You know those days...the ones where you wake up on the wrong side of the bed for no reason? I went to bed on time, actually a bit early, got plenty of sleep, child slept through the night, nothing bad coming up in the day. Just, well, one of those days. And I couldn't put my finger on a single reason why. I could tell I was grumpy so was watching every word coming out of my mouth because I didn't want to take it out on Matt or Alex. Luckily I got us out the door and all the way to preschool and nothing negative came out of my mouth.
Then before I left the school, I checked my phone and saw I had a text from a friend. And this is what it said: "Just thinking of you this morning and wanted to let you know I love you and hope you have a fantastic day." And that's all it took. My day completely turned around. I got the biggest smile on my face and I decided right then to make it a great day. Because not only was I loved by this friend, I was reminded in that moment that I was loved by God. He had used that friend to help brighten up my day, I just knew it. That is how He works - he places people in our lives to help us through those moments, those days. And He has blessed me with SO many wonderful people, more than I truthfully deserve.
So, this morning I wanted to tell all of you that read this blog: please know that you are loved. Loved by me and loved by God. I hope that by hearing this it might also brighten your day. I know this one is short but I just had to pass on the message. Hope you all have a FANTASTIC day!
Love in Him, Vicki
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Friday, April 25, 2014
Mommy, I'm proud of me too
Last night when I tucked Alex into bed I told him I was so proud of him for the good day he'd had. His response? "I'm proud of me too." And in that moment I knew we'd made the right decision.
Let me rewind a bit. Alex has always been a tad on the hyper side. Okay, maybe more than just a tad. He came out of the womb that way. He had a terrible time napping and didn't sleep through the night until he was fifteen months old. For the first three years of his life we weren't sure if him being sick all the time had disrupted his sleep patterns or if it was something else. After he had his last ear surgery at three and a half, Matt and I started discussing if he was going to ever calm down. It was too early for him to be evaluated for ADHD so we had him seen by a cognitive therapist. She diagnosed him as having something called 'Sensory Processing Disorder.' Basically she felt that all his illnesses had caused a break down in some natural progression of his ability to handle stimulation. Unlike the majority of the children with the disorder, she thought he needed a higher amount of stimulation. She gave us some things to work on with him that she thought would help. They never really did.
We tried watching his diet, making sure he got plenty of exercise, behavior modification, a strict bedtime routine, a very structured environment, etc. We tended not to do things during the week after preschool because it took him a long time to settle back down afterwards. Over time I realized how many ways his hyperactivity was effecting all of us as a family. But it wasn't until he could verablize it on his own that I knew it was time to take the next step.
A few months ago I picked Alex up from school and the teacher told me he'd had a meltdown that day. She explained that she had instructed him, yet again, to sit still during story time and he said "I just can't" and burst into tears. I was curious if this was his way of getting out of trouble or if it was his way of telling us something. A couple days later I had repeatedly asked Alex to calm down and he told me I was making him sad. I asked him why and he told me because I'm always telling him to be quiet but I know it isn't his fault. Then one night at bedtime, I asked Alex to please stop wriggling around and settle down. He told me that there were snakes inside his legs that were making him move around. It seemed like his way of trying to explain how hyper he felt inside. I shared all these comments with Matt and together we decided to call the pediatrician.
She had Matt and I and the school fill out different questionaires so she could get a feel for how he acted in different environments. Then we had to wait a month or so to see her. And it was the longest month. Because even though we didn't have a diagnosis yet, it was all of a sudden so obvious. Now that we really saw it, I wanted it fixed immediately. Yes, you all know that I'm terrible when it comes to patience. And through that month it seemed like Alex was getting frustrated with us as well. He was trying to explain it in numerous ways and in his eyes we just weren't getting it, weren't doing anything about it. So, he acted out even more, lashed out at us (mostly me because Mommy is supposed to fix everything) and seemed to get in even more trouble at school. It was almost like he'd given up trying; if he was going to get in trouble no matter what, why even bother?
So a few weeks ago when we got to see the doctor, I was MORE than ready for some help, some advice. The doctor spent about an hour with us and at the end of that time she said it was clear to her that he had ADHD. Was I relieved? Yes. Do I feel a bit guilty about that? Yes. For a few reasons. I soooooo hate the fact that he has to take another daily medication. I had been very happy that we'd weaned him off his reflux meds and for the first time in his life he didn't have to take one prescription. I also felt guilty because I felt like I'd caused it. I was ADHD as a child and I felt like I had passed it on to him. The doctor saw all this on my face and said it's okay, you didn't cause it. Yes, it may be genetic, but that doesn't mean you personally did anything to make him this way. She also said that it's okay to be relieved that she agreed with me about the diagnosis. She told me lots of parents feel that way - makes them see that they aren't crazy. And that all made me feel much better.
So, we got some medication and the first two weeks were a roller coaster. With ADHD, it's actually a chemical imbalance in the brain which has to be regulated. And for Alex, that wasn't the easiest of processes. He went from sad to happy to angry and calm to hyper and back again, all in the blink of an eye. After one week I wasn't sure we were on the right track. But then a couple days ago I started to see some light at the end of the tunnel.
It started with him spending half a day with his grandparents and them commenting on how he seemed calmer. And then he was working on a project and said "look how I'm taking my time and not rushing." Then he stayed home from school one day when we were both sick and actually was calm the WHOLE DAY - something I'd never experienced with him. And then yesterday was the real testimony. I picked him up from school and got a GLOWING report about how he'd sat still during the story time and didn't interrupt his teacher and played nicely with his friends on the playground. Then at home I was on the phone and he didn't ask for my attention one time.
This is why at bedtime I told him how proud of him I was. Because I knew he'd really been trying hard. Even before the medication he'd been trying, but it had been something he couldn't control. And I was over the moon happy to see things smoothing out. But when he told me he was proud of himself, well, I thought my heart would burst with joy. Because that's what I wanted for him. I want him to be happy and not down on himself. I want him to know that he is a good kid. So, yes, I was happy for me and Matt that things would be getting easier, but I was ecstatic that HE was happy. Isn't that all parents really want for their children anyway? It's in our nature. Once you have a child, all the priorities shift. It stops being about us and they come first. And that is why today I'm over the moon. Because I know we made the right decision and I know it's just going to get better from here.
God bless you and thank you to everyone who has been on the "Alex hyper ride" with us. :)
Let me rewind a bit. Alex has always been a tad on the hyper side. Okay, maybe more than just a tad. He came out of the womb that way. He had a terrible time napping and didn't sleep through the night until he was fifteen months old. For the first three years of his life we weren't sure if him being sick all the time had disrupted his sleep patterns or if it was something else. After he had his last ear surgery at three and a half, Matt and I started discussing if he was going to ever calm down. It was too early for him to be evaluated for ADHD so we had him seen by a cognitive therapist. She diagnosed him as having something called 'Sensory Processing Disorder.' Basically she felt that all his illnesses had caused a break down in some natural progression of his ability to handle stimulation. Unlike the majority of the children with the disorder, she thought he needed a higher amount of stimulation. She gave us some things to work on with him that she thought would help. They never really did.
We tried watching his diet, making sure he got plenty of exercise, behavior modification, a strict bedtime routine, a very structured environment, etc. We tended not to do things during the week after preschool because it took him a long time to settle back down afterwards. Over time I realized how many ways his hyperactivity was effecting all of us as a family. But it wasn't until he could verablize it on his own that I knew it was time to take the next step.
A few months ago I picked Alex up from school and the teacher told me he'd had a meltdown that day. She explained that she had instructed him, yet again, to sit still during story time and he said "I just can't" and burst into tears. I was curious if this was his way of getting out of trouble or if it was his way of telling us something. A couple days later I had repeatedly asked Alex to calm down and he told me I was making him sad. I asked him why and he told me because I'm always telling him to be quiet but I know it isn't his fault. Then one night at bedtime, I asked Alex to please stop wriggling around and settle down. He told me that there were snakes inside his legs that were making him move around. It seemed like his way of trying to explain how hyper he felt inside. I shared all these comments with Matt and together we decided to call the pediatrician.
She had Matt and I and the school fill out different questionaires so she could get a feel for how he acted in different environments. Then we had to wait a month or so to see her. And it was the longest month. Because even though we didn't have a diagnosis yet, it was all of a sudden so obvious. Now that we really saw it, I wanted it fixed immediately. Yes, you all know that I'm terrible when it comes to patience. And through that month it seemed like Alex was getting frustrated with us as well. He was trying to explain it in numerous ways and in his eyes we just weren't getting it, weren't doing anything about it. So, he acted out even more, lashed out at us (mostly me because Mommy is supposed to fix everything) and seemed to get in even more trouble at school. It was almost like he'd given up trying; if he was going to get in trouble no matter what, why even bother?
So a few weeks ago when we got to see the doctor, I was MORE than ready for some help, some advice. The doctor spent about an hour with us and at the end of that time she said it was clear to her that he had ADHD. Was I relieved? Yes. Do I feel a bit guilty about that? Yes. For a few reasons. I soooooo hate the fact that he has to take another daily medication. I had been very happy that we'd weaned him off his reflux meds and for the first time in his life he didn't have to take one prescription. I also felt guilty because I felt like I'd caused it. I was ADHD as a child and I felt like I had passed it on to him. The doctor saw all this on my face and said it's okay, you didn't cause it. Yes, it may be genetic, but that doesn't mean you personally did anything to make him this way. She also said that it's okay to be relieved that she agreed with me about the diagnosis. She told me lots of parents feel that way - makes them see that they aren't crazy. And that all made me feel much better.
