Last night I had a friend reach out to me about a new study for treating cancer that she heard on the radio. She was listening to Rick and Bubba (a very popular morning show here in Birmingham) which is ironic because I normally listen to them every morning but missed yesterday since I was home recovering. Without her reaching out to me, I would have missed out on this groundbreaking research. She told me where to find the information and I looked it up this morning. I have no idea if it is something that will help me, but I will definitely be forwarding it on to my doctor.
It got me thinking about how during the past three years of dealing with this disease, I have been GREATLY assisted by friends, the media, local news stories, co-workers and even the internet.
When I first went to have my mammogram, I was 38 years old. I have no family history of breast cancer and didn't have a spot that I was concerned about. I have fibrocystic breast disease (really lumpy breasts in laymans terms) so I never know what is a good lump or a bad lump. The whole idea of self examination went out the window for me years ago. So many times I would feel something, ask my doctor about it and he would tell me it was nothing. I just stopped the guessing game and left it up to my ob/gyn to figure out. But that December, my sister had a friend under 40 pass away from breast cancer, Giuliana Rancic (celebrity) was diagnosed with breast cancer and my friend's mother was moved under hospice do to her stage IV cancer.
I had one mammogram at 35 but decided with all I was hearing about, it wouldn't hurt to have another one. Like I've explained in previous blogs, I wasn't expecting to find anything. But without the stories of others struggles, I would never have gone that month. Alex was still sick a lot from his ears, so my health was definitely not on the radar. Therefore, I will always be grateful that God let me know about what these other women were dealing with. If not for them, I wouldn't have found my lump until much, much later.
When I was diagnosed from the first doctor, I really felt like she and I didn't have a very good connection. In my eyes she had a terrible bed side manner and I just couldn't imagine going down this path with her. I then got a second opinion and felt like that doctor was waaaaaay too layed back about it, like he wasn't taking it seriously enough. When I explained all this to a friend, she recommended the doctor that treated me for close to a year at Brookwood. Even though we got to a point that I needed to move on from her for further treatment, I am forever grateful to that friend for the recommendation because I truly had an ally in my fight.
Then there was the day that my husband heard the commercial for Cancer Treatment Center of America and told me about them. I had probably heard it myself a hundred times, but it just never registered in my brain. Going to them was definitely life saving and I can never thank them enough for all they did for me. The way they coordinated with UAB so I didn't have to travel to Atlanta all the time. The times they used Face Time for our "appointments", e-mailed me my lab results and had a case manager work with me every step of the way - priceless. They took the use of technology in my cancer fight to a whole new level.
I had another friend share with me about a drug trial her mother was on, a co-worker who learned about a different trial on his local news (that I actually was on for awhile), another friend who shared with me about different medications that helped her sister with nausea/fatigue. This list could go on and on and on.
The truth of the matter is that I would not be here today without all of these people helping us. Many years ago, it used to be that your health treatment plan was between you and your doctor alone. Now it has changed and you receive information from many different sources - at least I have. Of course, it's up to the individual to share these possible treatments with his/her doctor. But the doctor is just one person and he or she could always miss something.
Many a time I have said thank you for your prayers, love, support, your caring e-mails, texts and phone calls, the meals and help with Alex. But today I thank you for all the knowledge you have shared with me for this fight. So much of it I wouldn't have learned on my own. The old saying used to be "it takes a village to raise a child". Today I change it to: "it takes a village to fight cancer." Thank you to each of you that have been here during this fight. I am forever indebted to you.
Happy Friday!
Friday, January 30, 2015
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Radiation, happy juice and good friends
So, most of you that know me well, know that I am an all or nothing person. Not sure if it's the red hair or growing up in a very toxic environment, but I tend to go from one extreme to the other. And that is never more true than how I deal with this stupid disease. As we've discussed before, I'm either talking about it ad nauseum, or completely shut off and barely even mentioning it. I also LOVE to put on my "I'm totally fine, I don't need any help" face until it all hits me and I fall into tiny pieces on the floor. Wanna guess how yesterday went?
Yesterday I headed off to Atlanta for my first round of the "extra-special-cure-all-radiation" that we've been pushing for. All was good. I had my phone, ipad, snacks, my work computer, magazines and a dozen other things to keep me occupied. I was in good spirits and in my head it was just another trip down I-20. I got to talk with one of my best friends along the way and listen to some good music - it felt like just a fun road trip with some quality girl time.
