN COMPLAINING ABOUT HOW TIRED I AM.
I cannot tell you how much that stung. She sees me as someone who's just "stuck" and complaining. No, I do not have breast cancer. I am thankful to be alive. I AM more tired than I was as a mom of little kids BEFORE cancer diagnosis and treatment. The TRUTH of the matter is that I am dog-gone tired most days and feel like I am fighting hard to keep up and keep going. I sometimes feel desperate --- and my body begs for rest that I cannot get. I push and push and push myself until I'm so tired that I feel like my legs are going to give out--- but I keep going some more. I have three very little kids to take care of and they are BUSY. It is exhausting for someone who's not recovering, let alone for someone who is.
It is MY RIGHT to be tired at this time. I don't like it any more than they like hearing me talk about it. I've been encouraged by other women who've "been there" that the fatigue WILL eventually go away. I hope so.
The kids are asking for something... so, here goes... :) There is little rest for a mom.
Monday, June 27, 2011
A Year After Chemo Began
Today is Monday, June 27th, 2011. My first chemo treatment was a year ago in June of 2010. It was a "sick" summer. While sick, I remember slowly walking out onto the deck for fresh air. I'd hoped it would ease the nausea from chemotherapy. I remember sitting there and crying inside "I don't want to die. I want to live to enjoy this beautiful back yard." This year, I'm looking at that back yard with a different perspective than I did before having cancer... I appreciate it much more.
I also remember being VERY weak and nauseated at the twins' 5th birthday party last year. Others had to host it and operate it for me. I sat and observed, giving instructions and snapping a few pictures here and there. It was hard to feel limited. After the party, little Stephen and I chatted about what we'd do for his sixth birthday. I told him Mommy won't be sick anymore when it's time for his next birthday. He told me he wanted a party in our back yard, including having a pinata and Pin the Tail on the donkey game. We talked about how we'd play the game at the wooden fence.
Well, today I bought the game. Today, we went outside as a family to start making a homemade pinata. The back yard party is scheduled for Sunday. I feel like we've come full circle in some ways. We've fast-forwarded to the next year.
I'm still not back to my old self, but I'm gaining. The Ghana trip put me back a bit. I'm still tired most of the time and I'm not sleeping well at night due to the effects of Tamoxifen. But, I'm here, by God's grace.
Sometimes I feel overcome with fear that the cancer wasn't completely eradicated or that it will come back. Or, that a new cancer will form. It causes me to feel I can't plan for the future. But, then I remember that "God is in control". None of us knows when our time on earth will come to an end. We all need to live each day well. Cherish our families. Seek God's plan for our lives.
I can hear the kids in the back yard. They're playing with the sprinkler. I want to "soak up the fun" and watch them for a while.
I also remember being VERY weak and nauseated at the twins' 5th birthday party last year. Others had to host it and operate it for me. I sat and observed, giving instructions and snapping a few pictures here and there. It was hard to feel limited. After the party, little Stephen and I chatted about what we'd do for his sixth birthday. I told him Mommy won't be sick anymore when it's time for his next birthday. He told me he wanted a party in our back yard, including having a pinata and Pin the Tail on the donkey game. We talked about how we'd play the game at the wooden fence.
Well, today I bought the game. Today, we went outside as a family to start making a homemade pinata. The back yard party is scheduled for Sunday. I feel like we've come full circle in some ways. We've fast-forwarded to the next year.
I'm still not back to my old self, but I'm gaining. The Ghana trip put me back a bit. I'm still tired most of the time and I'm not sleeping well at night due to the effects of Tamoxifen. But, I'm here, by God's grace.
Sometimes I feel overcome with fear that the cancer wasn't completely eradicated or that it will come back. Or, that a new cancer will form. It causes me to feel I can't plan for the future. But, then I remember that "God is in control". None of us knows when our time on earth will come to an end. We all need to live each day well. Cherish our families. Seek God's plan for our lives.
I can hear the kids in the back yard. They're playing with the sprinkler. I want to "soak up the fun" and watch them for a while.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Ghana
There is just far too much to share about regarding our trip to Ghana. I couldn't possibly record it all in one entry. I'm still processing the trip, anyway, and trying to put some disappointments in context.
We had a plan to take a trip to SOMEWHERE once I'd be done with active cancer treatment. But, three days prior to the last radiation appointment, we received the sad news that Stephen's dad had passed away.
Naturally, Papa's funeral took precedence over a frivilous trip to some place like Disney or another location here on the east coast. I'll admit, I was a bit disappointed that we couldn't do something totally fun and celebrate the end of a very long year and a "second chance" at life. I'd so looked forward to it for months. It was one of my motivating factors in fighting cancer.
Fast forward to February. Realizing that airfare to Ghana was incredibly expensive, we knew that only Stephen would be able to go home for his dad's funeral. And, we had to work through his grief and his desire for the kids and I to NOT be there for that difficult time. (After going to the village where the funeral was held, I soooo totally understood why he felt it'd be best for us to not attend the funeral--which was several days in length. More on that later.)
By the time Stephen was able to purchase his airfare, we'd made a decision that the kids and I would go over to Ghana two weeks after Stephen, just a few days after the funeral. We'd spend two weeks there with family--- connecting the kids and his relatives and culture. I so wanted the children to meet their grandmother, because we'd already missed out on introducing them to Grandpa. I'd never met my dad's parents and had always felt a hole in my heart. I didn't want the kids to experience that, and I had feared we'd lose one or both of Stephen's parents before the kids could meet them.
Anyway, once we made the decision and put those tickets on the credit card (JUST AFTER having paid off credit card debt and not wanting more), we started to actively plan and prepare for the trip. We put a LOT of time and effort into preparing. It was WORK!
Well, Stephen's time was up--- he'd fly to Ghana on March 28th. The kids and I took him to Portland, said "good-bye" and headed for home. I spent the next two weeks rarely ever sitting down due to being so incredibly busy on my own with the kids and responsibilities. Stephen was super busy preparing for his dad's funeral. Let me pause and share that a Ghanaian funeral is NOTHING like a short, quick U.S. one. Check it out on the internet--- it is an all out social celebration that involves MUCH planning. It's a HUGE tribute to the loved one who's passed.
Stephen's siblings all came together from different parts of the world to help with the funeral and to say a painful g00d-bye to Papa. I've seen the video of the funeral and it's something else--- full of love, grief, and wonderful tributes to Papa. Hundreds of people gathered to pay their respects.
Another fast-forward--- April 12th was the day the kids and I'd travel to Ghana. The night before, my son and his wife (and baby) came to help me prepare for the trip. Kanaho did my nails and helped by bathing the kids. Tyler kept us company and we had a really good time. Kanaho and I loaded up the car and chose jewelry for travel day. :) FINALLY, after a couple of months of preparing, we were going to go!
We got off the next day at the right time, arrived in Portland a few hours before the flight, and visited with our friends there. The couple took us to the airport at about 4 PM. They were a huge help to me with the kids and with checking the luggage through. Tyler's family came to the airport to surprise us and to say "good-bye". :)
We said our good-byes and went through security... went to the bathroom, bought milk and water, and went to our gate. How EXCITED we all were--- Kathryn couldn't wait to see her daddy (she'd missed him terribly), the boys couldn't wait to see Ghana, and I couldn't wait for both!
When we arrived at the gate, there was a long line at the desk and people sitting everywhere. No chairs were available. This seemed strange to me. I thought "Hmmm. Maybe I'd better get in line to see what's going on." So, the kids and I lined up and a girl behind us said the flight was being delayed due to mechanical failure in a different state---and she said we'd probably miss our connecting flight to Ghana. My heart sank. WHAT would we do?
After several chats with STephen and waiting in line for a long time we received the bad news that we'd not get out to Washington til about 8:30 PM ... and our flight to Ghana would leave there at 10:44 PM. The man at the desk said we'd not make it. He had us sit down for a bit while he worked out what he could for us. The best he could come up with was that we'd fly to DC and TRY to catch our plane. If we didn't make it, we'd be rerouted to NYC the next morning and spend NINE HOURS in that airport before flying out in the late aftenroon with another airline.
Well, we took the flight to DC and I vomitted like crazy. It was all I could do to take care of the kids. When we landed in DC , I was sick, weak and dehydrated, yet we had to "hoof it" to get to our next flight. We had LITTLE TIME before take off--- 30 minutes. Teh flight attendant requested help for me and the kids.
A man met us at the door and took us inside the airport--- then, turned us over to a man whom I believe is a native of somewhere in Africa. That man, Matthias, met us with a wheelchair and piled our carry-on's on it. He disappeared into a doorway and came back about three minutes later. I was going crazy worrying about losing even a second, let alone minutes. He came out and we RAN through the airport, because the TRAIN WAS DOWN. Oh, could this possibly get worse?! It was 10:15 at night and we were RUNNING through this airport with little kids and a bunch of bags. It felt like we ran for eternity. We went through four elevators, two people mover walkways, and on a bus type thing... at times I couldn't even catch my breath and felt parched. So dehydrated! We FINALLY reached the gate and were met by a man with a cold affect. He told me "It's gone. Customer courtesy care at gate such and such will help you." I asked him to PLEASE have mercy --- I'm traveling with three children and I've been so sick. I could see the plane was still AT THE GATE. He very coldly said "I can call a parimedic for you." I told him to please not be sarcastic and to show a bit of kindness. He was very condescending and said "I offered to get a paramedic for you." I don't even want to continue to write about this--- he was just so unfeeling and UNhelpful.