So, we got some medication and the first two weeks were a roller coaster. With ADHD, it's actually a chemical imbalance in the brain which has to be regulated. And for Alex, that wasn't the easiest of processes. He went from sad to happy to angry and calm to hyper and back again, all in the blink of an eye. After one week I wasn't sure we were on the right track. But then a couple days ago I started to see some light at the end of the tunnel.
It started with him spending half a day with his grandparents and them commenting on how he seemed calmer. And then he was working on a project and said "look how I'm taking my time and not rushing." Then he stayed home from school one day when we were both sick and actually was calm the WHOLE DAY - something I'd never experienced with him. And then yesterday was the real testimony. I picked him up from school and got a GLOWING report about how he'd sat still during the story time and didn't interrupt his teacher and played nicely with his friends on the playground. Then at home I was on the phone and he didn't ask for my attention one time.
This is why at bedtime I told him how proud of him I was. Because I knew he'd really been trying hard. Even before the medication he'd been trying, but it had been something he couldn't control. And I was over the moon happy to see things smoothing out. But when he told me he was proud of himself, well, I thought my heart would burst with joy. Because that's what I wanted for him. I want him to be happy and not down on himself. I want him to know that he is a good kid. So, yes, I was happy for me and Matt that things would be getting easier, but I was ecstatic that HE was happy. Isn't that all parents really want for their children anyway? It's in our nature. Once you have a child, all the priorities shift. It stops being about us and they come first. And that is why today I'm over the moon. Because I know we made the right decision and I know it's just going to get better from here.
God bless you and thank you to everyone who has been on the "Alex hyper ride" with us. :)
Thursday, April 24, 2014
God knows just the child you need
Yesterday I woke up sick as a dog. Where did that saying come from anyway? I just have never noticed that my dogs get sick that much and if they do, they get to lay around all day anyway. So, me being sick is nothing like when they are sick. Sorry, I digress....Okay, so I woke up really feeling icky, knew I wouldn't be going to work and my biggest worry was getting Alex up and ready for school so I could go back to sleep. But he had other plans, cause he woke up under the weather as well.
Now, for all you mothers out there, you will understand what was going through my mind at first: "**it! How am I supposed to take care of myself and him? Why can't I just be sick? I just want to pull the covers over my head!" Don't lie - you have all been there! So, to say I was feeling a tad negative about the situation would be putting it mildly. I was even a bit irritated at Alex - as if it was his fault. And unfortunately, he could tell, and that made me feel terrible. I was expecting him to get crabby back at me but what he did next really turned the day around.
I was lying on the couch, he came over, put his arms around me and said "It's okay Mommy. Since we're both sick, we can take care of each other. I'll give you love and you can give me love." Yep, that's my son. The 'glass is half full kinda guy'. To counteract my tendency to be the 'glass if half empty kinda gal'. I posted something about this on Facebook yesterday but I've been thinking about it ever since and had to share what's been going through my mind.
As we wasted part of the day away, Alex was watching cartoons in one room and I was watching reruns of 'Sex in the City' in the other. It was an episode where one of the characters, Charlotte, found out that she and her husband would be adopting a baby from China. They had been through fertility treatments, suffered miscarriages and had one family pull out of an adoption. So, it was with great excitement that they found out God would finally be giving them a baby. Charlotte looked at the picture that came in their package and said "That's our baby. I just know it."
Now maybe it was cause I was exhausted and feeling wonky, but my eyes filled up with tears. Yes, I've watched that scene at least 20 times before, but yesterday it hit me in a different way. It made me think back to Matt's and my difficulties with having a baby. The months of not getting pregnant, then the miscarriages, then the fertility treatments that didn't work. I remember the frustration and hurt and pain of not understanding God's plan. I've since learned a lot about why He allowed us to go through those times and yesterday I realized another.
Alex was meant to be our child. God knew that he would be exactly what I needed. That I would need a child that made me laugh, that is silly, fun, caring, loving , cuddly and most important: positive. That there would be days that he would be the one to show me the glass was half full, not empty. That he would get me to look at things in a completely different way. That he would get me to embrace life in ways I hadn't before. And during the days when I was really sick, he gave me the push to keep going and keep fighting.
So, today God, I thank you for your perfect plan. I thank you that all along you knew just the right child to complete our family. Thank you for his giggle, his smiles, his hugs, his sense of humor, the way he loves life, you, his friends, his family, and mostly, the way he loves ME. Today I vow to be more patient when he is pushing my buttons - as only he knows how. Because I know five minutes after, he will be making me laugh at some silly comment he's made. Thank you for all the joy he has brought to our lives. It's a joy I never knew existed - but YOU did.
Now, for all you mothers out there, you will understand what was going through my mind at first: "**it! How am I supposed to take care of myself and him? Why can't I just be sick? I just want to pull the covers over my head!" Don't lie - you have all been there! So, to say I was feeling a tad negative about the situation would be putting it mildly. I was even a bit irritated at Alex - as if it was his fault. And unfortunately, he could tell, and that made me feel terrible. I was expecting him to get crabby back at me but what he did next really turned the day around.
I was lying on the couch, he came over, put his arms around me and said "It's okay Mommy. Since we're both sick, we can take care of each other. I'll give you love and you can give me love." Yep, that's my son. The 'glass is half full kinda guy'. To counteract my tendency to be the 'glass if half empty kinda gal'. I posted something about this on Facebook yesterday but I've been thinking about it ever since and had to share what's been going through my mind.
As we wasted part of the day away, Alex was watching cartoons in one room and I was watching reruns of 'Sex in the City' in the other. It was an episode where one of the characters, Charlotte, found out that she and her husband would be adopting a baby from China. They had been through fertility treatments, suffered miscarriages and had one family pull out of an adoption. So, it was with great excitement that they found out God would finally be giving them a baby. Charlotte looked at the picture that came in their package and said "That's our baby. I just know it."
Now maybe it was cause I was exhausted and feeling wonky, but my eyes filled up with tears. Yes, I've watched that scene at least 20 times before, but yesterday it hit me in a different way. It made me think back to Matt's and my difficulties with having a baby. The months of not getting pregnant, then the miscarriages, then the fertility treatments that didn't work. I remember the frustration and hurt and pain of not understanding God's plan. I've since learned a lot about why He allowed us to go through those times and yesterday I realized another.
Alex was meant to be our child. God knew that he would be exactly what I needed. That I would need a child that made me laugh, that is silly, fun, caring, loving , cuddly and most important: positive. That there would be days that he would be the one to show me the glass was half full, not empty. That he would get me to look at things in a completely different way. That he would get me to embrace life in ways I hadn't before. And during the days when I was really sick, he gave me the push to keep going and keep fighting.
So, today God, I thank you for your perfect plan. I thank you that all along you knew just the right child to complete our family. Thank you for his giggle, his smiles, his hugs, his sense of humor, the way he loves life, you, his friends, his family, and mostly, the way he loves ME. Today I vow to be more patient when he is pushing my buttons - as only he knows how. Because I know five minutes after, he will be making me laugh at some silly comment he's made. Thank you for all the joy he has brought to our lives. It's a joy I never knew existed - but YOU did.
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Danger of the rumor mill
When I was in college, there was a rumor that went around that my sister's boyfriend (now husband) was part of the mob. His last name is Gamb and someone told someone else that it was short for Gambini - the notorious Italian mob family. Needless to say, it was completely untrue and totally ridiculous. But it took off for awhile and was quite an embarrassment to him, his family and my sister. Luckily, with time, it went away after awhile. But the damage was done....some people to this day believe that it just might be true. See, that's the thing about rumors. Once they are told, they can never be taken back. And they don't just hurt one person; it's like a ripple effect. This particular one was about my brother-in-law, but it effected not just him but several other people as well.
I was thinking about this story last night because of something Matt said to me. I was having a moment of frustration due to a rumor that had been started about me several months ago. As always the voice of reason, he told me not to worry about the few people that believed it and to put it out of my head. I told him it was easy for him to say since the rumor wasn't about him and it didn't effect him. He got irritated, rightly so, and told me it DID effect him because he was the one who had to deal with me when I was upset about it. Later on I thought about it more and I realized that it effected him in more ways than just that. If someone stated that I was a liar, then he would have to be one too. Since he lives with me and knows everything about me, if I was lying about something important, he would have to be just as untruthful. And that got me really frustrated; it's upsetting enough to have people say something about yourself, but your husband....well that's a whole other ball of wax. Say something about my hubby and it REALLY gets my back up.
Then I started thinking how this has also effected Alex. Due to the whole situation, he has lost a couple play mates and he's old enough to ask why. And I don't really know what to tell him so I just change the subject the best I can. Luckily he is blessed to have a ton of little friends so it hasn't impacted him too much, but it's still bothersome when he asks "why don't I play with so-and-so anymore?"
Then there are the friends who have inadvertently been caught in the middle and for them I feel sorry as well. I never want people to have to take sides and I hate that some have felt they have to. I only hope that if a friend hears this rumor being told that they would just change the subject so it's not repeated in their presence.
So, what's the moral of the story? Please, please, please think before you tell a story about someone else. Ask yourself: "am I 100% sure what I'm about to tell is the truth?", "is what I'm about to share going to bring someone up or tear them down?", "will this story effect a child?" and lastly "am I sharing this story because I've been hurt and want to hurt someone else?"
I won't begin to claim that I have never been involved in the gossip mill....I know for a fact that I have shared stories that I didn't know we're 100% true, that tore someone else down, that effected a child involved in the situation and that was told simply to hurt another individual. Am I proud of those things? Definitely not...especially now being on the other side. I know now how much it hurts, how frustrating it is to straighten out and how many people can be effected. It has given me a perspective I never had before...and maybe one I needed.
So, next time you feel like sharing a story you heard from a friend of a friend of a friend....please don't. You have no idea how far it will spread and how many people could be hurt. It's just not worth it. And just think, one of those people being effected could end up being someone you really care about.