I got to the Cancer Treatment Center and I was all smiles. I was ready to get this show on the road and finally get back in the fight. Way too much time had gone by with us doing nothing but waiting. And again, those that know me well, know I'm terrible at waiting. The only thing I'm worse at is giving up chocolate. So, I get checked in, back to a room and the process begins. I got some medicine to calm my nerves, then an IV with more happy juice (why can't we have that stuff EVERY DAY?) and then a local anesthetic to numb the area they'd be going through to get to my lung. During all this I'm joking with the nurses and doctors. I then have to leave my phone behind and it's like a mini-vacation, just hooked up to several wires. I don't have to worry about work because no one can get ahold of me. It's sord of like going to the spa....okay, maybe not that relaxing, but close enough.
The procedure is finished and I'm taken back to the holding area, I mean recovery room, to wait for the xray. They take one as a precaution to make sure my lung didn't collapse during the internal radiation. Once that is complete, I just hang out for awhile to make sure I'm not going to get sick from any of the meds. When I'm able to show that I'm of stable mind (as much as I normally am), I decide it's time to hit the road in order to avoid some of the fun Atlanta rush hour traffic. Birmingham friends, I know we complain profusely about 280 and I do everything to avoid it, but Atlanta at 5:00 is 1 million times worse. I seriously pity the people that live there. Not that I would ever leave this area, but if I was forced to, it would never be to there.
The drive back home was pretty uneventful. I missed the worst part of Atlanta traffic and got back to BHM when most of ours was done. My goal at that point was to make it home in time to put Alex to bed. I know my hubby could do it just fine, but that's my normal job and even though I pretend it's for my son, the truth is it's my favorite part of the day. I could feel myself getting worn out and emotionally drained. I kept trying to lighten my mood with some upbeat music, but it just wasn't cutting it. My adrenaline was draining fast and then it was just a race against the clock. Happily, I did make it home before little man was asleep and first thing I did was grab him and hug him tight. It was almost like I was willing his energy and life into my body. My poor hubby - I almost forgot to say hi and give him a kiss.
Off to tuck in my sweet boy and I could feel the emotions bubbling to the surface. I just keep praying that God would hold them off until I got Alex to sleep and I wouldn't start crying in front of him. Luckily the prayers worked and I made it to the couch before falling apart. And fall apart I did. I started crying, sobbing is more like it, once my head hit the throw pillow. I can't even tell you what the tears were for. Maybe from exhaustion, maybe because the soreness was setting in, or maybe because I could only avoid how serious this is for so long.
I tried to get the tears to stop by scrowling through Facebook. Big mistake! I follow the blog of a woman who is terminally ill from cancer and currently on hospice. Yesterday she was writing about how hard it is for her to ask for help and how this causes her to be more exhausted in the end. And how she has a ton of offers from friends but it's so hard for her to accept them. It was as if she was writing every.single.thought.in.my head! So then I started crying because of how terrible I am at asking for help and what a stupid ninny I can be for putting on such a front. I mean, really people! My hubby was in the other room happily watching a movie and had no idea I was having a come apart and I was trying to be quiet so he wouldn't hear me. How stupid is that?!?
At this point my eyes were sore from crying and I knew it was time for the chocolate. Of course that helped a bazillion times over and I was on the road back to a small amount of sanity. And that's when I got the text from one of my best friends. This is what it reads: "I know you are probably sitting on the couch eating your chocolate, either pretending you are fine or just having had your melt down from trying too long to pretend your fine. In either scenario, know I love you and I'm here. And you better save some for me."
How blessed am I? Radiation? Check. Happy juice? Check. Amazing, awesome, wonderful, glorious, superb, hysterical, loving, caring friends? Check. Take that Cancer. You are outnumbered.
Yesterday I headed off to Atlanta for my first round of the "extra-special-cure-all-radiation" that we've been pushing for. All was good. I had my phone, ipad, snacks, my work computer, magazines and a dozen other things to keep me occupied. I was in good spirits and in my head it was just another trip down I-20. I got to talk with one of my best friends along the way and listen to some good music - it felt like just a fun road trip with some quality girl time.
I got to the Cancer Treatment Center and I was all smiles. I was ready to get this show on the road and finally get back in the fight. Way too much time had gone by with us doing nothing but waiting. And again, those that know me well, know I'm terrible at waiting. The only thing I'm worse at is giving up chocolate. So, I get checked in, back to a room and the process begins. I got some medicine to calm my nerves, then an IV with more happy juice (why can't we have that stuff EVERY DAY?) and then a local anesthetic to numb the area they'd be going through to get to my lung. During all this I'm joking with the nurses and doctors. I then have to leave my phone behind and it's like a mini-vacation, just hooked up to several wires. I don't have to worry about work because no one can get ahold of me. It's sord of like going to the spa....okay, maybe not that relaxing, but close enough.