We went to the desk for help. Another passenger who'd been stranded advocated for me -- she requested I be put in teh same hotel so she could help me with my kids. The workers at the desk didn't want to help me, as they wanted to close the desk so the next incoming flight wouldn't "stick them" there longer than they wanted to be there. They wanted me to go to ANOTHER terminal with my kids to get help there. This was LATE at night. We were exhausted. We were hungry. I'd only had a sandwich at 1 PM and the kids ate Happy Meals at 3 PM. :-( The other traveler fed my kids little crackers or whatever she had in her bag. A NICE lady with twins at home offered to stay late and HELP US get arrangements. She had empathy. Her co-workers argued with her in front of me, not wanting her to help me. I couldn't believe it. I looked one lady in the eyes and told her to HAVE MERCY, and that if she'd stop talking to the lady who was helping me then she could finish sooner and they could all get out of there. The "nice lady" helped me and I thanked her profusely. Off to baggage claim we went, with the other traveler, to try and claim ALL EIGHT HEAVY CHECKED BAGS AND OUR CARSEAT (which were supposed to be on their way to Ghana with us at that time). I was sooooooo discouraged.
You know that really overtired feeling--- sick and washed out? Well, that's how I felt as we went to the baggage claim office to request that my bags be sent out onto the belt for pick-up. The other traveler once again advocated for me and made the request. The workers said it could take up to an HOUR to get the bags. It was alreadry about midnight. My helper said that she was very sorry, but she didn't know that she could stay that late to help me, as she would have an early morning flight. I was disheartened as I didn't know how in the world I could manage three kids, a stroller, a car seat, several carry-on's, my purse, the diaper bag AND eight checked bags (all close to 50 pounds) without help. Yet, I totally understood and appreciated all of the kindness she'd bestowed upon us. I still consider her one of the "angels" that helped us manage during a very difficult time.
I'd not brought warm outerwear for any of us, because we were going to hot, sunny Ghana. I'd not expected a delay in chilly DC. So, we got a porter and went outside to meet the airport shuttle--- and it was COLD. The kind lady let the boys wrap up in her heavy coat for a bit, and when they were warm, she gave it to me to use. She insisted I get into the van with the kids and she helped the driver load all of our bags into the van. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for her help. I was so exhausted and I didn't have any steam left.
We got to the hotel at 1:30 AM. She and I checked in. I thanked her again, wished her the same type of help she'd given me, and we said our good-bye. She gave me four $2.00 bills to use in the morning for porter tips.
The kids and I had to sit in the lobby for what seemed like forever while our driver had to settle an issue involving a loud truck parked under some hotel room windows. I wondered why that was more important than helping a lady with three exhausted kids to their room. Ha! Finally, he came back and helped us get our heavy load sorted out. Some went into a meeting room for storage and what we really needed went up to the room.
Meanwhile, I'd asked Stephen to call his family's friend in DC to see if he could help in any way. He was calling me, but I was too exhausted to talk. I put the kids to bed and they were asleep within minutes. I finally laid down at 2 AM, after trying to get everything ready for our 4 AM wake-up and rush to the airport to be there by 5 AM to catch our flight at 7 AM. We'd have to check all of our bags through AGAIN.
By 2:30 AM I couldn't sleep and was so stressed and sick that I texted Stephen in Ghana to call me. I told him that there was no way I could get up in a couple of hours and check those heavy bags in, and then spend nine hours in New York with the kids. I asked if he'd mind if I called United to request the next flight out to Ghana two nights later. It was disappointing for all of us, but I just could NOT continue at that time.
I couldn't get the toll free number for United to work from the hotel phone. I called the front desk about 4-5 times and no success. The desk guy told me to come and use his cell phone. I told him I couldn't leave my three kids sleeping alone to do that. Frustrated, I made yet another ROAM CHARGE call from my cell phone and was on the phone for 22 minutes with United. The lady graciously changed our flight to the Thursday night one--- April 14.
I rested some more and before I knew it, it was time for the kids to wake up and eat. I was way too tired to take them to the continental breakfast, but we had not had meals of any sort since the afternoon before. I bathed, dressed and took them downstairs in PJ's. A NICE mom of twins (another "angel") offered to help me fill a server's tray with food and drinks, and then carry it to our room for us. Oh, how thankful I was to have her help. God kept bringing these helpers along--- I pray He blesses them all for their help!
I couldn't eat. I hadn't been able to eat much due to the stress of managing alone for the past two weeks, as well as the stress of the delay. The kids ate and it was good to know they had had healthy food.
We didn't know where we'd stay for the coming night and check-out time was at noon. Stephen's brother had told him that the airline should put us up again and pay for meals. I mentioned to teh front desk worker that we'd like to stay another night if the airline would cover it. (They'd have to... $399 per night in DC!) She called them and they told her I'd have to come to the airport to talk to them. Yeah, right--- with the kids and all the bags? And, with a shuttle?
Meanwhile, Stephen's family's friend tried his best to come and get us. He finally showed up at 1:30 PM to take us to his home in Alexandra, VA. The guy had to leave work to get us and drive us 45 min. IN HIS WORK DELIVERY TRUCK to his home. It was so nice of him to do that. The boys had to ride ON THE FLOOR in front of my feet and the baby's carseat was between the guy and myself. It was an interesting ride--- with a stranger--- to an unfamiliar place. My husband assured me the man was a good person, a fellow Ghanaian and friend of the family.
He dropped us off at his tall brick home, and he put our heavy bags in his garage. He showed us the playroom and our bedroom, and off to work he went. A lady was in the kitchen. Was she his wife? Sister? She didn't speak much English. I had no idea who anyone was. The kids made themselves right at home and enjoyed the play room. We were all sooooo soooo hungry. I dug in my luggage to look through the American food I'd packed to cook in Ghana for my kids. I found spaghetti. I cooked that --- and we ate it plain. No butter. No sauce. No meat. I could hardly eat due to the stress, but the kids ate.
We spent the day there--- and I was in frequent phone contact with my mother and husband. And, texts with my sister. Everyone was worried.
By 8 PM I was so tired and wanted to just take the kids to bed. Our host had gone out for tacos, milk and OJ for us but it'd been a couple of hours and I just couldn't wait any longer. Just as we were heading to bed, a flurry of activity and noise came into the house. The man's wife (I didn't know who she was at the time) had come home with their two and four year old daughters. Their oldest daughter had more energy than any other kid I'd ever met. My kids gravitated toward her like magnets! I thought "Oh now, we'll never get to bed now." Ha! Their mom was so kind--- she cooked rice, fried plantain and little sausages and shared with us. Oh, how good it was to have HOT FOOD. I'm grateful, still. :0) My kids ate and ate, and it did my heart good to see them eat.
Off to bed we went, with food in bellies and a night-time sleep aid in me. (I HAD TO SLEEP!) We piled into one big bed with one pillow and I was glad we'd brought along the kids' pillow pets! :) We slept very well, thank the Lord!
Morning came and the day ahead seemed long, but the time went pretty quickly. The wife was home with us and I was happy to have her company. She helped us wash laundry (I couldn't figure out how to use her fancy front load machines! ha!) She gave me things to take to her mom and sister in Ghana for her. I was glad to help, because she'd welcomed strangers (us) into her home when she was tired and pregnant. I know it wasn't easy for her to entertain people at a moment's notice like that. I hope she knows how grateful Stephen and I are to her and her husband. The boys did school work and played, and Kathryn ran around the large home. Before we knew it, our host was home from work and ready to take us to the airport again. FINALLY, we'd fly to Ghana and be with Daddy--- I so wanted to see my husband.
Our host helped us check our bags. I have to add a lil' bit of a racism experience at this point. In Maine, it doesn't happen much to Caucasians, but when it happened to me in DC--- I empathized with my husband for his "standing out" in our area on a daily basis. When I climbed out of our host's white SUV and went around to close the door my kids had left open on the other side, an 20'something African American man who was mouthing off and trying to impress a young woman he was talking to said, loudly, "Now, THERE is a lady. Even her car is white." I ignored him, as I knew he was showing off for the girl. Besides, I was on my way to Ghana... finally, and that's all I cared about at that moment! Ha!
When arriving at the check-in counter---much to my surprise--- MATTHIAS appeared. He's the older gentleman who stayed after work for an hour that night we missed our flight to help us. How nice it was to see him, "Angel #1". :) He came over and said "hello".
Once the bags were checked, our host walked us as far as he could, and then he couldn't continue into the security area. I thanked him again, shook his hand, and we said "good-bye".
Getting to our gate was a process, but things went off without a problem. The bus (it's some sort of an inter-airport shuttle thing) driver recognized us from the other day and gave us a cheery "hello". He pointed us in the direction of a gift shop and a Wendy's and off we went to buy Dramamine (which did the trick next flight) and supper. The kids happily ate their fast food and I tried to eat a few bites of a potato. Still too stressed to eat much...
How NICE it was to find the gate area filled with mostly Ghanaians--- who are some of the most hospitable, respectful people in the world. We were met with smiles and small talk, and I felt comfortable and that we were somewhere "familiar" with more people from my husband's culture.
It didn't take long before the boarding call occured. I didn't realize that people were assigned seating groups, so I jumped right up and was first in line with my kids. The gate worker very rudely asked me what my seat assignment is. I looked at the ticket and gave her my seat number. That was NOT what she was asking for and she made no effort to be kind about the misunderstanding. Once a Ghanaian man in line behind me pointed out that we were in seating priority number four and I told the worker that, she VERY unkindly told me I was blocking the way and to move. I couldn't. People were surrounding us on every side, and I had no where to go with my stoller, three kids and carry-on bags. We stood there while others around us commented on how rude the worker was to me.
Eventually, we boarded the plane and I texted my husband, sister, daughter, son and daughter-in-law that we were ON THE PLANE. They were all so glad and relieved. Off we went---- and the kids slept wonderfully all night long. My kids were SO GOOD and adapted to every single change with ease. I'm thankful for that.
Oh, what a time we'd had! And, after investing so much in this trip---- and having such high hopes for our time in Ghana--- it was extremely disappointed to endure these hardships, including losing two precious days of our short time with family in Ghana. I have to admit, two weeks later, I am still deeply disappointed and I still feel cheated. It's taking a long time for me to process everything. I want to find all of the successess and the blessings--- as I'm sure there are many. That's partly why I'm writing to share this account.