Thanks for reading. God bless and Happy Easter!
I was thinking about this story last night because of something Matt said to me. I was having a moment of frustration due to a rumor that had been started about me several months ago. As always the voice of reason, he told me not to worry about the few people that believed it and to put it out of my head. I told him it was easy for him to say since the rumor wasn't about him and it didn't effect him. He got irritated, rightly so, and told me it DID effect him because he was the one who had to deal with me when I was upset about it. Later on I thought about it more and I realized that it effected him in more ways than just that. If someone stated that I was a liar, then he would have to be one too. Since he lives with me and knows everything about me, if I was lying about something important, he would have to be just as untruthful. And that got me really frustrated; it's upsetting enough to have people say something about yourself, but your husband....well that's a whole other ball of wax. Say something about my hubby and it REALLY gets my back up.
Then I started thinking how this has also effected Alex. Due to the whole situation, he has lost a couple play mates and he's old enough to ask why. And I don't really know what to tell him so I just change the subject the best I can. Luckily he is blessed to have a ton of little friends so it hasn't impacted him too much, but it's still bothersome when he asks "why don't I play with so-and-so anymore?"
Then there are the friends who have inadvertently been caught in the middle and for them I feel sorry as well. I never want people to have to take sides and I hate that some have felt they have to. I only hope that if a friend hears this rumor being told that they would just change the subject so it's not repeated in their presence.
So, what's the moral of the story? Please, please, please think before you tell a story about someone else. Ask yourself: "am I 100% sure what I'm about to tell is the truth?", "is what I'm about to share going to bring someone up or tear them down?", "will this story effect a child?" and lastly "am I sharing this story because I've been hurt and want to hurt someone else?"
I won't begin to claim that I have never been involved in the gossip mill....I know for a fact that I have shared stories that I didn't know we're 100% true, that tore someone else down, that effected a child involved in the situation and that was told simply to hurt another individual. Am I proud of those things? Definitely not...especially now being on the other side. I know now how much it hurts, how frustrating it is to straighten out and how many people can be effected. It has given me a perspective I never had before...and maybe one I needed.
So, next time you feel like sharing a story you heard from a friend of a friend of a friend....please don't. You have no idea how far it will spread and how many people could be hurt. It's just not worth it. And just think, one of those people being effected could end up being someone you really care about.
Thanks for reading. God bless and Happy Easter!
Monday, April 14, 2014
Necessary reminder
Do you ever have one of those nights? One where you tell yourself over and over it doesn't matter what someone else thinks, but deep down it hurts your feelings? You remind yourself that your focus needs to ONLY be on the people that love and care for you, NOT on those that don't. But it's almost like an alcoholic longing for a drink and trying so hard to resist. Tonight is kind of like my "relapse".
See, I just found out that a friend, well, more like an acquaintance, has de-friended AND blocked me on Facebook. She had made a comment awhile back about wanting off my "crazy train", but I thought she was kidding. Guess she wasn't.....And even though my sweet hubby reminded me (and I agreed with him) that those are the people I shouldn't worry about.....well, I've been worrying about it. I started to let it get me down. And then it reminded me of the few people that had doubted my cancer "story" and how some of those people I still see. And I started going down the path to: how many people out there don't like me?
That's how the mind can work - you learn of one person who isn't on your side and you start thinking maybe she's right. Maybe I AM too much to handle....I mean, the word "craziness" is in the title of this blog. Maybe after all my updates for two years while I was sick, there are people who are just, well, sick and tired of me. Maybe I'd be a bit "over me" too if I was in their shoes. I am someone who notices all the weird things around me and I love to share those stories. Maybe that annoys some people. So, I start to wonder if I need to tailor that, change myself.
And then I hear the voice of a dear, dear friend (not just an acquaintance) who told me how much she'd missed me when I took a break from Facebook. How she felt like she didn't know what was going on and therefore couldn't share those stories with her husband. And another friend who told me I'd been missed on that same break. And another who said she'd missed the devotionals I would post. And another who said she had missed the silly "Alexisms" I'd share.
And all this has got me thinking: maybe I'm just one of those people who you either love or hate. I don't think there's any middle ground. Either you love my crazy, silly, sometimes-emotional, always-heartfelt updates OR they drive you crazy. And maybe at almost 41 years old, maybe it's time that I learned to accept that. Maybe it's time that I'm okay with just letting people go if I drive them nuts and embrace the ones who love me enough to put up with me. It's okay to admit that I'm a handful....but after giving it some thought, I think I'm a pretty awesome handful.
So, if there's anyone today, or recently, who has walked out of your life, just let them go, like I've had to do. If that person doesn't want to fully embrace who you are, that's okay. There are plenty of people in your life already that will. And there might even be someone right around the corner who has yet to learn how incredible you are. So, don't hold back - just be your normal, awesome self! Cause if you're reading this, I think you're pretty darn cool!
Thanks for being part of my life and all it's craziness. 😀💜🌻
See, I just found out that a friend, well, more like an acquaintance, has de-friended AND blocked me on Facebook. She had made a comment awhile back about wanting off my "crazy train", but I thought she was kidding. Guess she wasn't.....And even though my sweet hubby reminded me (and I agreed with him) that those are the people I shouldn't worry about.....well, I've been worrying about it. I started to let it get me down. And then it reminded me of the few people that had doubted my cancer "story" and how some of those people I still see. And I started going down the path to: how many people out there don't like me?
That's how the mind can work - you learn of one person who isn't on your side and you start thinking maybe she's right. Maybe I AM too much to handle....I mean, the word "craziness" is in the title of this blog. Maybe after all my updates for two years while I was sick, there are people who are just, well, sick and tired of me. Maybe I'd be a bit "over me" too if I was in their shoes. I am someone who notices all the weird things around me and I love to share those stories. Maybe that annoys some people. So, I start to wonder if I need to tailor that, change myself.
And then I hear the voice of a dear, dear friend (not just an acquaintance) who told me how much she'd missed me when I took a break from Facebook. How she felt like she didn't know what was going on and therefore couldn't share those stories with her husband. And another friend who told me I'd been missed on that same break. And another who said she'd missed the devotionals I would post. And another who said she had missed the silly "Alexisms" I'd share.
And all this has got me thinking: maybe I'm just one of those people who you either love or hate. I don't think there's any middle ground. Either you love my crazy, silly, sometimes-emotional, always-heartfelt updates OR they drive you crazy. And maybe at almost 41 years old, maybe it's time that I learned to accept that. Maybe it's time that I'm okay with just letting people go if I drive them nuts and embrace the ones who love me enough to put up with me. It's okay to admit that I'm a handful....but after giving it some thought, I think I'm a pretty awesome handful.
So, if there's anyone today, or recently, who has walked out of your life, just let them go, like I've had to do. If that person doesn't want to fully embrace who you are, that's okay. There are plenty of people in your life already that will. And there might even be someone right around the corner who has yet to learn how incredible you are. So, don't hold back - just be your normal, awesome self! Cause if you're reading this, I think you're pretty darn cool!
Thanks for being part of my life and all it's craziness. 😀💜🌻
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
God's story, my journey
My speech for the Cancer Support Group in February (Please be warned that this is very long since I'm scheduled to speak for half an hour. Most of this you have already heard, so don't feel the need to read. But if you choose to, I'm up for any feedback. Am I giving too much detail, not enough detail? Am I being too matter-of-fact? Am I letting God's light shine through? Thank you.
"I stand before you tonight, not to share MY story, but to share God's story. Because ultimately it is all about Him. I may have walked the journey, but it was all His plan and He knew just how it would end.
It all began in December 2011. There had been three celebrities in the news, under 40, who had been diagnosed with breast cancer. My husband and I talked about how I needed to get a mammogram. Not because there was any worry, but my company pays for one a year and we decided "better safe than sorry". I wanted to put it off until the New Year because of Christmas coming up, but one day I woke up and thought I'd rather just get it out of the way. The day I went, I had no concerns. Not a one....which in itself is odd because I can worry about ANYTHING. But I have no family history and I couldn't feel any lumps that were out of the ordinary. So, I booked an early appointment, got it out of the way and went on to work.
Two days later, my doctor's office called to ask me to go in for a second mammogram. They assured me repeatedly that it was just a bad picture, there were lots of shadows and it was probably because of my fibrocystic breast disease that they couldn't tell what were cysts and what might be a lump. So, again, I really didn't worry. I scheduled another appointment for that week, went in early and was back to work before 8:30.
Two days later, another phone call. This time I detected a bit of stress in the nurse's voice. She said they had found something a bit "off" and wanted me to go in for an ultrasound. She mentioned an MRI at that point, but had already checked with my insurance company and they required an ultrasound first. So, again we got that scheduled and I went in for the test. By this point, you may be wondering: is she going by herself? Isn't she getting worried? Honestly, I think at the beginning I was in serious denial. My son had a lot of health issues and I just kept telling myself that God wouldn't
put this on my shoulders as well. And if I invited anyone to join me for the tests, that would be admitting that I was nervous. I felt early on that I had to hold it all together on my own or I would really lose control.
So, we did the ultrasound and as I'm sure you can figure out by this point, it came back positive and the next step was the MRI. We were leaving for Houston, TX for Christmas any day and I was given the decision to have the test before or wait until I got back. I decided to have it done before we left, but I wouldn't get the results until after the first of the year. This means that I spent Christmas with our whole family and didn't say a word. Looking back, it was a terrible decision. I'm not good AT ALL about keeping secrets, so everyone could tell I was out of sorts, but didn't know why. And my husband caught the worst of it. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was taking out all my worry and nerves out on him. Subconsciously, I wanted him to know what I was dealing with, even though I hadn't told him the first thing. So very unfair to him. And one of the things I regret the most about this journey.