The procedure is finished and I'm taken back to the holding area, I mean recovery room, to wait for the xray. They take one as a precaution to make sure my lung didn't collapse during the internal radiation. Once that is complete, I just hang out for awhile to make sure I'm not going to get sick from any of the meds. When I'm able to show that I'm of stable mind (as much as I normally am), I decide it's time to hit the road in order to avoid some of the fun Atlanta rush hour traffic. Birmingham friends, I know we complain profusely about 280 and I do everything to avoid it, but Atlanta at 5:00 is 1 million times worse. I seriously pity the people that live there. Not that I would ever leave this area, but if I was forced to, it would never be to there.
The drive back home was pretty uneventful. I missed the worst part of Atlanta traffic and got back to BHM when most of ours was done. My goal at that point was to make it home in time to put Alex to bed. I know my hubby could do it just fine, but that's my normal job and even though I pretend it's for my son, the truth is it's my favorite part of the day. I could feel myself getting worn out and emotionally drained. I kept trying to lighten my mood with some upbeat music, but it just wasn't cutting it. My adrenaline was draining fast and then it was just a race against the clock. Happily, I did make it home before little man was asleep and first thing I did was grab him and hug him tight. It was almost like I was willing his energy and life into my body. My poor hubby - I almost forgot to say hi and give him a kiss.
Off to tuck in my sweet boy and I could feel the emotions bubbling to the surface. I just keep praying that God would hold them off until I got Alex to sleep and I wouldn't start crying in front of him. Luckily the prayers worked and I made it to the couch before falling apart. And fall apart I did. I started crying, sobbing is more like it, once my head hit the throw pillow. I can't even tell you what the tears were for. Maybe from exhaustion, maybe because the soreness was setting in, or maybe because I could only avoid how serious this is for so long.
I tried to get the tears to stop by scrowling through Facebook. Big mistake! I follow the blog of a woman who is terminally ill from cancer and currently on hospice. Yesterday she was writing about how hard it is for her to ask for help and how this causes her to be more exhausted in the end. And how she has a ton of offers from friends but it's so hard for her to accept them. It was as if she was writing every.single.thought.in.my head! So then I started crying because of how terrible I am at asking for help and what a stupid ninny I can be for putting on such a front. I mean, really people! My hubby was in the other room happily watching a movie and had no idea I was having a come apart and I was trying to be quiet so he wouldn't hear me. How stupid is that?!?
At this point my eyes were sore from crying and I knew it was time for the chocolate. Of course that helped a bazillion times over and I was on the road back to a small amount of sanity. And that's when I got the text from one of my best friends. This is what it reads: "I know you are probably sitting on the couch eating your chocolate, either pretending you are fine or just having had your melt down from trying too long to pretend your fine. In either scenario, know I love you and I'm here. And you better save some for me."
How blessed am I? Radiation? Check. Happy juice? Check. Amazing, awesome, wonderful, glorious, superb, hysterical, loving, caring friends? Check. Take that Cancer. You are outnumbered.
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Are we all dense or just me?
In yesterday's blog I talked about how long I've been pondering my "purpose", what it is that God wants me to want. I mentioned how I'd thought about it, prayed about it, read different books about it and generally stressed over it. I was so happy when my husband told me clear as day that I was meant to write. It was like a light bulb went off and I had an 'ah hah' moment.
In the afternoon, after she had read my blog, a good friend sent me a joking message: "don't forget I was the one who told you to blog in the first place". I knew she was kidding around and wasn't looking for the credit, but it got me thinking. She WAS the one who gently nudged me (more than once) to start writing due to all the 'Alexisms' I'd post on Facebook. And she wasn't the only one....
There's the friend who at the beginning (when she knew I was nervous what people thought) commented something positive about EVERY.SINGLE.BLOG. She would tell me how great of a writer I was and how she wished she had my talent. I'm pretty sure she was blowing smoke, but it still was very nice of her.
Then there is the friend who encouraged me to keep writing even when I got some negative feedback about being too open with my cancer fight.
And the family member who told me that when she really wanted to know how I was doing/feeling that she would read my blog.
And the friend who would share my blog with her husband who wasn't on Facebook and to this day is my best critic.
And of course my friend who encouraged me time and time and time again to make sure I saved every blog for the one day I would write a book. And even sent me different online links and pages from the paper about how to start a writing career.
So, why did it take my husband telling me my purpose for me to FINALLY get it? Is it because his opinion ultimately means the most? Or because God had determined that was the day/time He was going to open my mind. For me it is probably a combination of both. 30 people can tell me they enjoyed what I wrote, but when Matt tells me the same thing, it means the most. It gives me the biggest rush. Because I know he would NEVER say it if it weren't true. That's just not his way. Therefore, in my mind, it's the highest compliment.
But the second part is just as important - God's timing. I think He knew that I was really, really, REALLY ready to understand His purpose for me. He knew that I was truly at the place to hear it, that my heart and mind were completely open to hearing from Him. And even though the words came from my husband, I know God was using him in that moment. To steer me forward. To guide my course.