It's too much to write about in one day, but overall, things went well in Ghana. We had some hardships like no running water for our entire stay (the well had run dry, had to be dug deeper, and worked just after we left), catching APOLLO (conjunctivitis of some sort), not being able to catch up on my rest, and enduring the heat (90's) and humidity.
The children LOVED their time in Ghana and were so happy to play with cousins. They enjoyed chasing goats and chickens. :) They played outside in the warm rain. They went to the zoo and ate delicious pizza several times. They experienced children's church in another culture and language. They really, really had a blast, and they still talk about it.
Stephen's sister was so good to us--- she installed an air conditioner in our bedroom. How can I thank her enough for that generosity? It made things so much more comfortable. Even my Ghanaian born and raised husband was finding it hard to tolerate the heat.
Oh, Grandma LOVED her time with the kids. She bathed them, doctored Sammy's hurt knee, went shopping for sandals ("slippers" as Ghanaians call them) for the kids.... she couldn't speak the same language but so enjoyed trying to communicate with them. She'd talk to them in TWI, my husband's first language, and they didn't know what she was saying--- but it was so sweet to see the interaction between them and their dear grandmother.
I love my mother-in-law so much. She's a very kind, good Christian woman. We exchanged many hugs during my stay, and it meant the world to me to be met with open arms. I teased my husband that his mom is also a hugger. She and I are alike in many ways and it's funny. But, best of all, we both love Stephen! :0) We are hoping that she can come and visit us soon. It'd take some good planning and prayer, as it's difficult for Ghanaians to get a tourist visa to the U.S. I'd be honored to host my mother-in-law in my home and look forward to all of the little things we can do for her while she's here.
It was nice to see my husband reunited with all of his siblings for the first time in many years. They're great people---each and every one of them. I really enjoyed meeting the ones I'd not met before, and seeing again the ones I had. The kids had so many aunties around that they didn't know who was who. :0)
It was also wonderful to meet the nieces and nephews who'd been born since my last trip to Ghana--- eight years ago. I may be biased, but I think they're all super special kids. :) I miss them!! And, it was meaningful to see old friends again.
While there, we were able to view my husband's land. Someday, we hope to build a family home there for our visits to Ghana, and for my mother-in-law if she'd like to live there.
One of the things during our trip that impacted me the most, and still does, was the visit to my father-in-law's and mother-in-law's home village, Mamaso. The way that I can explain how I feel about this place is that it's kind of like the scene in THE LION, THE WITCH, AND THE WARDROBE when the kids enter from the wardrobe into a secret, hidden land. I feel like going to Mamaso is like going "into the bush" to a forgotten place and a hiden people. I cannot get the faces and living conditions out of my mind and heart.
Stephen's dad spent most of his time in later years in Mamaso, his home. It was dear to him. The kids would prod at him to come into the city (where he also had a home) where life was easier, but he was just happy back at "home" in the village.
It meant a lot to me to take my kids to Papa's village. To Papa's house. To play in Papa's courtyard where he used to sit and visit with others. I know it'd mean the world to him to know that his grandkids from the U.S. came to his place, met his friends and family, and saw what meant so much to him--- his village.
It was painful to stop at his grave along the road leading to the village. We placed flowers there and said "good-bye". It hurt. That was not the way I'd wanted my kids to meet their grandpa, the man that one of our twins got his name from. Oh, how hard it was to think about how he was buried there and we were just too late.... we brought our kids too late. :( But, what could we have done? I had given birth to three babies in 3 1/2 years and then got cancer. We just didn't have the money to go, and the right timing hadn't worked out when he was alive.
It somehow gives me comfort to know that we honored Papa by going to his village, even if we were late. He wasn't there to proudly introduce his grandkids to his friends and family, and to show us around, but we still went--- and we met them--- and we saw what was special to him. We touched his cocoa beans that were laying drying in the sun. (He was a cocoa farmer.) We met his elderly brother and so many relatives from his home. We went to see Papa--- we went to say "good-bye". And, the children ran around and played in front of his room. Papa, we came. Papa, we love you. Papa, we miss you. :-(
While in Mamaso, we also met several of Stephen's mom's relatives. We met four surviving elderly siblings--- two sisters and two brothers. I am still "crying inside" about their living conditions. I can't get out of my mind how thin one uncle is--- skin and bones, and so old. He and his wife, both worn from difficult lives without conveniences, were sitting outside while their evening meal cooked in a small pot over a fire. I can't explain it, but their affects were flat--- they looked worn from life. Oh, how I wish I had the means to make their last years more comfortable for them.
Another uncle lives in a very run down home with live animals in little partitions connected to the home. The conditions are so bad and dirty. He's an educated man--- a school teacher in the village---but life is hard there and pay is little. It was an honor to meet him--- I know his daughter who is a lovely young woman. He made the sacrafice of sending her to live with family in the city when she was young so she could have a better life.
I met Aunt Alice--- worn from a hard life, but so full of humor. She has a special place in my heart. And, I met another aunt who was tall and friendly. She seemed to be the most physically strong of the surviving siblings.
We met many cousins, including a set of six year old twin girls. Well, my twin boys never knew they had distant twin cousins in a far-away village in Africa! :)
The kids had quite a following in the village--- a whole bunch of children. My kids took balloons and lollipops to hand out to the children there. What a precious sight that was!
We saw hardworking people making palm oil in heavy, large kettles in very poor working conditions. My husband had spent a week in the village at the time of the funeral and was disheartened to see the dangerous conditions surrounding the palm oil business. He was so worried that the barefoot workers would slip on the oil covered ground and slide under the hot pots -- getting burned by the fires. He gave a cousin money to buy three pairs of shoes for the workers.
I think that the sights, people and smells of Mamaso are forever etched in my mind. I ask God "WHAT can I do for the people in Mamaso? What do I have to offer? I have no money. I don't have any idea what a stay-at-home mom with an associates degree and no financial excess can do. " But, I WANT to help. I am praying for God to show me HOW I can help. I want to go back there. And, I don't want to go empty handed. I want to go with clothing, vitamins, and other necessities such as SOAP and TOILET PAPER. I would LOVE to be able to have a well drilled in a central location for Stephen's four elderly aunts and uncles (his mom's siblings). I can't stand to think of how far they may have to walk to get water. And, even worse...they have to walk to use the toilet "in the bush". I wish I could provide camp toilets and chemicals, or better yet, have regular flushes installed. These dear people have NEVER known what it's like to have some of the small conveniences that we take for granted--- such as the ease of washing our hands at the sink. I would like to conduct a children's "good news" type gathering with my husband and listen to him teach them about the love of Jesus in his language. I would like these people to know that they have HOPE in God--- and that life on earth may be hard, but there is peace and rest in Jesus, and that the comforts of heaven are theirs to claim.
Often, as I go about my busy work in the home with all of the luxuries I have in my lower middle class home (which is more than adequate for me) , my thoughts drift back to Mamaso--- I "see" the people sitting outside in the dark with only the light of their wood or charcoal fires--- cooling off in the evening air after a long, hot day, before turning in for the night to get up and surviving admist difficult living conditions--- hoping for better days. My prayers are with them.
So, that's my account of our trip to Ghana. It was filled with challenges and emotion. I've left out a lot of things--- like going from church to church with the family (dressed in matching fabric which meant "We've lost our mother or father and it's left a vacuum inside of us.") to say "thank you" to each congregation for their help and support for the funeral. And, the one week funeral celebration that we attended in Mamaso--- a heartbreaking situation--- a young woman had lost her dad and then her mom, and she had a newborn baby. She didn't have the financial means for an elaborate funeral, and she was doing the best she could to honor her mom. I hugged her as tears ran down her face. I could share and share and share...
... a piece of each of us remains in Ghana as we go about our routines here at home.
We had a plan to take a trip to SOMEWHERE once I'd be done with active cancer treatment. But, three days prior to the last radiation appointment, we received the sad news that Stephen's dad had passed away.
Naturally, Papa's funeral took precedence over a frivilous trip to some place like Disney or another location here on the east coast. I'll admit, I was a bit disappointed that we couldn't do something totally fun and celebrate the end of a very long year and a "second chance" at life. I'd so looked forward to it for months. It was one of my motivating factors in fighting cancer.
Fast forward to February. Realizing that airfare to Ghana was incredibly expensive, we knew that only Stephen would be able to go home for his dad's funeral. And, we had to work through his grief and his desire for the kids and I to NOT be there for that difficult time. (After going to the village where the funeral was held, I soooo totally understood why he felt it'd be best for us to not attend the funeral--which was several days in length. More on that later.)
By the time Stephen was able to purchase his airfare, we'd made a decision that the kids and I would go over to Ghana two weeks after Stephen, just a few days after the funeral. We'd spend two weeks there with family--- connecting the kids and his relatives and culture. I so wanted the children to meet their grandmother, because we'd already missed out on introducing them to Grandpa. I'd never met my dad's parents and had always felt a hole in my heart. I didn't want the kids to experience that, and I had feared we'd lose one or both of Stephen's parents before the kids could meet them.
Anyway, once we made the decision and put those tickets on the credit card (JUST AFTER having paid off credit card debt and not wanting more), we started to actively plan and prepare for the trip. We put a LOT of time and effort into preparing. It was WORK!
Well, Stephen's time was up--- he'd fly to Ghana on March 28th. The kids and I took him to Portland, said "good-bye" and headed for home. I spent the next two weeks rarely ever sitting down due to being so incredibly busy on my own with the kids and responsibilities. Stephen was super busy preparing for his dad's funeral. Let me pause and share that a Ghanaian funeral is NOTHING like a short, quick U.S. one. Check it out on the internet--- it is an all out social celebration that involves MUCH planning. It's a HUGE tribute to the loved one who's passed.
Stephen's siblings all came together from different parts of the world to help with the funeral and to say a painful g00d-bye to Papa. I've seen the video of the funeral and it's something else--- full of love, grief, and wonderful tributes to Papa. Hundreds of people gathered to pay their respects.