We get back from a not so very fun Christmas because I was on edge the whole time and the first message I got was I needed the MRI. And they wanted to do it ASAP - on a Saturday of all days. This meant I finally had to tell my husband since I didn't want to make up a lie where I was going. I also needed him to stay with our son, so me keeping it a secret was no longer an option. I convinced him I was fine, didn't need him to go with me, it was just a precaution (even though I wasn't lying to him, I could continue lying to myself) and I'd be back in a couple hours. I went, did the test and waited TWO WHOLE WEEKS. What a nightmare those weeks were. I was still dealing with a sick child, work, normal life and trying my HARDEST to keep my mind off of the phone call I wasn't getting.
January 16th the call came when I was at work right before a big presentation I had to give. There was a lump, they were pretty sure it was malignant and they needed to do a biopsy. I went ice cold, told them I was about to walk into a meeting and would have to deal with this later. The nurse told me we needed to get the biopsy scheduled and I told her I just didn't have time for that. I said I would call her back the next day when there was room in my very busy schedule. I walked into my meeting, gave my presentation, sat and listened to everyone else for three LOOOOONNNNNGGGG hours then went to the bathroom and cried my eyes out. It was then that I started with all the questions: how was I going to juggle this with work? How was I going to handle a sick child if I was also sick? What would my insurance cover? Would I need chemotherapy? Would I lose my hair? I hadn't even had the biopsy yet, but I knew the answer already. I knew it was bad. Which is why I waited a FULL week before I called that nurse back. I know it was irresponsible and a bit childish, but I just couldn't make myself pick up the phone. I felt that the longer I put it off, I didn't have to deal with the consequences. Until I finally decided to pull up my big girl panties and start facing what was to come.
January 27th, 2012 I went in for my biopsy. Still by myself. I couldn't let go of that mantra "I'm fine until I admit that I'm not fine." It was a simple procedure with only local anesthetic and I was done in less than an hour. The hard part for me wasn't the test, but the waiting to hear back. Since that was a Friday, I knew that I'd have to wait at least the whole weekend to hear back. That following Monday I had to go out of town for work, so I worried about hearing back while I was away from home. And that fear came to fruition. February 2, 2012 I was out to dinner with my boss and co-workers when my cell phone rang. Under normal circumstances, I would never have taken the call, but I grabbed it and walked out the door. The look on my boss' face was priceless....it's odd to me how I still remember that day.
The call was pretty quick. The doctor told me I did in fact have cancer, but we caught it early and it was only Stage I. She said as soon as I was back in town, we needed to get together and come up with a plan. A plan.....I couldn't even wrap my head around planning something like this. I said okay....that was the only word I could say: okay. Each thing she told me, that's all I could say in response. Okay. You have breast cancer - okay. We think we caught it early - okay. It's stage I - okay. I need to see you as soon as you're back - okay. How are you holding up? I'm okay. I told her I needed to get back to my dinner and would have to continue this conversation at a later date. I walked back into the restaurant and acted like everything was fine. And continued that act for the next two days while we were in meetings.
When I called my husband the night of the diagnosis, I told him the same thing: I'm okay. I assured him it would be fine. I said it was caught very early and was really not that big of a deal. I SOOOOOOOOOO badly wanted to seem strong for him. I wanted him to be proud of me for how brave I was being. I didn't want to fall apart and force him to pick up the pieces. I decided I would show him what a tough woman he was married to. Looking back, I think that phone call was another big mistake of mine. I wish I hadn't held on to my emotions like I did. I wish I had let myself fall apart. Because I had set myself up to continue this "act" for the duration of my illness. I had started on the train of "I'm fine" and never could figure out how to get off. And that put far too much pressure on me, caused a lot of confusion for the people around me and created some walls that I didn't need to have up at such a rough time. But I had no one but myself to blame.
When I got back from Chattanooga, I went to see my doctor and she explained that a lumpectomy was the best bet, but we would do chemotherapy FIRST before removing the lump to hopefully reduce the size. The less tissue removed, the less visable change to my breast. Sounded like a great plan to me. I was still naive in thinking that it really mattered what my breasts would look like afterwards. Keep in mind, at this time, I was still considered Stage I so I wasn't even thinking of death as a possibility. I was just trying to figure out logistically how to fit all this into my normal life.
I was so afraid of losing my job and therefore my insurance that I didn't say anything to my boss or co-workers. I had missed a lot of time caring for my son and I was so afraid that my boss was going to get fed up with me and find a way to eliminate my job. I know this is technically illegal, but I work for a large corporation and I've seen them find ways to get rid of jobs when someone was sick. There are laws to protect employees, but there are also plenty of ways to work around them. Threfore, I spent the first six months to a year of my disease keeping it a secret from everyone where I worked.
Once chemo started, this was a bit more difficult, but luckily my boss traveled a lot and I scheduled my treatments around his schedule. I would go Monday mornings when he was normally on a plane, be gone just a few hours and then come right into work. I was determined to act as normal as possible. I have no idea what people thought at the beginning since I would get to work pale and spend a lot of time running to the bathroom. But they didn't ask and I wasn't telling. I had my game face on and I wasn't letting it slip for a second. I felt like if I let that mask down, then I would completely fall apart.
And this is why I went to chemo by myself. Yes, I know you will be asking yourself "why would she do that"? and I have a few reasons. First of all, I was still stuck on "I don't want people to see me as weak." I didn't want to be seen as the "sick" girl who needed all kinds of attention. Secondly, at this point, my son was still sick himself and I was focusing all my energy on him. I wasn't allowing myself to admit that I was in need of help - it was my job as his mother to keep it all together for him. He is a very persceptive child and I was doing EVERYTHING in my power to not let him see anything was wrong or different with Mommy. Act like everything is fine and it will be - that was my motto. Thirdly, all of my life, my own Mother was sick and it was my role to take care of her. Since I've been on my own, it's been my purpose to show the world that I'm NOT like my mother. So, I went to the other extreme. I wasn't going to ask for help, I wasn't going to let people see me as sick, I wasn't going to leave the house looking like I had cancer. I was going to be tough as nails, even if it killed me. And I think if I had kept that up, it probably would have. Looking back now, I really regret letting my past dictate how I handled this disease. I missed out on a LOT of help that would have made life a lot easier. But hindsight is 20-20.
Fastforwarding a bit, we did the chemo, it shrunk the tumor and we moved ahead to the lumpectomy. Initially the tests showed that the cancer had NOT spread to my lymph nodes, so there was a lot of celebration. However, I have since learned that initial tests are not always the most accurate. A few days after surgery, I got a call that the cancer had in fact moved into the lymph nodes. There was talk of going back under the knife, but the same day I got the call, I learned I had a blood clot that had traveled to my lungs. I have a blood clotting disorder, so this was a concern from the beginning. Luckily, I had an amazing doctor who recognized my symptoms immediately and got me into her office and on medication ASAP. But this meant no surgery until the clot had resolved itself. So this meant more chemotherapy. Six more weeks of being sick and tired and hiding it as much as I could. During this round of treatments, my son had some major surgery so I had to take a break for a couple weeks to care for him. Luckily, his surgery was a huge success and finally he was on the road to recovery. This meant Mommy could focus on just her illness. Well, as much as mothers ever do.
After the second round of chemo, we did more tests but the blood levels were showing there was still cancer in my body. Let me go back a bit. My cancer was progesterone based and also fed by HER-2. In layman's terms, this makes the cancer spread easier. These are the levels that were constantly being watched. And also why we did Chemo first instead of radiation. They were using chemotherapy specifically targeted for the HER-2 gene. Since we had done two rounds of the IV chemo and there was high levels still remaining, we switched to a pill form of chemo and moved on to radiation focused on the lymph node area. For those who say radiation is easier than chemo, at least for me, that was a big huge lie. I was so completely drained and beyond exhausted. There were days I didn't know how I kept my head up, but still I went to work. I did the radiation every day for three weeks. Longest three weeks of my life.
Fast forward to the end of that and we were faced with a difficult decision. My blood clot had resolved itself so we could start looking at surgical options. We had tried everything else, but now it was time to discuss a mastectomy.To say this was the LAST thing I wanted to do is putting it mildly. I couldn't figure out the logistics with my job, my son, everything around the house, etc, etc. My husband owns his own business so him taking time off to care for me was not in the cards. Also, all of my family lives in FL and the only family close by are my in-laws. It just seemed a lot to ask of two people. But I had tried and tried everything else and it was time to face the facts. We needed to do it and no amount of postponing was going to help things. So, May 7, 2012 was the scheduled day. The Wednesday before I went for a PET scan to make sure they didn't find cancer anywhere else. And this is where the story takes a big turn. I've tried to speed through the details to get to right here because THIS is where God came in.
When I got to the hospital for the PET scan, they were running behind so I went to sit in the chapel to pray. While sitting in there, I noticed an older gentleman off to the side. He got up, walked towards me and asked if he could sit with me. I really wasn't up for company, but I had no idea how to say no. I simply nodded and he took the space to my left. There was no idle chit chat; the first words out of his mouth were: "they aren't going to find anything." I whipped my head towards him and said "what are you talking about????" He simply repeated the words. I just looked at him with my mouth open for what felt like ten minutes but was probably 10 seconds. I said "I'm not sure what you're talking about, but they have already found something. They are just going to see if they find anything else." He said "No, dear. They are not going to find anything. Where there once was something, it will be gone. There will be nothing there. And they won't find anything new." He then placed his hand on my left arm and said "Young lady, you have been healed" and I felt the oddest sensation run from the spot where he'd touched me through my whole body. Like an electric current. While I just sat there in stunned silence, he got up and started to walk away. It took me a second, but I turned around to ask him more questions, but he was gone. There's no way he'd had time to walk out; it was like he had simply vanished. Or had he ever really been there? Time would tell.