So here I am, starting a new day, trying not to ask "what next?" Not quite sure what all this means, but just trying to take it as it comes. Maybe it will be just this...writing my random thoughts in a blog. And maybe that will be enough. But I'll take it day by day and keep my ears and eyes open for more signs from God. And maybe a few more words from my hubby. :-)
Thank you to each and every single one of you that have encouraged me on this journey. Sorry that I always didn't get it. Thank you for being patient with this hard headed girl. I'd obviously be lost without you all.
Hugs!
In the afternoon, after she had read my blog, a good friend sent me a joking message: "don't forget I was the one who told you to blog in the first place". I knew she was kidding around and wasn't looking for the credit, but it got me thinking. She WAS the one who gently nudged me (more than once) to start writing due to all the 'Alexisms' I'd post on Facebook. And she wasn't the only one....
There's the friend who at the beginning (when she knew I was nervous what people thought) commented something positive about EVERY.SINGLE.BLOG. She would tell me how great of a writer I was and how she wished she had my talent. I'm pretty sure she was blowing smoke, but it still was very nice of her.
Then there is the friend who encouraged me to keep writing even when I got some negative feedback about being too open with my cancer fight.
And the family member who told me that when she really wanted to know how I was doing/feeling that she would read my blog.
And the friend who would share my blog with her husband who wasn't on Facebook and to this day is my best critic.
And of course my friend who encouraged me time and time and time again to make sure I saved every blog for the one day I would write a book. And even sent me different online links and pages from the paper about how to start a writing career.
So, why did it take my husband telling me my purpose for me to FINALLY get it? Is it because his opinion ultimately means the most? Or because God had determined that was the day/time He was going to open my mind. For me it is probably a combination of both. 30 people can tell me they enjoyed what I wrote, but when Matt tells me the same thing, it means the most. It gives me the biggest rush. Because I know he would NEVER say it if it weren't true. That's just not his way. Therefore, in my mind, it's the highest compliment.
But the second part is just as important - God's timing. I think He knew that I was really, really, REALLY ready to understand His purpose for me. He knew that I was truly at the place to hear it, that my heart and mind were completely open to hearing from Him. And even though the words came from my husband, I know God was using him in that moment. To steer me forward. To guide my course.
So here I am, starting a new day, trying not to ask "what next?" Not quite sure what all this means, but just trying to take it as it comes. Maybe it will be just this...writing my random thoughts in a blog. And maybe that will be enough. But I'll take it day by day and keep my ears and eyes open for more signs from God. And maybe a few more words from my hubby. :-)
Thank you to each and every single one of you that have encouraged me on this journey. Sorry that I always didn't get it. Thank you for being patient with this hard headed girl. I'd obviously be lost without you all.
Hugs!
Monday, January 26, 2015
What does God want you to want?
Yesterday our pastor's sermon centered around a question I've been asking myself for several months - if not years. "What does God want you to want?" Later on when I got home, I told my husband I was so frustrated by that question that I almost raised my hand to ask "what if I don't know?" He said he was sure it wasn't a Q&A session so he's glad I didn't do that. I could see in my poor hubby's eyes the potential embarassment he was imagining. Anyway, I digress....
So, since I was a good girl and didn't raise my hand during church, I was left with the initial question: what if I don't know what God wants me to want? I decided to ask Matt if he knew his purpose and he said he wasn't totally sure, but that when the question was posed, he knew right away what mine was. Really, I asked, please tell me. He said it was to be a writer. Just like that. Pure and simple, while I'd been worrying about it for the longest time. I told him that I didn't think I could make any money writing and he told me that maybe that was part of his purpose - to make it so that I didn't need to worry about the money aspect. I came up with a few other reasons why this couldn't be my purpose and he shot those down as well.
And you know what happened a few moments after that conversation? I felt like someone had lifted a twenty pound weight off of my shoulders. I had been struggling with that question FOREVER and all it took was my asking my sweet hubby. Why hadn't I done that before? Why hadn't I shared this struggle with him earlier? Why hadn't I made it clear how much this had been weighing on me? Maybe because I didn't want to put more on his shoulders. Maybe because I didn't want to sound like I was whining about my current job. Or maybe because we have a lot of other things going on right now and telling him how unfilfilled I've been feeling didn't seem like a huge priority. But imagine if we'd had that conversation months earlier? The peace that I would have felt long ago.
Throughout the day I still tried poking holes in this whole writing thing. Did I like to write? Yes. Actually, I LOVE to write. It is calming for me, it helps me clear my head, it's cathartic, and it makes me feel like I might be helping others by sharing some of my crazy thoughts. So, the answer was a definite yes to "is this something you'd like to do?" But then the other doubts came up: How do I turn my little blog into something more? How would I find enough to write about? Would there come a point that people would get sick of my ramblings? Do I try and write a book or stick to a blog? On and on the questions came.