Another fast-forward--- April 12th was the day the kids and I'd travel to Ghana. The night before, my son and his wife (and baby) came to help me prepare for the trip. Kanaho did my nails and helped by bathing the kids. Tyler kept us company and we had a really good time. Kanaho and I loaded up the car and chose jewelry for travel day. :) FINALLY, after a couple of months of preparing, we were going to go!
We got off the next day at the right time, arrived in Portland a few hours before the flight, and visited with our friends there. The couple took us to the airport at about 4 PM. They were a huge help to me with the kids and with checking the luggage through. Tyler's family came to the airport to surprise us and to say "good-bye". :)
We said our good-byes and went through security... went to the bathroom, bought milk and water, and went to our gate. How EXCITED we all were--- Kathryn couldn't wait to see her daddy (she'd missed him terribly), the boys couldn't wait to see Ghana, and I couldn't wait for both!
When we arrived at the gate, there was a long line at the desk and people sitting everywhere. No chairs were available. This seemed strange to me. I thought "Hmmm. Maybe I'd better get in line to see what's going on." So, the kids and I lined up and a girl behind us said the flight was being delayed due to mechanical failure in a different state---and she said we'd probably miss our connecting flight to Ghana. My heart sank. WHAT would we do?
After several chats with STephen and waiting in line for a long time we received the bad news that we'd not get out to Washington til about 8:30 PM ... and our flight to Ghana would leave there at 10:44 PM. The man at the desk said we'd not make it. He had us sit down for a bit while he worked out what he could for us. The best he could come up with was that we'd fly to DC and TRY to catch our plane. If we didn't make it, we'd be rerouted to NYC the next morning and spend NINE HOURS in that airport before flying out in the late aftenroon with another airline.
Well, we took the flight to DC and I vomitted like crazy. It was all I could do to take care of the kids. When we landed in DC , I was sick, weak and dehydrated, yet we had to "hoof it" to get to our next flight. We had LITTLE TIME before take off--- 30 minutes. Teh flight attendant requested help for me and the kids.
A man met us at the door and took us inside the airport--- then, turned us over to a man whom I believe is a native of somewhere in Africa. That man, Matthias, met us with a wheelchair and piled our carry-on's on it. He disappeared into a doorway and came back about three minutes later. I was going crazy worrying about losing even a second, let alone minutes. He came out and we RAN through the airport, because the TRAIN WAS DOWN. Oh, could this possibly get worse?! It was 10:15 at night and we were RUNNING through this airport with little kids and a bunch of bags. It felt like we ran for eternity. We went through four elevators, two people mover walkways, and on a bus type thing... at times I couldn't even catch my breath and felt parched. So dehydrated! We FINALLY reached the gate and were met by a man with a cold affect. He told me "It's gone. Customer courtesy care at gate such and such will help you." I asked him to PLEASE have mercy --- I'm traveling with three children and I've been so sick. I could see the plane was still AT THE GATE. He very coldly said "I can call a parimedic for you." I told him to please not be sarcastic and to show a bit of kindness. He was very condescending and said "I offered to get a paramedic for you." I don't even want to continue to write about this--- he was just so unfeeling and UNhelpful.
We went to the desk for help. Another passenger who'd been stranded advocated for me -- she requested I be put in teh same hotel so she could help me with my kids. The workers at the desk didn't want to help me, as they wanted to close the desk so the next incoming flight wouldn't "stick them" there longer than they wanted to be there. They wanted me to go to ANOTHER terminal with my kids to get help there. This was LATE at night. We were exhausted. We were hungry. I'd only had a sandwich at 1 PM and the kids ate Happy Meals at 3 PM. :-( The other traveler fed my kids little crackers or whatever she had in her bag. A NICE lady with twins at home offered to stay late and HELP US get arrangements. She had empathy. Her co-workers argued with her in front of me, not wanting her to help me. I couldn't believe it. I looked one lady in the eyes and told her to HAVE MERCY, and that if she'd stop talking to the lady who was helping me then she could finish sooner and they could all get out of there. The "nice lady" helped me and I thanked her profusely. Off to baggage claim we went, with the other traveler, to try and claim ALL EIGHT HEAVY CHECKED BAGS AND OUR CARSEAT (which were supposed to be on their way to Ghana with us at that time). I was sooooooo discouraged.
You know that really overtired feeling--- sick and washed out? Well, that's how I felt as we went to the baggage claim office to request that my bags be sent out onto the belt for pick-up. The other traveler once again advocated for me and made the request. The workers said it could take up to an HOUR to get the bags. It was alreadry about midnight. My helper said that she was very sorry, but she didn't know that she could stay that late to help me, as she would have an early morning flight. I was disheartened as I didn't know how in the world I could manage three kids, a stroller, a car seat, several carry-on's, my purse, the diaper bag AND eight checked bags (all close to 50 pounds) without help. Yet, I totally understood and appreciated all of the kindness she'd bestowed upon us. I still consider her one of the "angels" that helped us manage during a very difficult time.
I'd not brought warm outerwear for any of us, because we were going to hot, sunny Ghana. I'd not expected a delay in chilly DC. So, we got a porter and went outside to meet the airport shuttle--- and it was COLD. The kind lady let the boys wrap up in her heavy coat for a bit, and when they were warm, she gave it to me to use. She insisted I get into the van with the kids and she helped the driver load all of our bags into the van. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for her help. I was so exhausted and I didn't have any steam left.
We got to the hotel at 1:30 AM. She and I checked in. I thanked her again, wished her the same type of help she'd given me, and we said our good-bye. She gave me four $2.00 bills to use in the morning for porter tips.
The kids and I had to sit in the lobby for what seemed like forever while our driver had to settle an issue involving a loud truck parked under some hotel room windows. I wondered why that was more important than helping a lady with three exhausted kids to their room. Ha! Finally, he came back and helped us get our heavy load sorted out. Some went into a meeting room for storage and what we really needed went up to the room.
Meanwhile, I'd asked Stephen to call his family's friend in DC to see if he could help in any way. He was calling me, but I was too exhausted to talk. I put the kids to bed and they were asleep within minutes. I finally laid down at 2 AM, after trying to get everything ready for our 4 AM wake-up and rush to the airport to be there by 5 AM to catch our flight at 7 AM. We'd have to check all of our bags through AGAIN.
By 2:30 AM I couldn't sleep and was so stressed and sick that I texted Stephen in Ghana to call me. I told him that there was no way I could get up in a couple of hours and check those heavy bags in, and then spend nine hours in New York with the kids. I asked if he'd mind if I called United to request the next flight out to Ghana two nights later. It was disappointing for all of us, but I just could NOT continue at that time.
I couldn't get the toll free number for United to work from the hotel phone. I called the front desk about 4-5 times and no success. The desk guy told me to come and use his cell phone. I told him I couldn't leave my three kids sleeping alone to do that. Frustrated, I made yet another ROAM CHARGE call from my cell phone and was on the phone for 22 minutes with United. The lady graciously changed our flight to the Thursday night one--- April 14.
I rested some more and before I knew it, it was time for the kids to wake up and eat. I was way too tired to take them to the continental breakfast, but we had not had meals of any sort since the afternoon before. I bathed, dressed and took them downstairs in PJ's. A NICE mom of twins (another "angel") offered to help me fill a server's tray with food and drinks, and then carry it to our room for us. Oh, how thankful I was to have her help. God kept bringing these helpers along--- I pray He blesses them all for their help!
I couldn't eat. I hadn't been able to eat much due to the stress of managing alone for the past two weeks, as well as the stress of the delay. The kids ate and it was good to know they had had healthy food.
We didn't know where we'd stay for the coming night and check-out time was at noon. Stephen's brother had told him that the airline should put us up again and pay for meals. I mentioned to teh front desk worker that we'd like to stay another night if the airline would cover it. (They'd have to... $399 per night in DC!) She called them and they told her I'd have to come to the airport to talk to them. Yeah, right--- with the kids and all the bags? And, with a shuttle?
Meanwhile, Stephen's family's friend tried his best to come and get us. He finally showed up at 1:30 PM to take us to his home in Alexandra, VA. The guy had to leave work to get us and drive us 45 min. IN HIS WORK DELIVERY TRUCK to his home. It was so nice of him to do that. The boys had to ride ON THE FLOOR in front of my feet and the baby's carseat was between the guy and myself. It was an interesting ride--- with a stranger--- to an unfamiliar place. My husband assured me the man was a good person, a fellow Ghanaian and friend of the family.
He dropped us off at his tall brick home, and he put our heavy bags in his garage. He showed us the playroom and our bedroom, and off to work he went. A lady was in the kitchen. Was she his wife? Sister? She didn't speak much English. I had no idea who anyone was. The kids made themselves right at home and enjoyed the play room. We were all sooooo soooo hungry. I dug in my luggage to look through the American food I'd packed to cook in Ghana for my kids. I found spaghetti. I cooked that --- and we ate it plain. No butter. No sauce. No meat. I could hardly eat due to the stress, but the kids ate.
We spent the day there--- and I was in frequent phone contact with my mother and husband. And, texts with my sister. Everyone was worried.
By 8 PM I was so tired and wanted to just take the kids to bed. Our host had gone out for tacos, milk and OJ for us but it'd been a couple of hours and I just couldn't wait any longer. Just as we were heading to bed, a flurry of activity and noise came into the house. The man's wife (I didn't know who she was at the time) had come home with their two and four year old daughters. Their oldest daughter had more energy than any other kid I'd ever met. My kids gravitated toward her like magnets! I thought "Oh now, we'll never get to bed now." Ha! Their mom was so kind--- she cooked rice, fried plantain and little sausages and shared with us. Oh, how good it was to have HOT FOOD. I'm grateful, still. :0) My kids ate and ate, and it did my heart good to see them eat.
Off to bed we went, with food in bellies and a night-time sleep aid in me. (I HAD TO SLEEP!) We piled into one big bed with one pillow and I was glad we'd brought along the kids' pillow pets! :) We slept very well, thank the Lord!