I sat in silence for about half an hour until I realized it was time for my scan. I did the scan without sharing the story and then went on about my day. My doctor told me I would hear something from her the next day. However, Thursday came and went. Friday morning came and went. I had no idea what this meant. Until I got the call at 1:22 pm that Friday afternoon. The doctor began by apologizing for not calling me back sooner but there had been something strange with my PET scan. Initially I was scared, but she went on to explain it was something good strange, not bad. She explained that the lump in my breast (the part they hadn't been able to get when they did the lumpectomy) was completely gone. She also told me that they area that had been cut out (where it should show a gray shadow since it would be a hollow area) was completely filled in. It was as if nothing had ever been removed. She also told me that all my blood work had come back COMPLETELY NORMAL. The HER-2 level was zero and all other tests showed zero traces of cancer in my body. She said the delay in getting back to me was because she had 8 radiologists study the scan. None of them could give a scientific reason for the way it looked - and of course they wouldn't use the word, but I knew it was a miracle. The doctor said that she no longer advised a double mastectomy given what the scan showed. She wanted to schedule another biopsy on the lymph nodes, but she didn't see the need for surgery at that time.
I was at work when I got the call and I was ecstatic. Over the moon. I ran over to a few friends that I had told and made such a ruckus that others had to ask me to quiet down. I couldn't help myself. I had been healed by one of God's angels and I wanted to tell the world. I couldn't call my husband and other family members fast enough. I hadn't been that excited since I found out I was pregnant with my son. If I could do a cartwheel, I would have done them down the hallway. If the windows of our office building opened, I would have screamed out "I've been healed." It was such an amazing feeling, knowing that God had stepped in and saved me. And I carried that elation around for the next three months. Until we took a major step backwards.
Like my doctor requested, we did a biopsy on the lymph nodes that had originally shown the cancer the Monday after her call and the results came back completely clear. It was further proof that God's hand was all over this. This was HIS plan and I was just along for the ride. I thought this meant that we were all clear and my breast cancer was now a thing of the past. I started to use the "r word (remission) and my doctor cautioned against that. She said I would go back in three months for follow up tests and we would see at that point. I thought she was just being extra cautious and trying to kill my buzz. But I wouldn't be deterred - I was healed!
Which is why the next round of test results hit me so hard. I wasn't prepared for the bad news that we received. It was back. But how? Why? Why would God heal me in such a miraculous way only to allow the cancer to return? And it was back with a vengeance. In the short three months, the HER-2 levels had gone through the roof and there was a pretty large tumor in the OTHER breast. It had to have moved through the lymph node system. My immediate question was: should we have done the mastectomy? Did we make a terrible mistake? She responded that even if we had removed the breasts, since it was in the lymph nodes, we would have had the same fight on our hands. Removing the breast tissue would not have eliminated the major issue. Either the last biopsy had missed it or God had let it return. Neither was something I understood. The way I viewed it, someone screwed up, and screwed up BIG time or God was really messing with me. To allow me to have such a high and then bring me back down so low. I just didn't get it at all.
Since the cancer had spread and the tumor was larger and we were dealing with the lymph nodes, we had taken a HUGE step backwards into Stage III. Stage III is MUCH scarier than Stage I. Even seeing it on the screen looks scary to me. All I knew is we were in for a MUCH bigger fight. A fight that I wasn't prepared for. My body was still a bit worn out from the first go around and emotionally I just could't pull myself together. I would just sit in a room for hours, after everyone was asleep, asking "Why". And hearing nothing back from God. If ever I have wanted to give up, it was that day in August.
We started chemotherapy right away and this time I had to let my boss in on the news. I tried to share as little as possible, but I couldn't be gone from the office anymore without being noticed. I won't go into all the details here, but from August 2012 until November 2013, I was fighting for my life. Literally, without exaggeration. We did chemo, then scans, then more chemo, more scans, blood work galore, another biopsy, PET scans (when my insurance would allow), IV treatments for low potassium, dehydration, shots for low white blood count, shots to increase red blood count, antibiotics to ward off infection, etc, etc. You all have been there in different ways - you can imagine the fight. And that's what it was - a fight. My doctor threatened to hospitalize me several times so I could just get some rest, but I never sleep in hospitals and I wasn't having any part of it. I told her to treat me anyway she could, but I wanted to be at home with my family. They were what was keeping me sane and I needed to see my baby's face at night.
This battle continued from August 2012 until June 2013. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse - they did. I got a call that the HER-2 levels were continuing to rise no matter what we did and the latest PET scan showed that the tumor had grown, despite the 36 treatments of chemo. And worst of all, they could see several tumors in the lymph nodes in the middle of my chest, right below my breast bone. This was bad, really bad. They offered to get me spiritual counseling and told me I needed to make sure I had a will and had my affairs in order. We were now looking at Stage IV. I was advised Stage IV doesn't have a cure - you can fight it and keep it at bay, but it will never go away. I thanked the doctor for her offer of counseling, but I told her I had a pastor of my own and would reach out to him.
Luckily that night we had an event at church and everyone in attendance prayed over me. It was one of the most moving experiences I've ever had. The love I felt that night for not only me, but my family, was overwhelming. To know that a room full of people were praying at the same time for God to heal me, well, I can't put into words my appreciation. I'll never be able to repay that love and support. There were times over the next several months that I wished I could return to that moment of peace, love and happiness.
I wish I could say that after that night, I got good news and I was in the all clear. But things just kept getting worse. Every phone call had more bad news. Every test result showed something else wrong. There was more surgery to remove the affected lymph nodes in the center of my chest, but the margins weren't clear. They hadn't gotten them all. They could go back in, but there were no promises that they would ever get them all. It was like a spiderweb was just spreading through me. And after that surgery, my body just wasn't in a place to go right back for more. My thyroid, adrenals, white blood count, immune system - basically everything was taking a hit. They didn't know how much more my body would be able to handle.
In addition to the physical, I felt like I was losing some friends in the process of it all. I could understand on one hand - I knew it was wearing me down, so how long could I expect other people to keep hanging on with me? Also, I had a few people questioning how I was handling the cancer fight. I had chosen to keep a blog and a Facebook page so I could keep everyone updated. But this also allowed me NOT to have to talk about it when I was just hanging with my friends. It was critical to me that I not spend my whole life talking about my disease. I DESPERATELY needed that time to just be ME, not ME with cancer. But some people didn't get that. They didn't understand why I wasn't talking about it more, why I didn't let people go with me to treatments. They felt like I was shutting them out.
Many of you here tonight may understand the tightrope I was walking. I had some friends say I was sharing TOO much, expecting TOO much, being TOO needy. So I would pull way back. Then I would have friends say I wasn't letting them in, I wasn't accepting their help, I wasn't keeping them filled in. I was all over the map trying to please this group of people, then trying to please the other group of people. Until I realized NO ONE was happy - especially me. Here I was trying to fight STAGE IV CANCER and I was worried about how everyone around me felt. I was so worried about hurting people's feelings that I was using up very precious energy that should have gone towards my health. But I couldn't seem to stop worrying. I just had this fear that if I DID beat cancer again, I was going to be left with no friends. That I was alienating everyone around me with how I was handling things.
This inner battle went on for FAR too long until two key things happened. One was my husband pointing out that we could find a new church, make new friends, move to a new city, but as long as I was still alive and it was the three of us as a family, that was ALL that mattered. I heard him and I KNEW he was right, but it took a couple more weeks before I was able to put it into practice. The second key occurrence was speaking with an old pastor from our last church. He pointed out to me that maybe God was trying to get me to lean SOLELY on Him. I was trying to get my support from family, co-workers and friends instead of leaning on God. And the more I became desperate about losing my friends, the more it seemed He was pulling me away from them. And I didn't know why. Until that pastor told me: God is making it so you have NO choice but to lean on him. And the longer it was going to take me, the more I was going to lose. See, I'm not very smart at times, but God wasn't giving up on me. He was DESPERATELY trying to teach ME something and I just wasn't getting it. Until that day I did.
I decided I needed to pull waaaaayyyyyy back from everyone and spend time with my God. I needed to take that time I was obsessing over "why is this person mad at me" and spend it with Him. I needed to be reading my Bible instead of Facebook posts. I needed to be praying instead of texting. I won't say it was an easy few weeks, but it's what I had to do to find some inner peace.
It was around this time that I had another scan that showed the lump still in my right breast. No matter what we were doing, it wasn't working. We were at a serious crossroads. I felt like the doctors were starting to give up - NOT because they didn't care, but because we had tried SOOOOO much, far more than I've even listed here. And nothing was working. I started wondering if I was supposed to be accepting the end. Was it going to be my time? I wasn't scared to die because I knew where I was going, but I was scared about the husband and child I would leave behind. Would they be okay without me? I was trying to convince myself they would be, but I just couldn't get there.
Three weeks after the last scan, we got approval for another PET scan. To put things into perspective, we didn't do any treatments during those weeks. The PET scan was again looking to see if it had spread anywhere else. The doctors were really worried at this point about it being in an organ or having metastasized to my bones. By this point I was really prepared for more bad news - it's all we'd been getting for so long. I could never have imagined what my doctor would call to say next. Because it was another miracle.