Then last night as I was settling in, I was reminded of the main question our pastor asked: What does God want you to WANT. It wasn't "how will you make that work" or "where do you start" or "will everyone else agree with this want". It was what does GOD want you to want. And I had my answer. God wants me to write. Clear as day that is my answer. This morning do I know more than that? No. Do I have any clue what it will lead to and what I should be writing about or if I even need one main subject? No. Do I know how much or how little I should be writing? NOPE. Will there ever come a time I can quit my job and focus solely on writing? No earthly idea. But I know I'm going to write and I will just have to pray for the rest of the answers. And even that little bit of knowledge gives me a great feeling. Because I finally feel like God and I are on the same page regarding this one thing. And that's a great feeling to have.
Hope you all have a great day. Love to you all.
So, since I was a good girl and didn't raise my hand during church, I was left with the initial question: what if I don't know what God wants me to want? I decided to ask Matt if he knew his purpose and he said he wasn't totally sure, but that when the question was posed, he knew right away what mine was. Really, I asked, please tell me. He said it was to be a writer. Just like that. Pure and simple, while I'd been worrying about it for the longest time. I told him that I didn't think I could make any money writing and he told me that maybe that was part of his purpose - to make it so that I didn't need to worry about the money aspect. I came up with a few other reasons why this couldn't be my purpose and he shot those down as well.
And you know what happened a few moments after that conversation? I felt like someone had lifted a twenty pound weight off of my shoulders. I had been struggling with that question FOREVER and all it took was my asking my sweet hubby. Why hadn't I done that before? Why hadn't I shared this struggle with him earlier? Why hadn't I made it clear how much this had been weighing on me? Maybe because I didn't want to put more on his shoulders. Maybe because I didn't want to sound like I was whining about my current job. Or maybe because we have a lot of other things going on right now and telling him how unfilfilled I've been feeling didn't seem like a huge priority. But imagine if we'd had that conversation months earlier? The peace that I would have felt long ago.
Throughout the day I still tried poking holes in this whole writing thing. Did I like to write? Yes. Actually, I LOVE to write. It is calming for me, it helps me clear my head, it's cathartic, and it makes me feel like I might be helping others by sharing some of my crazy thoughts. So, the answer was a definite yes to "is this something you'd like to do?" But then the other doubts came up: How do I turn my little blog into something more? How would I find enough to write about? Would there come a point that people would get sick of my ramblings? Do I try and write a book or stick to a blog? On and on the questions came.
Then last night as I was settling in, I was reminded of the main question our pastor asked: What does God want you to WANT. It wasn't "how will you make that work" or "where do you start" or "will everyone else agree with this want". It was what does GOD want you to want. And I had my answer. God wants me to write. Clear as day that is my answer. This morning do I know more than that? No. Do I have any clue what it will lead to and what I should be writing about or if I even need one main subject? No. Do I know how much or how little I should be writing? NOPE. Will there ever come a time I can quit my job and focus solely on writing? No earthly idea. But I know I'm going to write and I will just have to pray for the rest of the answers. And even that little bit of knowledge gives me a great feeling. Because I finally feel like God and I are on the same page regarding this one thing. And that's a great feeling to have.
Hope you all have a great day. Love to you all.
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Easy prey for Satan...
I will be the first person to admit I'm hard headed...or maybe it's slow to learn. I'm sure my hubby has an opinion on this one and he'd probably use the word stubborn. Either way, sometimes it seems like God has taught me the same lesson over and over and over yet I forget it over and over and over again. Yesterday was a perfect example.
Tuesday I was high as a kite from learning that my radiation was FINALLY pre-approved. I couldn't wait to tell the world about how God had made it happen and how amazing He is. My faith felt as solid as a rock because I had seen first hand how He would lead me through the toughest of times. I was uplifted by the knowledge that no matter how low I got, how exhausted I became, He would carry me through the battle. If I could have walked down Highway 280 carrying a sign praising His name, I probably would have done it. I was that full of glory.
Looking back in history, I see that the two times Satan truly gets to me is when I'm at my highest and when I'm at my lowest. It's not the middle-of-the-road times. He wiggles his way into my mind and heart when I'm down in the dumps and don't have the emotional energy to fight back. But he also finds his way in (and this probably happens more often) when I'm riding up high, when I'm my happiest and full of life. I think it's because I don't see it coming. I'm so focused on God and how wonderful things are and how nothing can get me down that he comes up from behind and takes me out at the knees. And since I'm feeling so awesome there's farther to fall.