Morning came and the day ahead seemed long, but the time went pretty quickly. The wife was home with us and I was happy to have her company. She helped us wash laundry (I couldn't figure out how to use her fancy front load machines! ha!) She gave me things to take to her mom and sister in Ghana for her. I was glad to help, because she'd welcomed strangers (us) into her home when she was tired and pregnant. I know it wasn't easy for her to entertain people at a moment's notice like that. I hope she knows how grateful Stephen and I are to her and her husband. The boys did school work and played, and Kathryn ran around the large home. Before we knew it, our host was home from work and ready to take us to the airport again. FINALLY, we'd fly to Ghana and be with Daddy--- I so wanted to see my husband.
Our host helped us check our bags. I have to add a lil' bit of a racism experience at this point. In Maine, it doesn't happen much to Caucasians, but when it happened to me in DC--- I empathized with my husband for his "standing out" in our area on a daily basis. When I climbed out of our host's white SUV and went around to close the door my kids had left open on the other side, an 20'something African American man who was mouthing off and trying to impress a young woman he was talking to said, loudly, "Now, THERE is a lady. Even her car is white." I ignored him, as I knew he was showing off for the girl. Besides, I was on my way to Ghana... finally, and that's all I cared about at that moment! Ha!
When arriving at the check-in counter---much to my surprise--- MATTHIAS appeared. He's the older gentleman who stayed after work for an hour that night we missed our flight to help us. How nice it was to see him, "Angel #1". :) He came over and said "hello".
Once the bags were checked, our host walked us as far as he could, and then he couldn't continue into the security area. I thanked him again, shook his hand, and we said "good-bye".
Getting to our gate was a process, but things went off without a problem. The bus (it's some sort of an inter-airport shuttle thing) driver recognized us from the other day and gave us a cheery "hello". He pointed us in the direction of a gift shop and a Wendy's and off we went to buy Dramamine (which did the trick next flight) and supper. The kids happily ate their fast food and I tried to eat a few bites of a potato. Still too stressed to eat much...
How NICE it was to find the gate area filled with mostly Ghanaians--- who are some of the most hospitable, respectful people in the world. We were met with smiles and small talk, and I felt comfortable and that we were somewhere "familiar" with more people from my husband's culture.
It didn't take long before the boarding call occured. I didn't realize that people were assigned seating groups, so I jumped right up and was first in line with my kids. The gate worker very rudely asked me what my seat assignment is. I looked at the ticket and gave her my seat number. That was NOT what she was asking for and she made no effort to be kind about the misunderstanding. Once a Ghanaian man in line behind me pointed out that we were in seating priority number four and I told the worker that, she VERY unkindly told me I was blocking the way and to move. I couldn't. People were surrounding us on every side, and I had no where to go with my stoller, three kids and carry-on bags. We stood there while others around us commented on how rude the worker was to me.
Eventually, we boarded the plane and I texted my husband, sister, daughter, son and daughter-in-law that we were ON THE PLANE. They were all so glad and relieved. Off we went---- and the kids slept wonderfully all night long. My kids were SO GOOD and adapted to every single change with ease. I'm thankful for that.
Oh, what a time we'd had! And, after investing so much in this trip---- and having such high hopes for our time in Ghana--- it was extremely disappointed to endure these hardships, including losing two precious days of our short time with family in Ghana. I have to admit, two weeks later, I am still deeply disappointed and I still feel cheated. It's taking a long time for me to process everything. I want to find all of the successess and the blessings--- as I'm sure there are many. That's partly why I'm writing to share this account.
It's too much to write about in one day, but overall, things went well in Ghana. We had some hardships like no running water for our entire stay (the well had run dry, had to be dug deeper, and worked just after we left), catching APOLLO (conjunctivitis of some sort), not being able to catch up on my rest, and enduring the heat (90's) and humidity.
The children LOVED their time in Ghana and were so happy to play with cousins. They enjoyed chasing goats and chickens. :) They played outside in the warm rain. They went to the zoo and ate delicious pizza several times. They experienced children's church in another culture and language. They really, really had a blast, and they still talk about it.
Stephen's sister was so good to us--- she installed an air conditioner in our bedroom. How can I thank her enough for that generosity? It made things so much more comfortable. Even my Ghanaian born and raised husband was finding it hard to tolerate the heat.
Oh, Grandma LOVED her time with the kids. She bathed them, doctored Sammy's hurt knee, went shopping for sandals ("slippers" as Ghanaians call them) for the kids.... she couldn't speak the same language but so enjoyed trying to communicate with them. She'd talk to them in TWI, my husband's first language, and they didn't know what she was saying--- but it was so sweet to see the interaction between them and their dear grandmother.
I love my mother-in-law so much. She's a very kind, good Christian woman. We exchanged many hugs during my stay, and it meant the world to me to be met with open arms. I teased my husband that his mom is also a hugger. She and I are alike in many ways and it's funny. But, best of all, we both love Stephen! :0) We are hoping that she can come and visit us soon. It'd take some good planning and prayer, as it's difficult for Ghanaians to get a tourist visa to the U.S. I'd be honored to host my mother-in-law in my home and look forward to all of the little things we can do for her while she's here.
It was nice to see my husband reunited with all of his siblings for the first time in many years. They're great people---each and every one of them. I really enjoyed meeting the ones I'd not met before, and seeing again the ones I had. The kids had so many aunties around that they didn't know who was who. :0)
It was also wonderful to meet the nieces and nephews who'd been born since my last trip to Ghana--- eight years ago. I may be biased, but I think they're all super special kids. :) I miss them!! And, it was meaningful to see old friends again.
While there, we were able to view my husband's land. Someday, we hope to build a family home there for our visits to Ghana, and for my mother-in-law if she'd like to live there.
One of the things during our trip that impacted me the most, and still does, was the visit to my father-in-law's and mother-in-law's home village, Mamaso. The way that I can explain how I feel about this place is that it's kind of like the scene in THE LION, THE WITCH, AND THE WARDROBE when the kids enter from the wardrobe into a secret, hidden land. I feel like going to Mamaso is like going "into the bush" to a forgotten place and a hiden people. I cannot get the faces and living conditions out of my mind and heart.
Stephen's dad spent most of his time in later years in Mamaso, his home. It was dear to him. The kids would prod at him to come into the city (where he also had a home) where life was easier, but he was just happy back at "home" in the village.
It meant a lot to me to take my kids to Papa's village. To Papa's house. To play in Papa's courtyard where he used to sit and visit with others. I know it'd mean the world to him to know that his grandkids from the U.S. came to his place, met his friends and family, and saw what meant so much to him--- his village.
It was painful to stop at his grave along the road leading to the village. We placed flowers there and said "good-bye". It hurt. That was not the way I'd wanted my kids to meet their grandpa, the man that one of our twins got his name from. Oh, how hard it was to think about how he was buried there and we were just too late.... we brought our kids too late. :( But, what could we have done? I had given birth to three babies in 3 1/2 years and then got cancer. We just didn't have the money to go, and the right timing hadn't worked out when he was alive.
It somehow gives me comfort to know that we honored Papa by going to his village, even if we were late. He wasn't there to proudly introduce his grandkids to his friends and family, and to show us around, but we still went--- and we met them--- and we saw what was special to him. We touched his cocoa beans that were laying drying in the sun. (He was a cocoa farmer.) We met his elderly brother and so many relatives from his home. We went to see Papa--- we went to say "good-bye". And, the children ran around and played in front of his room. Papa, we came. Papa, we love you. Papa, we miss you. :-(
While in Mamaso, we also met several of Stephen's mom's relatives. We met four surviving elderly siblings--- two sisters and two brothers. I am still "crying inside" about their living conditions. I can't get out of my mind how thin one uncle is--- skin and bones, and so old. He and his wife, both worn from difficult lives without conveniences, were sitting outside while their evening meal cooked in a small pot over a fire. I can't explain it, but their affects were flat--- they looked worn from life. Oh, how I wish I had the means to make their last years more comfortable for them.
Another uncle lives in a very run down home with live animals in little partitions connected to the home. The conditions are so bad and dirty. He's an educated man--- a school teacher in the village---but life is hard there and pay is little. It was an honor to meet him--- I know his daughter who is a lovely young woman. He made the sacrafice of sending her to live with family in the city when she was young so she could have a better life.
I met Aunt Alice--- worn from a hard life, but so full of humor. She has a special place in my heart. And, I met another aunt who was tall and friendly. She seemed to be the most physically strong of the surviving siblings.
We met many cousins, including a set of six year old twin girls. Well, my twin boys never knew they had distant twin cousins in a far-away village in Africa! :)
The kids had quite a following in the village--- a whole bunch of children. My kids took balloons and lollipops to hand out to the children there. What a precious sight that was!
We saw hardworking people making palm oil in heavy, large kettles in very poor working conditions. My husband had spent a week in the village at the time of the funeral and was disheartened to see the dangerous conditions surrounding the palm oil business. He was so worried that the barefoot workers would slip on the oil covered ground and slide under the hot pots -- getting burned by the fires. He gave a cousin money to buy three pairs of shoes for the workers.
I think that the sights, people and smells of Mamaso are forever etched in my mind. I ask God "WHAT can I do for the people in Mamaso? What do I have to offer? I have no money. I don't have any idea what a stay-at-home mom with an associates degree and no financial excess can do. " But, I WANT to help. I am praying for God to show me HOW I can help. I want to go back there. And, I don't want to go empty handed. I want to go with clothing, vitamins, and other necessities such as SOAP and TOILET PAPER. I would LOVE to be able to have a well drilled in a central location for Stephen's four elderly aunts and uncles (his mom's siblings). I can't stand to think of how far they may have to walk to get water. And, even worse...they have to walk to use the toilet "in the bush". I wish I could provide camp toilets and chemicals, or better yet, have regular flushes installed. These dear people have NEVER known what it's like to have some of the small conveniences that we take for granted--- such as the ease of washing our hands at the sink. I would like to conduct a children's "good news" type gathering with my husband and listen to him teach them about the love of Jesus in his language. I would like these people to know that they have HOPE in God--- and that life on earth may be hard, but there is peace and rest in Jesus, and that the comforts of heaven are theirs to claim.