I wasn't at all prepared for anything good, since like I'd said earlier, the last several months were just full of bad news, worse news and terrible news. So, when my doctor said the cancer was gone, I really didn't understand what she was saying. I thought maybe I was hallucinating and just reliving the phone call from a year and a half ago. Gone? Again? What? How? She stated that not only didn't they find anything on the PET scan but the area in the lymph nodes and in my right breast were gone. There was nothing there at all. It was very surreal to me. I mean, who gets one miracle, let alone two? And we'd been down this road before, so how could I trust that this time that it was real. She and I both agreed that we needed to re-do all the tests, blood work, basically anything we could do. We needed to be ABSOLUTELY sure that we weren't missing anything this time. Of course, we had to get this past my insurance company. They had already covered so much and I didn't know how we'd convince them to cover more scans and tests so soon after this last round. Luckily, I work at the insurance company and I have a liason through the HR department who went to bat for me. My doctor got involved, along with my case manager at the Cancer Treatment Center, explained what we'd been through before and somehow, by the grace of God, got them to approve another PET scan to make sure nothing had been missed. A few days later I went in for the scan and they took 10 vials of blood to make sure they were checking everything possible. We also did two biopsies (on the lymph node area and the right breast) to double check. I just knew I didn't want to go through this again.
November 15, 2013 I got the call. EVERYTHING WAS CLEAR! Not a drop of cancer was found. There was no explanation other than another miracle. It took several days for my brain to grasp but all I could imagine is God wanted me to FINALLY, for the first time in my 40 years, depend SOLELY on Him. He wanted me to lean on him for all my support - not look to friends, family, co-workers, husband, son, etc.
I've had several people tell me it's very hard to believe, and I agree. There are days I still don't believe it myself. I've had a couple people question why I deserve two miracles. My answer is: I don't. I am no more special than any person in this room. And for about two weeks I wrestled with that. Was I worthy? How do I show people that I was worth saving? Why me when I knew of other women who had lost their battle? Now that I was healthy again, what was I going to do with my life? It had to be something incredibly meaningful to show God my appreciation. I even spent a couple days really doubting God - thinking he'd made the wrong decision. As much as a miracle is a major blessing, for a little while, it felt like a ton of pressure. Like I had to prove to the world that I was good enough, special enough to deserve this.
Then it finally hit me - this wasn't MY plan. It was GOD'S. And who was I to question God. I still can't explain why I have been healed for a second time. And I have no guarantees when I go back for my three month check up that they won't find anything again. All I do know is that I have my utmost faith in God. He can handle whatever comes next. And I now know that He is my rock - not all the people around me. Because friends and family are human too - they aren't perfect. And they may not always be able to give you what you want or what you need. But God can. All He asks is that you turn to Him, lean on Him and take the support and love He offers.
To wrap up my long and crazy story, what have I learned from my battle with cancer? First of all, I would tell anyone who has been newly diagnosed, DO NOT START OUT SAYING YOU'RE FINE! You're not fine! NO ONE with cancer is fine. You WILL need help and support and if you start out your journey telling people around you that you're okay, they will start to believe you and not be there when you REALLY need them.
Secondly, take whatever help is offered. Even if it's NOT what you think you need, if someone is offering a meal or a ride to the doctor or to help with your kids, they WANT to do it. And the more you turn them down, the less they will offer in the future.
Third, tell people what you need/want. If people are offering help, but it's not the help you really need, SPEAK UP. And if they don't seem to understand, SPEAK UP again. People may THINK they know what you need, but it's your battle and you may have to "educate" them about what YOU actually need.
Fourth, don't hold the emotions in. LET THEM OUT. Trying to hold them in only causes them to come out at very odd times, which may lead friends and family to think you're a bit crazy. Losing your cool over getting a regular coke vs a diet coke might not make sense. But if you tell them you're scared, worried, terrified, afraid, sick to death of being sick, lonely, sad, etc - these are things people can understand. Just be honest. The people who care about you REALLY want to know how you are.
Fifth, if you feel you have hurt someone's feelings by the way you are handling your fight, apologize once. Maybe twice if that person really matters to you. If they accept your apology, great. That person is in it for the long haul. If they don't, LET IT GO. You are not responsible for how people react - you are only responsible for yourself. If the person or persons can't forgive you, they are not meant to be part of your life at this stage. Move on and focus on the people who ARE there for you. Focusing your attention on those that don't want to be by your side through this battle only takes away energy from your fight. And it also serves to alienate the people who are right there with you, wanting so badly to help.
Lastly, when you are at complete rock bottom, that is when God will be there to pick you up. Look to Him to lift you up - not anyone else. He wants to help you, He's longing to help you. Give Him that chance. It will be the best decision you'll ever make. And it might be the decision that saves your life.
God bless you all and I will be praying that each of you get YOUR miracles. Because everyone in this room, as a child of God, deserves it."
"I stand before you tonight, not to share MY story, but to share God's story. Because ultimately it is all about Him. I may have walked the journey, but it was all His plan and He knew just how it would end.
It all began in December 2011. There had been three celebrities in the news, under 40, who had been diagnosed with breast cancer. My husband and I talked about how I needed to get a mammogram. Not because there was any worry, but my company pays for one a year and we decided "better safe than sorry". I wanted to put it off until the New Year because of Christmas coming up, but one day I woke up and thought I'd rather just get it out of the way. The day I went, I had no concerns. Not a one....which in itself is odd because I can worry about ANYTHING. But I have no family history and I couldn't feel any lumps that were out of the ordinary. So, I booked an early appointment, got it out of the way and went on to work.
Two days later, my doctor's office called to ask me to go in for a second mammogram. They assured me repeatedly that it was just a bad picture, there were lots of shadows and it was probably because of my fibrocystic breast disease that they couldn't tell what were cysts and what might be a lump. So, again, I really didn't worry. I scheduled another appointment for that week, went in early and was back to work before 8:30.
Two days later, another phone call. This time I detected a bit of stress in the nurse's voice. She said they had found something a bit "off" and wanted me to go in for an ultrasound. She mentioned an MRI at that point, but had already checked with my insurance company and they required an ultrasound first. So, again we got that scheduled and I went in for the test. By this point, you may be wondering: is she going by herself? Isn't she getting worried? Honestly, I think at the beginning I was in serious denial. My son had a lot of health issues and I just kept telling myself that God wouldn't
put this on my shoulders as well. And if I invited anyone to join me for the tests, that would be admitting that I was nervous. I felt early on that I had to hold it all together on my own or I would really lose control.
So, we did the ultrasound and as I'm sure you can figure out by this point, it came back positive and the next step was the MRI. We were leaving for Houston, TX for Christmas any day and I was given the decision to have the test before or wait until I got back. I decided to have it done before we left, but I wouldn't get the results until after the first of the year. This means that I spent Christmas with our whole family and didn't say a word. Looking back, it was a terrible decision. I'm not good AT ALL about keeping secrets, so everyone could tell I was out of sorts, but didn't know why. And my husband caught the worst of it. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was taking out all my worry and nerves out on him. Subconsciously, I wanted him to know what I was dealing with, even though I hadn't told him the first thing. So very unfair to him. And one of the things I regret the most about this journey.
We get back from a not so very fun Christmas because I was on edge the whole time and the first message I got was I needed the MRI. And they wanted to do it ASAP - on a Saturday of all days. This meant I finally had to tell my husband since I didn't want to make up a lie where I was going. I also needed him to stay with our son, so me keeping it a secret was no longer an option. I convinced him I was fine, didn't need him to go with me, it was just a precaution (even though I wasn't lying to him, I could continue lying to myself) and I'd be back in a couple hours. I went, did the test and waited TWO WHOLE WEEKS. What a nightmare those weeks were. I was still dealing with a sick child, work, normal life and trying my HARDEST to keep my mind off of the phone call I wasn't getting.
January 16th the call came when I was at work right before a big presentation I had to give. There was a lump, they were pretty sure it was malignant and they needed to do a biopsy. I went ice cold, told them I was about to walk into a meeting and would have to deal with this later. The nurse told me we needed to get the biopsy scheduled and I told her I just didn't have time for that. I said I would call her back the next day when there was room in my very busy schedule. I walked into my meeting, gave my presentation, sat and listened to everyone else for three LOOOOONNNNNGGGG hours then went to the bathroom and cried my eyes out. It was then that I started with all the questions: how was I going to juggle this with work? How was I going to handle a sick child if I was also sick? What would my insurance cover? Would I need chemotherapy? Would I lose my hair? I hadn't even had the biopsy yet, but I knew the answer already. I knew it was bad. Which is why I waited a FULL week before I called that nurse back. I know it was irresponsible and a bit childish, but I just couldn't make myself pick up the phone. I felt that the longer I put it off, I didn't have to deal with the consequences. Until I finally decided to pull up my big girl panties and start facing what was to come.
January 27th, 2012 I went in for my biopsy. Still by myself. I couldn't let go of that mantra "I'm fine until I admit that I'm not fine." It was a simple procedure with only local anesthetic and I was done in less than an hour. The hard part for me wasn't the test, but the waiting to hear back. Since that was a Friday, I knew that I'd have to wait at least the whole weekend to hear back. That following Monday I had to go out of town for work, so I worried about hearing back while I was away from home. And that fear came to fruition. February 2, 2012 I was out to dinner with my boss and co-workers when my cell phone rang. Under normal circumstances, I would never have taken the call, but I grabbed it and walked out the door. The look on my boss' face was priceless....it's odd to me how I still remember that day.
The call was pretty quick. The doctor told me I did in fact have cancer, but we caught it early and it was only Stage I. She said as soon as I was back in town, we needed to get together and come up with a plan. A plan.....I couldn't even wrap my head around planning something like this. I said okay....that was the only word I could say: okay. Each thing she told me, that's all I could say in response. Okay. You have breast cancer - okay. We think we caught it early - okay. It's stage I - okay. I need to see you as soon as you're back - okay. How are you holding up? I'm okay. I told her I needed to get back to my dinner and would have to continue this conversation at a later date. I walked back into the restaurant and acted like everything was fine. And continued that act for the next two days while we were in meetings.