This happened yesterday. I went into work ready to start scheduling my next treatments and coordinate it all with my boss. Nothing could bring me down. I was reading all your supportive messages and feeling loved and thinking it was going to be a glorious day. God had my back and had shown it clear as day. I felt like I had been rejuvenated and had a new sense of energy and purpose. We were finally back on track to kick this disease and nothing could stand in my/our way. We were UNSTOPPABLE. Until my boss had a whole other way of looking at it.
I thought it best to go right to him and tell him what I needed to have done and how it would require me to miss some time from work, but I had PTO to cover it, etc. I wasn't asking for a lot of time and didn't think it would end up being a huge disruption. But obviously he did. A bit of a background: I had learned recently that he is being relocated to NC but that I would still be reporting to him from AL. But when I told him about needing more treatments, he made a comment about maybe he should use someone up in NC to support him because he needed someone more reliable. And that maybe I should take a leave of absence until I was sure that I was finally done with all treatments. And how he'd been tracking my time missed from the office and it was getting excessive. And finally, how I might need to decide if I could continue working while I had this disease still hanging over my head.
Since I was on such a high and completely unprepared for his response, it all hit me pretty hard. I was already a bit worried about him moving to NC and deciding he didn't need me after all, so now I had that fear back in my head. And from there, Satan got his foothold. I was hurt because I felt like my boss didn't care, I was frustrated because I had just fought to get insurance to cover these treatments, and now I have to fight the same company to take the time off needed. Instead of taking all those emotions and give them over to God, I let Satan take a hold of me for the rest of the day. I was angry, pissed off, frustrated, irritated - you name it, I was feeling it. And those feelings ruled my day. Or more to the point, I allowed those feelings and Satan to rule my day.
I got home and Alex hit me with some stuff right when I walked in the door and it set me off more. Yes, it was stuff that was irritating and he probably could tell my mood and decided to push my buttons further. But on another day, I would have been better at taking a deep breath and walking away. And even though I felt it was necessary to address several issues with him, I didn't deal with them with the right attitude. This caused some friction between Matt and I and there went a good part of the evening.
All because Satan saw a good opportunity, took it and I allowed it. I allowed it during that meeting with my boss, I allowed it during the rest of the day, I allowed it on my drive home, I allowed it when I walked in my front door and I allowed it in my interaction with Alex. So, who's to blame? I would love to blame it all on the devil, but I am ultimately at fault. Because I know God can fix all these things I'm worried about, because He has proven it to me time and time again and because I have seen this pattern several times in the past.
Where do I go from here? I'd love to kick myself in the butt, but I'm not that flexible. What other options are there? Well, all I know to do (other than mentally beating myself up for several days) is to take a deep breath and tell the devil that he has no place in my life today or any other day. To remind myself (for the thousandth time) that God is in control and all concerns I have need to be turned over to Him. So, I started the day with some chocolate (because that always helps me get closer to God - or at least that's what I tell myself), re-read my blog from Tuesday to remind myself of His power and started a new day. I can't promise that I won't repeat this cycle again but I'm going to do my best to learn from it. I sure hope I'm not the only one that is this hard headed. Even if I am, I'm going to pretend I'm not alone. :-)
Tuesday I was high as a kite from learning that my radiation was FINALLY pre-approved. I couldn't wait to tell the world about how God had made it happen and how amazing He is. My faith felt as solid as a rock because I had seen first hand how He would lead me through the toughest of times. I was uplifted by the knowledge that no matter how low I got, how exhausted I became, He would carry me through the battle. If I could have walked down Highway 280 carrying a sign praising His name, I probably would have done it. I was that full of glory.
Looking back in history, I see that the two times Satan truly gets to me is when I'm at my highest and when I'm at my lowest. It's not the middle-of-the-road times. He wiggles his way into my mind and heart when I'm down in the dumps and don't have the emotional energy to fight back. But he also finds his way in (and this probably happens more often) when I'm riding up high, when I'm my happiest and full of life. I think it's because I don't see it coming. I'm so focused on God and how wonderful things are and how nothing can get me down that he comes up from behind and takes me out at the knees. And since I'm feeling so awesome there's farther to fall.
This happened yesterday. I went into work ready to start scheduling my next treatments and coordinate it all with my boss. Nothing could bring me down. I was reading all your supportive messages and feeling loved and thinking it was going to be a glorious day. God had my back and had shown it clear as day. I felt like I had been rejuvenated and had a new sense of energy and purpose. We were finally back on track to kick this disease and nothing could stand in my/our way. We were UNSTOPPABLE. Until my boss had a whole other way of looking at it.