Often, as I go about my busy work in the home with all of the luxuries I have in my lower middle class home (which is more than adequate for me) , my thoughts drift back to Mamaso--- I "see" the people sitting outside in the dark with only the light of their wood or charcoal fires--- cooling off in the evening air after a long, hot day, before turning in for the night to get up and surviving admist difficult living conditions--- hoping for better days. My prayers are with them.
So, that's my account of our trip to Ghana. It was filled with challenges and emotion. I've left out a lot of things--- like going from church to church with the family (dressed in matching fabric which meant "We've lost our mother or father and it's left a vacuum inside of us.") to say "thank you" to each congregation for their help and support for the funeral. And, the one week funeral celebration that we attended in Mamaso--- a heartbreaking situation--- a young woman had lost her dad and then her mom, and she had a newborn baby. She didn't have the financial means for an elaborate funeral, and she was doing the best she could to honor her mom. I hugged her as tears ran down her face. I could share and share and share...
... a piece of each of us remains in Ghana as we go about our routines here at home.
Another 3 Months Check-up
On Monday, May 9th, I had appointments with oncology and radiation oncology--- routine check-ups.
My bloodwork looked good. The white cell count was up from the last time--- 4.6, almost normal (4.8).
No new lumps or bumps. :)
I feel I can breathe for another three months til the next check.
It was good to get far away--- to Ghana-- and forget cancer for a while. I guess I associate life here with all that I've been through during the past year. As if the cancer is HERE and not somewhere else. Crazy emotional logic--- thankfully I know better. ;-) It WAS good to get away from all of the medical stuff, though... well, almost. We did catch a contagious eye infection called APOLLO during the last few days in Ghana. It seemed a lot like "pink eye". Over the counter antibiotic eye ointment from a local pharmacy did the trick.
Eight months after the last surgery I'm now experiencing quite a bit of discomfort and pain when I make reaching or stretching motions with my arm. I guess it must be that I'm disturbing scar tissue when I move.
Something to ask the surgeon at July's appointment...
My hair is still growing, and still short, but people seem to like it this way. I'm still not liking it, but it is encouraging that others think it looks nice.
I'm surprised by how slowly hair grows back after loss--- but, I guess it makes sense--- hair only grows 1/4" per month. There's no sense in complaining--- at least I HAVE hair now, right? :) It's all a matter of perspective.
I want to close this health update entry and write about the trip.
My bloodwork looked good. The white cell count was up from the last time--- 4.6, almost normal (4.8).
No new lumps or bumps. :)
I feel I can breathe for another three months til the next check.
It was good to get far away--- to Ghana-- and forget cancer for a while. I guess I associate life here with all that I've been through during the past year. As if the cancer is HERE and not somewhere else. Crazy emotional logic--- thankfully I know better. ;-) It WAS good to get away from all of the medical stuff, though... well, almost. We did catch a contagious eye infection called APOLLO during the last few days in Ghana. It seemed a lot like "pink eye". Over the counter antibiotic eye ointment from a local pharmacy did the trick.
Eight months after the last surgery I'm now experiencing quite a bit of discomfort and pain when I make reaching or stretching motions with my arm. I guess it must be that I'm disturbing scar tissue when I move.
Something to ask the surgeon at July's appointment...
My hair is still growing, and still short, but people seem to like it this way. I'm still not liking it, but it is encouraging that others think it looks nice.
I'm surprised by how slowly hair grows back after loss--- but, I guess it makes sense--- hair only grows 1/4" per month. There's no sense in complaining--- at least I HAVE hair now, right? :) It's all a matter of perspective.
I want to close this health update entry and write about the trip.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Another Birthday!
Just celebrated my 42nd birthday yesterday and I must say... it's GOOD to be alive for another year! :) I am now a ONE YEAR SURVIVOR! :) It was a GREAT birthday!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
First Post-cancer Mammogram---CHECK!
Yesterday was "the day" --- it was time for my first post-cancer mammogram. Stephen and Kathryn came with me to the hospital. It was very comforting to have my husband there. :-)
The diagnostic mammogram wasn't too bad. I was expecting it to be very painful, but it was tolerable. After the images were taken, I was led to a changing room where I'd sit and wait for results. The technician called Stephen and Kathryn to come and sit with me.
We waited for quite a while, and of course, that was a bit nervewrecking. I played over in my head different things that could either ease my mind or stress me out--- i.e. "I'm on Tamoxifen, so that offers protection against breast cancer.", "If they've found it's come back, I'll ask for a mastectomy right away!", "If they've found something, I'm going to insist they don't address it until I've returned from Africa."
Finally, the radiation doctor was able to read my images! The technician came back and said that things "look good", but they wanted me to hang out there for a while and have an ultrasound done. Of course, that was a bit scary. She explained that my scar tissue has changed my breast so they needed to do measurements by ultrasound to have a NEW baseline mammogram to compare to in the future. I thought "Okay. That makes sense." It relieved some anxiety. She also said that scar tissue can get smaller, but NOT bigger. So, in the future, if my scar tissue looked bigger in mammogram images, it could indicate a problem (i.e. tumor?)
To get to the ultrasound room we had to walk by the office of the surgeon who gave us the news of my cancer a year ago. It was hard for both Stephen and I to see that room. He noted the wall space where my images were displayed last year and we were shown the lump. We remembered the words of the doctor- "It's concerning for cancer." It wasn't pleasant to revisit that moment.
It was also difficult to be back in the ultrasound room where I'd had an ultrasound and biopsy last March. It brought back a flood of emotion. I noticed the phone on the wall that I'd been anxiously waiting to hear ringing from last year--- my doctor (OB/GYN) was going to call at any moment and discuss my mammogram findings. I remember crying my heart out in that room and looking desperately at my husband for reassurance. So, it was not fun to be in there yesterday. However, strangely, I felt kind of grateful to be one year out from my diagnosis--- to be back there with so much horror behind me--- in the past. It's almost like I laid in there and my life went back to March 2010 and then fast-forwarded to March 2011. Very odd!
The ultrasound technician told me that she was going to take a look at the breast (on screen). I can't remember what she said, but the reason she gave for the ultrasound made me feel a bit anxious again. It wasn't the same reason that the technician had given.
I watched the screen as she conducted the test and at times thought I shouldn't look. I could see an odd shape and it reminded me of the odd shape of my tumor when we viewed the mammogram readings last year. I thought "Oh no, not again!" It was hard to wait for the technician to finish and give me information. She completed her work and said she'd be back to let me know if "they" need more images.
THAT made me think that she'd found something and they'd need a closer look. SCARY!
After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably three or four minutes, she returned and said the "good news is that there's nothing bad" (that's all I needed to hear!) and that what the test showed was some fluid that had collected in my breast (from surgery, I assume). I'll be seeing my surgeon next week and will discuss it with him.
They want me to come back in six months for another diagnostic mammogram as well as an ultrasound. That affects me in two ways:
1. It's reassuring that they're keeping a good eye on things
2. It makes me wonder if they saw something suspicious that they want to keep an eye on
I'm sure the first one is the case--- my scar tissue is something that may change in coming months and they'll get a better look in six months? They'd have told me if there had been anything concerning?
Other ladies who've had breast cancer have told me that they were concerned with their scar tissue at the first mammograms post-cancer, too.
I'm tempted to feel like having this "clear" mammogram behind me gives me permission to live my life with confidence for the next six months. But, I know that we have to take life one day at a time. God tells us not to worry about tomorrow...
The diagnostic mammogram wasn't too bad. I was expecting it to be very painful, but it was tolerable. After the images were taken, I was led to a changing room where I'd sit and wait for results. The technician called Stephen and Kathryn to come and sit with me.
We waited for quite a while, and of course, that was a bit nervewrecking. I played over in my head different things that could either ease my mind or stress me out--- i.e. "I'm on Tamoxifen, so that offers protection against breast cancer.", "If they've found it's come back, I'll ask for a mastectomy right away!", "If they've found something, I'm going to insist they don't address it until I've returned from Africa."
Finally, the radiation doctor was able to read my images! The technician came back and said that things "look good", but they wanted me to hang out there for a while and have an ultrasound done. Of course, that was a bit scary. She explained that my scar tissue has changed my breast so they needed to do measurements by ultrasound to have a NEW baseline mammogram to compare to in the future. I thought "Okay. That makes sense." It relieved some anxiety. She also said that scar tissue can get smaller, but NOT bigger. So, in the future, if my scar tissue looked bigger in mammogram images, it could indicate a problem (i.e. tumor?)
To get to the ultrasound room we had to walk by the office of the surgeon who gave us the news of my cancer a year ago. It was hard for both Stephen and I to see that room. He noted the wall space where my images were displayed last year and we were shown the lump. We remembered the words of the doctor- "It's concerning for cancer." It wasn't pleasant to revisit that moment.
It was also difficult to be back in the ultrasound room where I'd had an ultrasound and biopsy last March. It brought back a flood of emotion. I noticed the phone on the wall that I'd been anxiously waiting to hear ringing from last year--- my doctor (OB/GYN) was going to call at any moment and discuss my mammogram findings. I remember crying my heart out in that room and looking desperately at my husband for reassurance. So, it was not fun to be in there yesterday. However, strangely, I felt kind of grateful to be one year out from my diagnosis--- to be back there with so much horror behind me--- in the past. It's almost like I laid in there and my life went back to March 2010 and then fast-forwarded to March 2011. Very odd!
The ultrasound technician told me that she was going to take a look at the breast (on screen). I can't remember what she said, but the reason she gave for the ultrasound made me feel a bit anxious again. It wasn't the same reason that the technician had given.
I watched the screen as she conducted the test and at times thought I shouldn't look. I could see an odd shape and it reminded me of the odd shape of my tumor when we viewed the mammogram readings last year. I thought "Oh no, not again!" It was hard to wait for the technician to finish and give me information. She completed her work and said she'd be back to let me know if "they" need more images.