When I called my husband the night of the diagnosis, I told him the same thing: I'm okay. I assured him it would be fine. I said it was caught very early and was really not that big of a deal. I SOOOOOOOOOO badly wanted to seem strong for him. I wanted him to be proud of me for how brave I was being. I didn't want to fall apart and force him to pick up the pieces. I decided I would show him what a tough woman he was married to. Looking back, I think that phone call was another big mistake of mine. I wish I hadn't held on to my emotions like I did. I wish I had let myself fall apart. Because I had set myself up to continue this "act" for the duration of my illness. I had started on the train of "I'm fine" and never could figure out how to get off. And that put far too much pressure on me, caused a lot of confusion for the people around me and created some walls that I didn't need to have up at such a rough time. But I had no one but myself to blame.
When I got back from Chattanooga, I went to see my doctor and she explained that a lumpectomy was the best bet, but we would do chemotherapy FIRST before removing the lump to hopefully reduce the size. The less tissue removed, the less visable change to my breast. Sounded like a great plan to me. I was still naive in thinking that it really mattered what my breasts would look like afterwards. Keep in mind, at this time, I was still considered Stage I so I wasn't even thinking of death as a possibility. I was just trying to figure out logistically how to fit all this into my normal life.
I was so afraid of losing my job and therefore my insurance that I didn't say anything to my boss or co-workers. I had missed a lot of time caring for my son and I was so afraid that my boss was going to get fed up with me and find a way to eliminate my job. I know this is technically illegal, but I work for a large corporation and I've seen them find ways to get rid of jobs when someone was sick. There are laws to protect employees, but there are also plenty of ways to work around them. Threfore, I spent the first six months to a year of my disease keeping it a secret from everyone where I worked.
Once chemo started, this was a bit more difficult, but luckily my boss traveled a lot and I scheduled my treatments around his schedule. I would go Monday mornings when he was normally on a plane, be gone just a few hours and then come right into work. I was determined to act as normal as possible. I have no idea what people thought at the beginning since I would get to work pale and spend a lot of time running to the bathroom. But they didn't ask and I wasn't telling. I had my game face on and I wasn't letting it slip for a second. I felt like if I let that mask down, then I would completely fall apart.
And this is why I went to chemo by myself. Yes, I know you will be asking yourself "why would she do that"? and I have a few reasons. First of all, I was still stuck on "I don't want people to see me as weak." I didn't want to be seen as the "sick" girl who needed all kinds of attention. Secondly, at this point, my son was still sick himself and I was focusing all my energy on him. I wasn't allowing myself to admit that I was in need of help - it was my job as his mother to keep it all together for him. He is a very persceptive child and I was doing EVERYTHING in my power to not let him see anything was wrong or different with Mommy. Act like everything is fine and it will be - that was my motto. Thirdly, all of my life, my own Mother was sick and it was my role to take care of her. Since I've been on my own, it's been my purpose to show the world that I'm NOT like my mother. So, I went to the other extreme. I wasn't going to ask for help, I wasn't going to let people see me as sick, I wasn't going to leave the house looking like I had cancer. I was going to be tough as nails, even if it killed me. And I think if I had kept that up, it probably would have. Looking back now, I really regret letting my past dictate how I handled this disease. I missed out on a LOT of help that would have made life a lot easier. But hindsight is 20-20.
Fastforwarding a bit, we did the chemo, it shrunk the tumor and we moved ahead to the lumpectomy. Initially the tests showed that the cancer had NOT spread to my lymph nodes, so there was a lot of celebration. However, I have since learned that initial tests are not always the most accurate. A few days after surgery, I got a call that the cancer had in fact moved into the lymph nodes. There was talk of going back under the knife, but the same day I got the call, I learned I had a blood clot that had traveled to my lungs. I have a blood clotting disorder, so this was a concern from the beginning. Luckily, I had an amazing doctor who recognized my symptoms immediately and got me into her office and on medication ASAP. But this meant no surgery until the clot had resolved itself. So this meant more chemotherapy. Six more weeks of being sick and tired and hiding it as much as I could. During this round of treatments, my son had some major surgery so I had to take a break for a couple weeks to care for him. Luckily, his surgery was a huge success and finally he was on the road to recovery. This meant Mommy could focus on just her illness. Well, as much as mothers ever do.
After the second round of chemo, we did more tests but the blood levels were showing there was still cancer in my body. Let me go back a bit. My cancer was progesterone based and also fed by HER-2. In layman's terms, this makes the cancer spread easier. These are the levels that were constantly being watched. And also why we did Chemo first instead of radiation. They were using chemotherapy specifically targeted for the HER-2 gene. Since we had done two rounds of the IV chemo and there was high levels still remaining, we switched to a pill form of chemo and moved on to radiation focused on the lymph node area. For those who say radiation is easier than chemo, at least for me, that was a big huge lie. I was so completely drained and beyond exhausted. There were days I didn't know how I kept my head up, but still I went to work. I did the radiation every day for three weeks. Longest three weeks of my life.
Fast forward to the end of that and we were faced with a difficult decision. My blood clot had resolved itself so we could start looking at surgical options. We had tried everything else, but now it was time to discuss a mastectomy.To say this was the LAST thing I wanted to do is putting it mildly. I couldn't figure out the logistics with my job, my son, everything around the house, etc, etc. My husband owns his own business so him taking time off to care for me was not in the cards. Also, all of my family lives in FL and the only family close by are my in-laws. It just seemed a lot to ask of two people. But I had tried and tried everything else and it was time to face the facts. We needed to do it and no amount of postponing was going to help things. So, May 7, 2012 was the scheduled day. The Wednesday before I went for a PET scan to make sure they didn't find cancer anywhere else. And this is where the story takes a big turn. I've tried to speed through the details to get to right here because THIS is where God came in.
When I got to the hospital for the PET scan, they were running behind so I went to sit in the chapel to pray. While sitting in there, I noticed an older gentleman off to the side. He got up, walked towards me and asked if he could sit with me. I really wasn't up for company, but I had no idea how to say no. I simply nodded and he took the space to my left. There was no idle chit chat; the first words out of his mouth were: "they aren't going to find anything." I whipped my head towards him and said "what are you talking about????" He simply repeated the words. I just looked at him with my mouth open for what felt like ten minutes but was probably 10 seconds. I said "I'm not sure what you're talking about, but they have already found something. They are just going to see if they find anything else." He said "No, dear. They are not going to find anything. Where there once was something, it will be gone. There will be nothing there. And they won't find anything new." He then placed his hand on my left arm and said "Young lady, you have been healed" and I felt the oddest sensation run from the spot where he'd touched me through my whole body. Like an electric current. While I just sat there in stunned silence, he got up and started to walk away. It took me a second, but I turned around to ask him more questions, but he was gone. There's no way he'd had time to walk out; it was like he had simply vanished. Or had he ever really been there? Time would tell.
I sat in silence for about half an hour until I realized it was time for my scan. I did the scan without sharing the story and then went on about my day. My doctor told me I would hear something from her the next day. However, Thursday came and went. Friday morning came and went. I had no idea what this meant. Until I got the call at 1:22 pm that Friday afternoon. The doctor began by apologizing for not calling me back sooner but there had been something strange with my PET scan. Initially I was scared, but she went on to explain it was something good strange, not bad. She explained that the lump in my breast (the part they hadn't been able to get when they did the lumpectomy) was completely gone. She also told me that they area that had been cut out (where it should show a gray shadow since it would be a hollow area) was completely filled in. It was as if nothing had ever been removed. She also told me that all my blood work had come back COMPLETELY NORMAL. The HER-2 level was zero and all other tests showed zero traces of cancer in my body. She said the delay in getting back to me was because she had 8 radiologists study the scan. None of them could give a scientific reason for the way it looked - and of course they wouldn't use the word, but I knew it was a miracle. The doctor said that she no longer advised a double mastectomy given what the scan showed. She wanted to schedule another biopsy on the lymph nodes, but she didn't see the need for surgery at that time.
I was at work when I got the call and I was ecstatic. Over the moon. I ran over to a few friends that I had told and made such a ruckus that others had to ask me to quiet down. I couldn't help myself. I had been healed by one of God's angels and I wanted to tell the world. I couldn't call my husband and other family members fast enough. I hadn't been that excited since I found out I was pregnant with my son. If I could do a cartwheel, I would have done them down the hallway. If the windows of our office building opened, I would have screamed out "I've been healed." It was such an amazing feeling, knowing that God had stepped in and saved me. And I carried that elation around for the next three months. Until we took a major step backwards.
Like my doctor requested, we did a biopsy on the lymph nodes that had originally shown the cancer the Monday after her call and the results came back completely clear. It was further proof that God's hand was all over this. This was HIS plan and I was just along for the ride. I thought this meant that we were all clear and my breast cancer was now a thing of the past. I started to use the "r word (remission) and my doctor cautioned against that. She said I would go back in three months for follow up tests and we would see at that point. I thought she was just being extra cautious and trying to kill my buzz. But I wouldn't be deterred - I was healed!
Which is why the next round of test results hit me so hard. I wasn't prepared for the bad news that we received. It was back. But how? Why? Why would God heal me in such a miraculous way only to allow the cancer to return? And it was back with a vengeance. In the short three months, the HER-2 levels had gone through the roof and there was a pretty large tumor in the OTHER breast. It had to have moved through the lymph node system. My immediate question was: should we have done the mastectomy? Did we make a terrible mistake? She responded that even if we had removed the breasts, since it was in the lymph nodes, we would have had the same fight on our hands. Removing the breast tissue would not have eliminated the major issue. Either the last biopsy had missed it or God had let it return. Neither was something I understood. The way I viewed it, someone screwed up, and screwed up BIG time or God was really messing with me. To allow me to have such a high and then bring me back down so low. I just didn't get it at all.