I thought it best to go right to him and tell him what I needed to have done and how it would require me to miss some time from work, but I had PTO to cover it, etc. I wasn't asking for a lot of time and didn't think it would end up being a huge disruption. But obviously he did. A bit of a background: I had learned recently that he is being relocated to NC but that I would still be reporting to him from AL. But when I told him about needing more treatments, he made a comment about maybe he should use someone up in NC to support him because he needed someone more reliable. And that maybe I should take a leave of absence until I was sure that I was finally done with all treatments. And how he'd been tracking my time missed from the office and it was getting excessive. And finally, how I might need to decide if I could continue working while I had this disease still hanging over my head.
Since I was on such a high and completely unprepared for his response, it all hit me pretty hard. I was already a bit worried about him moving to NC and deciding he didn't need me after all, so now I had that fear back in my head. And from there, Satan got his foothold. I was hurt because I felt like my boss didn't care, I was frustrated because I had just fought to get insurance to cover these treatments, and now I have to fight the same company to take the time off needed. Instead of taking all those emotions and give them over to God, I let Satan take a hold of me for the rest of the day. I was angry, pissed off, frustrated, irritated - you name it, I was feeling it. And those feelings ruled my day. Or more to the point, I allowed those feelings and Satan to rule my day.
I got home and Alex hit me with some stuff right when I walked in the door and it set me off more. Yes, it was stuff that was irritating and he probably could tell my mood and decided to push my buttons further. But on another day, I would have been better at taking a deep breath and walking away. And even though I felt it was necessary to address several issues with him, I didn't deal with them with the right attitude. This caused some friction between Matt and I and there went a good part of the evening.
All because Satan saw a good opportunity, took it and I allowed it. I allowed it during that meeting with my boss, I allowed it during the rest of the day, I allowed it on my drive home, I allowed it when I walked in my front door and I allowed it in my interaction with Alex. So, who's to blame? I would love to blame it all on the devil, but I am ultimately at fault. Because I know God can fix all these things I'm worried about, because He has proven it to me time and time again and because I have seen this pattern several times in the past.
Where do I go from here? I'd love to kick myself in the butt, but I'm not that flexible. What other options are there? Well, all I know to do (other than mentally beating myself up for several days) is to take a deep breath and tell the devil that he has no place in my life today or any other day. To remind myself (for the thousandth time) that God is in control and all concerns I have need to be turned over to Him. So, I started the day with some chocolate (because that always helps me get closer to God - or at least that's what I tell myself), re-read my blog from Tuesday to remind myself of His power and started a new day. I can't promise that I won't repeat this cycle again but I'm going to do my best to learn from it. I sure hope I'm not the only one that is this hard headed. Even if I am, I'm going to pretend I'm not alone. :-)
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
Never give up...
Some of you already know, but last March we found out that my cancer had returned and found it's way into my lung. For a thousand and one reasons, we tried very hard to keep it on the down low. Partly because it kept some of my life insulated from the disease. Partly because I wanted people to still see me as "Vicki" and not "Vicki with cancer". Partly because I just thought we would quickly kick it and would move on with our lives again. But mostly because I know I'm SICK AND TIRED of talking/hearing about it, so everyone else probably is too.
But today is not about the cancer, today is about NEVER giving up. Not ever. Not one single time. See, we started in March with different treatments and drugs and I tried to do everything the doctors said. Unfortunately nothing was working. It actually was just getting worse. The doctor recommended a special type of radiation but we needed pre-approval from insurance. And they denied. We appealed. And they denied. We appealed. And they denied again. My doctor decided that if they wouldn't approve this radiation, the other option was surgery to remove the infected lung. Of course we needed pre-approval. And it was denied. We appealed and they denied. We appealed again and they denied again. The doctor thought that if we gave insurance the option, they would choose the radiation since it would be far less expensive so we went back and tried that one more time. DENIED.
I talked to my doctor and asked what our other option was and he very nicely told me there was no other option. We had tried every possible chemo and drug possible. We were at a dead end. If we didn't get one of these options approved, well....your mind can take it from there. I went through a ton of different emotions that day and will be honest that I did want to give up. I was tired of the drugs, treatments, doctor visits, side effects, emotional roller coaster and mostly of the fight. I just wanted to throw up my hands and surrender to the disease. I was done. I didn't have any idea what else to do next.
But God knew better. He knew that I had nothing left in the tank and stepped in. During that sleepless night, he started building up my mental strength. He gave me the steps to take to fight with the insurance company (also my employer). The next morning at 8:00 am I started calling everyone I knew that could help me. I wanted to be able to speak directly to the person making these decisions. God gave me back the fight and I wouldn't be deterred. I pushed it just as far as I could without losing my job. And each person got me one step closer until I was FINALLY speaking ON THE PHONE to a claims manager. God bless that man because he truly listened to my whole story. He really cared - I could hear it in his voice. And for that I was so incredibly thankful.