THAT made me think that she'd found something and they'd need a closer look. SCARY!
After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably three or four minutes, she returned and said the "good news is that there's nothing bad" (that's all I needed to hear!) and that what the test showed was some fluid that had collected in my breast (from surgery, I assume). I'll be seeing my surgeon next week and will discuss it with him.
They want me to come back in six months for another diagnostic mammogram as well as an ultrasound. That affects me in two ways:
1. It's reassuring that they're keeping a good eye on things
2. It makes me wonder if they saw something suspicious that they want to keep an eye on
I'm sure the first one is the case--- my scar tissue is something that may change in coming months and they'll get a better look in six months? They'd have told me if there had been anything concerning?
Other ladies who've had breast cancer have told me that they were concerned with their scar tissue at the first mammograms post-cancer, too.
I'm tempted to feel like having this "clear" mammogram behind me gives me permission to live my life with confidence for the next six months. But, I know that we have to take life one day at a time. God tells us not to worry about tomorrow...
Friday, March 4, 2011
A Lil' Update
Two months post-radiation and seven months post-chemo--- still quite fatigued and trying to adjust to that aspect of my "new normal". I usually do quite well in the mornings, but by afternoon I'm worn out. Hoping this improves with time.
White cell counts were still a bit low when tested on Valentine's Day, but neutrophils were getting back into the normal range. That's what the doctor was concerned with.
My hair is still growing at a slow, steady pace. I continue to have a love-hate relationship with my hair at this stage. It's quite short and I'm just not used to it. So many people have commented that they love my hair and that I should keep it this way. That is encouraging, but I guess I'm looking to have it more like it used to be--- a sense of normal.
The date for my first mammogram since the diagnostic one (my first one ever) is March 14th. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I'm getting nervous about it. I guess it just feels like the mammogram I had last year "caused" my cancer somehow... it's what brought it to our attention. In all actuality, it saved my life. If it weren't for that test, my cancer would be growing and spreading without my knowledge. Yet, that mammogram was what marked the beginning of a year of upheavel in my life.
I'd read that some women diagnosed with breast cancer blame their doctors, or some other healthcare provider, for their cancer. Now, logically, we know they didn't cause it. However, we associate the people involved with the diagnosis with the nightmare that breast cancer brings to our lives. So, with all that in mind, I am HOPING that the woman who did my mammogram (as well as the additonal pictures) is NOT the person who will run my test this time around. I DO associate her with my cancer. She was nice, for sure, but it's just a strange dynamic of this experience... I guess that seeing her again would cause me to relive that awful day when she clued me in that something wasn't quite right with my "pictures".
I've also read that some women cannot sleep the night before their mammograms... I hope this isn't the case for me. I hope that I can find a way to approach this appointment without fear and anxiety. I'm so afraid that the doctors will find another lump. This is a real catch 22--- it would be totally nuts to not get a mammogram (given that early detection saves lives), but I wish I didn't have to do this again so soon.
At the same time, I cannot believe it's been a FULL YEAR... since "D" day. DIAGNOSIS DAY.
White cell counts were still a bit low when tested on Valentine's Day, but neutrophils were getting back into the normal range. That's what the doctor was concerned with.
My hair is still growing at a slow, steady pace. I continue to have a love-hate relationship with my hair at this stage. It's quite short and I'm just not used to it. So many people have commented that they love my hair and that I should keep it this way. That is encouraging, but I guess I'm looking to have it more like it used to be--- a sense of normal.
The date for my first mammogram since the diagnostic one (my first one ever) is March 14th. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I'm getting nervous about it. I guess it just feels like the mammogram I had last year "caused" my cancer somehow... it's what brought it to our attention. In all actuality, it saved my life. If it weren't for that test, my cancer would be growing and spreading without my knowledge. Yet, that mammogram was what marked the beginning of a year of upheavel in my life.
I'd read that some women diagnosed with breast cancer blame their doctors, or some other healthcare provider, for their cancer. Now, logically, we know they didn't cause it. However, we associate the people involved with the diagnosis with the nightmare that breast cancer brings to our lives. So, with all that in mind, I am HOPING that the woman who did my mammogram (as well as the additonal pictures) is NOT the person who will run my test this time around. I DO associate her with my cancer. She was nice, for sure, but it's just a strange dynamic of this experience... I guess that seeing her again would cause me to relive that awful day when she clued me in that something wasn't quite right with my "pictures".
I've also read that some women cannot sleep the night before their mammograms... I hope this isn't the case for me. I hope that I can find a way to approach this appointment without fear and anxiety. I'm so afraid that the doctors will find another lump. This is a real catch 22--- it would be totally nuts to not get a mammogram (given that early detection saves lives), but I wish I didn't have to do this again so soon.
At the same time, I cannot believe it's been a FULL YEAR... since "D" day. DIAGNOSIS DAY.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
It's not a done deal!
I wonder how many of my family and friends were under the same impression that I was--- that once treatment ended, I'd be well and on my way to normal again.
Once treatment ended on Dec. 30th, I was on a mission to take my life back. For a couple of weeks I went full speed--- weeded out things at home, cleaned and took my life back.
Well, it didn't take long for my newfound energy (which had to have been adreneline) to fizzle out. It has been a HARD reality to accept the fact that I am IN RECOVERY MODE.
I am struggling to accept my limitations and that I must live my life differently for the time being. This makes me feel like I'm still a cancer patient. And, I guess I am one.
I'm learning that morning is when I have the most energy and will be able to concentrate the best. There are a few hours in which I can accomplish the most that I will for the entire day. I have to pick and choose what's going to be my most important priority at the start of each day.
This is a HARD restraint for someone who is task and goal oriented. I have an ongoing, never-ending "to do" list that I create. Being industrious makes me feel normal. I don't know how to just SIT and let time pass. Yet, I find myself dragging my feet behind me if I can't rest, rest, rest...
...and, with such busy young children, I can't "just rest" when my body is begging for that. So, I feel like I'm in a battle with myself at the moment. :) It's an adjustment period.
Many other breast cancer survivors have told me that it takes about a year to recover. My oncologist recently told me it can take up to 18 months.
If I can give myself permission to take life slowly, will the other people in my life understand this is necessary? Will they support me during a time of limitations? Will they lessen their expectations? I NEED them to be understanding.
It was very surprising to learn at my Jan. 24th oncology check-up that my white cell count was lower that day than it had been three months earlier (when I was only three months post chemo). I suppose radiation gave my immune system a beating.
What am I trying to say today with this blog entry? It's plain and simple. Treatment is over, but my recovery is not. I am asking family and friends to allow me to walk slowly through life for a while... and, I'm asking myself permission to do it.
Once treatment ended on Dec. 30th, I was on a mission to take my life back. For a couple of weeks I went full speed--- weeded out things at home, cleaned and took my life back.
Well, it didn't take long for my newfound energy (which had to have been adreneline) to fizzle out. It has been a HARD reality to accept the fact that I am IN RECOVERY MODE.
I am struggling to accept my limitations and that I must live my life differently for the time being. This makes me feel like I'm still a cancer patient. And, I guess I am one.
I'm learning that morning is when I have the most energy and will be able to concentrate the best. There are a few hours in which I can accomplish the most that I will for the entire day. I have to pick and choose what's going to be my most important priority at the start of each day.
This is a HARD restraint for someone who is task and goal oriented. I have an ongoing, never-ending "to do" list that I create. Being industrious makes me feel normal. I don't know how to just SIT and let time pass. Yet, I find myself dragging my feet behind me if I can't rest, rest, rest...
...and, with such busy young children, I can't "just rest" when my body is begging for that. So, I feel like I'm in a battle with myself at the moment. :) It's an adjustment period.
Many other breast cancer survivors have told me that it takes about a year to recover. My oncologist recently told me it can take up to 18 months.
If I can give myself permission to take life slowly, will the other people in my life understand this is necessary? Will they support me during a time of limitations? Will they lessen their expectations? I NEED them to be understanding.
It was very surprising to learn at my Jan. 24th oncology check-up that my white cell count was lower that day than it had been three months earlier (when I was only three months post chemo). I suppose radiation gave my immune system a beating.
What am I trying to say today with this blog entry? It's plain and simple. Treatment is over, but my recovery is not. I am asking family and friends to allow me to walk slowly through life for a while... and, I'm asking myself permission to do it.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Three Weeks After Radiation
Three weeks after radiation treatments came to an end...
I'm feeling stronger as the days go by-- just get tired easily by mid-afternoon. It seems like it's been so much longer than three weeks since treatment ended.
My hair is growing, but ever so slowly. Several times per day I find myself reaching to the back of my neck to feel for my hair, but of course, it's not quite there yet.
It's been so crazy since we were starting to "wrap up cancer"--- Stephen's Dad died, then my dad was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia...
...my sister and her husband have been in Maine for about a week to assist my parents with Dad's care since his early release from the hospital last weekend. His health condition is not good. Due to congestive heart failure, he is weak and unable to be very mobile. He spends most of his days bundled up on the couch, and understandably, he's discouraged. His care is too much for Mom, so we're just not sure what's going to take place in the coming weeks and months.
Meanwhile, we're trying to make a decision within the next few days about whether or not the children and I should travel to Ghana in late March and April with Stephen for his father's funeral. He wasn't wanting to take us, because he knows that he is going to be very busy with funeral related errands, and then with his responsibilities over the course of about a four day period when there will be funeral events and meetings following. He has worried about leaving us in a home in Ghana while he's away for some days in the village, because I don't know the language, etc.
I'm torn, because I know it would be incredibly hard to take the children on a long trip like that, as well as to manage without a washing machine, worry about malaria and other diseases, seeking out foods that we're used to that I can prepare for the children, trying to keep the kids from ingesting tap water, etc. The family home will be very crowded with guests---and is already full with people who live there. I don't want to be a burden to my husband's family by taking up space and needing to shop for bottled water and special food.
This is a VERY HARD decision to make. I've checked with the school and it should be okay for the kids to miss a few weeks. I've found great flight schedules (overnight so the kids can sleep) and relatively good airfare. Those are positives. I'll check with my oncologist on Monday about whether or not I should be traveling to a third world country so soon after treatment, and if I can safely get my Typhoid booster.
Another positive would be for the children to get to meet their grandmother. It's a huge, painful disappointment that they didn't get to meet their grandfather before he passed. And, there are lots of other relatives the kids could meet.
I don't like the idea of my family being so far apart for three weeks---us here, Stephen there. Yet, Kaylee's break is also at the time of our travel and the kids and I would miss seeing her if we were to go to Ghana.
Tyler and Kanaho will be in Japan during some of that time, and Kaylee will be at school. So, this causes me to worry about being on my own with the three kids in our home while my entire family is away.
Another thing I'm worried about is my father's health while I'd be away... what if something happens?
And, of course, another BIG concern is finances. Should we all go, we'll have a financial set-back, unless God provides a miracle. I guess this is where it lies--- I've been praying and asking God to make it clear to us if the kids and I should go. He knows best.
I'm feeling stronger as the days go by-- just get tired easily by mid-afternoon. It seems like it's been so much longer than three weeks since treatment ended.
My hair is growing, but ever so slowly. Several times per day I find myself reaching to the back of my neck to feel for my hair, but of course, it's not quite there yet.
It's been so crazy since we were starting to "wrap up cancer"--- Stephen's Dad died, then my dad was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia...
...my sister and her husband have been in Maine for about a week to assist my parents with Dad's care since his early release from the hospital last weekend. His health condition is not good. Due to congestive heart failure, he is weak and unable to be very mobile. He spends most of his days bundled up on the couch, and understandably, he's discouraged. His care is too much for Mom, so we're just not sure what's going to take place in the coming weeks and months.
Meanwhile, we're trying to make a decision within the next few days about whether or not the children and I should travel to Ghana in late March and April with Stephen for his father's funeral. He wasn't wanting to take us, because he knows that he is going to be very busy with funeral related errands, and then with his responsibilities over the course of about a four day period when there will be funeral events and meetings following. He has worried about leaving us in a home in Ghana while he's away for some days in the village, because I don't know the language, etc.
I'm torn, because I know it would be incredibly hard to take the children on a long trip like that, as well as to manage without a washing machine, worry about malaria and other diseases, seeking out foods that we're used to that I can prepare for the children, trying to keep the kids from ingesting tap water, etc. The family home will be very crowded with guests---and is already full with people who live there. I don't want to be a burden to my husband's family by taking up space and needing to shop for bottled water and special food.
This is a VERY HARD decision to make. I've checked with the school and it should be okay for the kids to miss a few weeks. I've found great flight schedules (overnight so the kids can sleep) and relatively good airfare. Those are positives. I'll check with my oncologist on Monday about whether or not I should be traveling to a third world country so soon after treatment, and if I can safely get my Typhoid booster.
Another positive would be for the children to get to meet their grandmother. It's a huge, painful disappointment that they didn't get to meet their grandfather before he passed. And, there are lots of other relatives the kids could meet.
I don't like the idea of my family being so far apart for three weeks---us here, Stephen there. Yet, Kaylee's break is also at the time of our travel and the kids and I would miss seeing her if we were to go to Ghana.
Tyler and Kanaho will be in Japan during some of that time, and Kaylee will be at school. So, this causes me to worry about being on my own with the three kids in our home while my entire family is away.
Another thing I'm worried about is my father's health while I'd be away... what if something happens?
And, of course, another BIG concern is finances. Should we all go, we'll have a financial set-back, unless God provides a miracle. I guess this is where it lies--- I've been praying and asking God to make it clear to us if the kids and I should go. He knows best.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Snow Day
It's almost mid-January now. It's amazing how quickly the days since radiation treatment ended seem to be flying by, yet during treatment they seemed to drag a bit. Interesting.
Life changes seem to continue---one thing happens, and then another. I'm reflecting back over the past several weeks as well as the past few years. It seems as though one life challenge is overcome and after a brief reprieve another one presents itself. I'm remembering the year I found out that I was expecting Kathryn... my dog of 10 years had to be put to sleep. Three days later I found out that baby number five was on its way. Then, my dad had quardruple by-pass surgery and heart valve repair the following month. Two months later, on the very day that we found out I was having a girl, my oldest child called me in complete dispair--- he'd been involved in a terrible car accident in which a pedestrian was involved. He desperately wanted me to fly to Florida to be with him, but I couldn't leave my then two year old twins to travel. I felt incredibly torn as a mom. A few more months down the road I was put on hospital bed rest in my eighth month of pregnancy. We had to reply completely on the Lord to provide childcare for the twins, because my husband could not miss work for those couple of weeks. And, it seems life has kind of continued like this ever since then, and it was the same before. And, having cancer sure was a "major" unexpected event for us, and now, of course, we've just lost my husband's father and my dad is not well in the hospital.
How do we bear up under the stresses and pressures in this world? I can honestly say that I could NOT survive challenge upon challenge, disappointment upon disappointment, and stress upon stress without my faith in God. He provides comfort, hope and a never-ending supply of mercy and grace. Without Him, what would life be like? Would there be a sense of hope? Would there be an expectation of everything just ending some day and that would be it? Live life large and it's over? Thank God, it doesn't have to be that way. Thank God, that there's a place in heaven that makes the very best things in this world seem insignificant compared to what He has for us there. And, no more cancer. No more dying. No more pain. No more broken relationships. There will be rest. There will be peace.
Kaylee heads back to college tomorrow. It's hard to believe that we're "there" already. It seems as though it's not been an entire year since she announced to us that she believed God was impressing upon her heart that she needed to take a year off from school. WOW!
The twins are feeling quite sad about her leaving, and it seems the baby has even picked up on the fact that change is coming. She's been a bit clingy to Kaylee today. It's another adjustment for our family. What's one more? Man, what a YEAR we have had.
I'm very concerned about my father's health. He's in the hospital with pneumonia, blood clots in his kidneys and congestive heart failure. It's difficult to know that he's struggling. He was always such a strong man who worked hard. I wish the Rapture would come soon--- very soon, and both of my parents would be able to experience that.
Well, we don't know what the future holds, but I do know change is coming. Kaylee's going back to school and upon graduation in May she'll get an apartment with friends. That will make two children out of the nest. :-( Stephen will travel to Ghana in late March and early April for his dad's funeral. I don't expect that the kids and I will be able to go (which I'm sad about) due to the expense of tickets, vaccines, visas, etc. I'm worried about managing on my own with the three little kids for as long as he'll be away. Tyler's family will also be traveling that month (to Japan), and Kaylee will be home for just a short amount of time during that period. I have to remember to not worry about "tomorrow" because God's got it all under control. Deep breath! :)
We're having a big snowstorm today which is kind of cool--- school was cancelled and that's enabled the boys to be home with their big sister for a full day before she leaves. A little gift from God?
Life changes seem to continue---one thing happens, and then another. I'm reflecting back over the past several weeks as well as the past few years. It seems as though one life challenge is overcome and after a brief reprieve another one presents itself. I'm remembering the year I found out that I was expecting Kathryn... my dog of 10 years had to be put to sleep. Three days later I found out that baby number five was on its way. Then, my dad had quardruple by-pass surgery and heart valve repair the following month. Two months later, on the very day that we found out I was having a girl, my oldest child called me in complete dispair--- he'd been involved in a terrible car accident in which a pedestrian was involved. He desperately wanted me to fly to Florida to be with him, but I couldn't leave my then two year old twins to travel. I felt incredibly torn as a mom. A few more months down the road I was put on hospital bed rest in my eighth month of pregnancy. We had to reply completely on the Lord to provide childcare for the twins, because my husband could not miss work for those couple of weeks. And, it seems life has kind of continued like this ever since then, and it was the same before. And, having cancer sure was a "major" unexpected event for us, and now, of course, we've just lost my husband's father and my dad is not well in the hospital.
How do we bear up under the stresses and pressures in this world? I can honestly say that I could NOT survive challenge upon challenge, disappointment upon disappointment, and stress upon stress without my faith in God. He provides comfort, hope and a never-ending supply of mercy and grace. Without Him, what would life be like? Would there be a sense of hope? Would there be an expectation of everything just ending some day and that would be it? Live life large and it's over? Thank God, it doesn't have to be that way. Thank God, that there's a place in heaven that makes the very best things in this world seem insignificant compared to what He has for us there. And, no more cancer. No more dying. No more pain. No more broken relationships. There will be rest. There will be peace.
Kaylee heads back to college tomorrow. It's hard to believe that we're "there" already. It seems as though it's not been an entire year since she announced to us that she believed God was impressing upon her heart that she needed to take a year off from school. WOW!
The twins are feeling quite sad about her leaving, and it seems the baby has even picked up on the fact that change is coming. She's been a bit clingy to Kaylee today. It's another adjustment for our family. What's one more? Man, what a YEAR we have had.
I'm very concerned about my father's health. He's in the hospital with pneumonia, blood clots in his kidneys and congestive heart failure. It's difficult to know that he's struggling. He was always such a strong man who worked hard. I wish the Rapture would come soon--- very soon, and both of my parents would be able to experience that.
Well, we don't know what the future holds, but I do know change is coming. Kaylee's going back to school and upon graduation in May she'll get an apartment with friends. That will make two children out of the nest. :-( Stephen will travel to Ghana in late March and early April for his dad's funeral. I don't expect that the kids and I will be able to go (which I'm sad about) due to the expense of tickets, vaccines, visas, etc. I'm worried about managing on my own with the three little kids for as long as he'll be away. Tyler's family will also be traveling that month (to Japan), and Kaylee will be home for just a short amount of time during that period. I have to remember to not worry about "tomorrow" because God's got it all under control. Deep breath! :)
We're having a big snowstorm today which is kind of cool--- school was cancelled and that's enabled the boys to be home with their big sister for a full day before she leaves. A little gift from God?
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