During our conversation, I learned that there are three stages of appeals at United Healthcare. Each appeal SHOULD (notice that word in big, bold letters) have gone from level one to level two and then level three. However, that never happened. Each time we appealed, it went to level one and never went up any higher. And that is why we kept receiving denials - because the system was showing we'd already appealed at level one and this caused an automatic kick back. Not one of our appeals had EVER made it through the proper channels. This was on one hand infuriating because of all the hell we'd been through as we sat waiting and waiting and waiting. On the other hand, we had hope again because we knew what was going on.
Once we knew what the hold up was, the claims manager was able to personally move my appeal to the highest level. And this morning at approximately 7:46 a.m., I received a call from my doctor that he finally got the pre-approval for the radiation. To say I am relieved is the biggest understatement. Now we just need to get it scheduled and pray that it works. But today I am just SOOOOO thankful for God pushing me in the right direction and showing me exactly what I needed to do.
And that is why I am writing this blog today and finally sharing what has been going on in our family. I thought it was important to share with you all the importance of never giving up. If I had given into those fears, doubts, worries and total exhaustion, I would never have received today's good news. But please don't mistake me - none of the credit is mine. If it was up to me that day, I wouldn't have had the strength to move forward. All the glory goes to my Father in Heaven. He gave me the tools, He gave me the strength, He gave me the drive and He gave me the determination. I am so thankful that I got out of His way and allowed Him to be the driving force behind this solution.
Thank you in advance for your prayers that this treatment will work. Love to you all.
But today is not about the cancer, today is about NEVER giving up. Not ever. Not one single time. See, we started in March with different treatments and drugs and I tried to do everything the doctors said. Unfortunately nothing was working. It actually was just getting worse. The doctor recommended a special type of radiation but we needed pre-approval from insurance. And they denied. We appealed. And they denied. We appealed. And they denied again. My doctor decided that if they wouldn't approve this radiation, the other option was surgery to remove the infected lung. Of course we needed pre-approval. And it was denied. We appealed and they denied. We appealed again and they denied again. The doctor thought that if we gave insurance the option, they would choose the radiation since it would be far less expensive so we went back and tried that one more time. DENIED.
I talked to my doctor and asked what our other option was and he very nicely told me there was no other option. We had tried every possible chemo and drug possible. We were at a dead end. If we didn't get one of these options approved, well....your mind can take it from there. I went through a ton of different emotions that day and will be honest that I did want to give up. I was tired of the drugs, treatments, doctor visits, side effects, emotional roller coaster and mostly of the fight. I just wanted to throw up my hands and surrender to the disease. I was done. I didn't have any idea what else to do next.
But God knew better. He knew that I had nothing left in the tank and stepped in. During that sleepless night, he started building up my mental strength. He gave me the steps to take to fight with the insurance company (also my employer). The next morning at 8:00 am I started calling everyone I knew that could help me. I wanted to be able to speak directly to the person making these decisions. God gave me back the fight and I wouldn't be deterred. I pushed it just as far as I could without losing my job. And each person got me one step closer until I was FINALLY speaking ON THE PHONE to a claims manager. God bless that man because he truly listened to my whole story. He really cared - I could hear it in his voice. And for that I was so incredibly thankful.
During our conversation, I learned that there are three stages of appeals at United Healthcare. Each appeal SHOULD (notice that word in big, bold letters) have gone from level one to level two and then level three. However, that never happened. Each time we appealed, it went to level one and never went up any higher. And that is why we kept receiving denials - because the system was showing we'd already appealed at level one and this caused an automatic kick back. Not one of our appeals had EVER made it through the proper channels. This was on one hand infuriating because of all the hell we'd been through as we sat waiting and waiting and waiting. On the other hand, we had hope again because we knew what was going on.
Once we knew what the hold up was, the claims manager was able to personally move my appeal to the highest level. And this morning at approximately 7:46 a.m., I received a call from my doctor that he finally got the pre-approval for the radiation. To say I am relieved is the biggest understatement. Now we just need to get it scheduled and pray that it works. But today I am just SOOOOO thankful for God pushing me in the right direction and showing me exactly what I needed to do.
And that is why I am writing this blog today and finally sharing what has been going on in our family. I thought it was important to share with you all the importance of never giving up. If I had given into those fears, doubts, worries and total exhaustion, I would never have received today's good news. But please don't mistake me - none of the credit is mine. If it was up to me that day, I wouldn't have had the strength to move forward. All the glory goes to my Father in Heaven. He gave me the tools, He gave me the strength, He gave me the drive and He gave me the determination. I am so thankful that I got out of His way and allowed Him to be the driving force behind this solution.
Thank you in advance for your prayers that this treatment will work. Love to you all.
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