Since the cancer had spread and the tumor was larger and we were dealing with the lymph nodes, we had taken a HUGE step backwards into Stage III. Stage III is MUCH scarier than Stage I. Even seeing it on the screen looks scary to me. All I knew is we were in for a MUCH bigger fight. A fight that I wasn't prepared for. My body was still a bit worn out from the first go around and emotionally I just could't pull myself together. I would just sit in a room for hours, after everyone was asleep, asking "Why". And hearing nothing back from God. If ever I have wanted to give up, it was that day in August.
We started chemotherapy right away and this time I had to let my boss in on the news. I tried to share as little as possible, but I couldn't be gone from the office anymore without being noticed. I won't go into all the details here, but from August 2012 until November 2013, I was fighting for my life. Literally, without exaggeration. We did chemo, then scans, then more chemo, more scans, blood work galore, another biopsy, PET scans (when my insurance would allow), IV treatments for low potassium, dehydration, shots for low white blood count, shots to increase red blood count, antibiotics to ward off infection, etc, etc. You all have been there in different ways - you can imagine the fight. And that's what it was - a fight. My doctor threatened to hospitalize me several times so I could just get some rest, but I never sleep in hospitals and I wasn't having any part of it. I told her to treat me anyway she could, but I wanted to be at home with my family. They were what was keeping me sane and I needed to see my baby's face at night.
This battle continued from August 2012 until June 2013. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse - they did. I got a call that the HER-2 levels were continuing to rise no matter what we did and the latest PET scan showed that the tumor had grown, despite the 36 treatments of chemo. And worst of all, they could see several tumors in the lymph nodes in the middle of my chest, right below my breast bone. This was bad, really bad. They offered to get me spiritual counseling and told me I needed to make sure I had a will and had my affairs in order. We were now looking at Stage IV. I was advised Stage IV doesn't have a cure - you can fight it and keep it at bay, but it will never go away. I thanked the doctor for her offer of counseling, but I told her I had a pastor of my own and would reach out to him.
Luckily that night we had an event at church and everyone in attendance prayed over me. It was one of the most moving experiences I've ever had. The love I felt that night for not only me, but my family, was overwhelming. To know that a room full of people were praying at the same time for God to heal me, well, I can't put into words my appreciation. I'll never be able to repay that love and support. There were times over the next several months that I wished I could return to that moment of peace, love and happiness.
I wish I could say that after that night, I got good news and I was in the all clear. But things just kept getting worse. Every phone call had more bad news. Every test result showed something else wrong. There was more surgery to remove the affected lymph nodes in the center of my chest, but the margins weren't clear. They hadn't gotten them all. They could go back in, but there were no promises that they would ever get them all. It was like a spiderweb was just spreading through me. And after that surgery, my body just wasn't in a place to go right back for more. My thyroid, adrenals, white blood count, immune system - basically everything was taking a hit. They didn't know how much more my body would be able to handle.
In addition to the physical, I felt like I was losing some friends in the process of it all. I could understand on one hand - I knew it was wearing me down, so how long could I expect other people to keep hanging on with me? Also, I had a few people questioning how I was handling the cancer fight. I had chosen to keep a blog and a Facebook page so I could keep everyone updated. But this also allowed me NOT to have to talk about it when I was just hanging with my friends. It was critical to me that I not spend my whole life talking about my disease. I DESPERATELY needed that time to just be ME, not ME with cancer. But some people didn't get that. They didn't understand why I wasn't talking about it more, why I didn't let people go with me to treatments. They felt like I was shutting them out.
Many of you here tonight may understand the tightrope I was walking. I had some friends say I was sharing TOO much, expecting TOO much, being TOO needy. So I would pull way back. Then I would have friends say I wasn't letting them in, I wasn't accepting their help, I wasn't keeping them filled in. I was all over the map trying to please this group of people, then trying to please the other group of people. Until I realized NO ONE was happy - especially me. Here I was trying to fight STAGE IV CANCER and I was worried about how everyone around me felt. I was so worried about hurting people's feelings that I was using up very precious energy that should have gone towards my health. But I couldn't seem to stop worrying. I just had this fear that if I DID beat cancer again, I was going to be left with no friends. That I was alienating everyone around me with how I was handling things.
This inner battle went on for FAR too long until two key things happened. One was my husband pointing out that we could find a new church, make new friends, move to a new city, but as long as I was still alive and it was the three of us as a family, that was ALL that mattered. I heard him and I KNEW he was right, but it took a couple more weeks before I was able to put it into practice. The second key occurrence was speaking with an old pastor from our last church. He pointed out to me that maybe God was trying to get me to lean SOLELY on Him. I was trying to get my support from family, co-workers and friends instead of leaning on God. And the more I became desperate about losing my friends, the more it seemed He was pulling me away from them. And I didn't know why. Until that pastor told me: God is making it so you have NO choice but to lean on him. And the longer it was going to take me, the more I was going to lose. See, I'm not very smart at times, but God wasn't giving up on me. He was DESPERATELY trying to teach ME something and I just wasn't getting it. Until that day I did.
I decided I needed to pull waaaaayyyyyy back from everyone and spend time with my God. I needed to take that time I was obsessing over "why is this person mad at me" and spend it with Him. I needed to be reading my Bible instead of Facebook posts. I needed to be praying instead of texting. I won't say it was an easy few weeks, but it's what I had to do to find some inner peace.
It was around this time that I had another scan that showed the lump still in my right breast. No matter what we were doing, it wasn't working. We were at a serious crossroads. I felt like the doctors were starting to give up - NOT because they didn't care, but because we had tried SOOOOO much, far more than I've even listed here. And nothing was working. I started wondering if I was supposed to be accepting the end. Was it going to be my time? I wasn't scared to die because I knew where I was going, but I was scared about the husband and child I would leave behind. Would they be okay without me? I was trying to convince myself they would be, but I just couldn't get there.
Three weeks after the last scan, we got approval for another PET scan. To put things into perspective, we didn't do any treatments during those weeks. The PET scan was again looking to see if it had spread anywhere else. The doctors were really worried at this point about it being in an organ or having metastasized to my bones. By this point I was really prepared for more bad news - it's all we'd been getting for so long. I could never have imagined what my doctor would call to say next. Because it was another miracle.
I wasn't at all prepared for anything good, since like I'd said earlier, the last several months were just full of bad news, worse news and terrible news. So, when my doctor said the cancer was gone, I really didn't understand what she was saying. I thought maybe I was hallucinating and just reliving the phone call from a year and a half ago. Gone? Again? What? How? She stated that not only didn't they find anything on the PET scan but the area in the lymph nodes and in my right breast were gone. There was nothing there at all. It was very surreal to me. I mean, who gets one miracle, let alone two? And we'd been down this road before, so how could I trust that this time that it was real. She and I both agreed that we needed to re-do all the tests, blood work, basically anything we could do. We needed to be ABSOLUTELY sure that we weren't missing anything this time. Of course, we had to get this past my insurance company. They had already covered so much and I didn't know how we'd convince them to cover more scans and tests so soon after this last round. Luckily, I work at the insurance company and I have a liason through the HR department who went to bat for me. My doctor got involved, along with my case manager at the Cancer Treatment Center, explained what we'd been through before and somehow, by the grace of God, got them to approve another PET scan to make sure nothing had been missed. A few days later I went in for the scan and they took 10 vials of blood to make sure they were checking everything possible. We also did two biopsies (on the lymph node area and the right breast) to double check. I just knew I didn't want to go through this again.
November 15, 2013 I got the call. EVERYTHING WAS CLEAR! Not a drop of cancer was found. There was no explanation other than another miracle. It took several days for my brain to grasp but all I could imagine is God wanted me to FINALLY, for the first time in my 40 years, depend SOLELY on Him. He wanted me to lean on him for all my support - not look to friends, family, co-workers, husband, son, etc.
I've had several people tell me it's very hard to believe, and I agree. There are days I still don't believe it myself. I've had a couple people question why I deserve two miracles. My answer is: I don't. I am no more special than any person in this room. And for about two weeks I wrestled with that. Was I worthy? How do I show people that I was worth saving? Why me when I knew of other women who had lost their battle? Now that I was healthy again, what was I going to do with my life? It had to be something incredibly meaningful to show God my appreciation. I even spent a couple days really doubting God - thinking he'd made the wrong decision. As much as a miracle is a major blessing, for a little while, it felt like a ton of pressure. Like I had to prove to the world that I was good enough, special enough to deserve this.
Then it finally hit me - this wasn't MY plan. It was GOD'S. And who was I to question God. I still can't explain why I have been healed for a second time. And I have no guarantees when I go back for my three month check up that they won't find anything again. All I do know is that I have my utmost faith in God. He can handle whatever comes next. And I now know that He is my rock - not all the people around me. Because friends and family are human too - they aren't perfect. And they may not always be able to give you what you want or what you need. But God can. All He asks is that you turn to Him, lean on Him and take the support and love He offers.
To wrap up my long and crazy story, what have I learned from my battle with cancer? First of all, I would tell anyone who has been newly diagnosed, DO NOT START OUT SAYING YOU'RE FINE! You're not fine! NO ONE with cancer is fine. You WILL need help and support and if you start out your journey telling people around you that you're okay, they will start to believe you and not be there when you REALLY need them.
Secondly, take whatever help is offered. Even if it's NOT what you think you need, if someone is offering a meal or a ride to the doctor or to help with your kids, they WANT to do it. And the more you turn them down, the less they will offer in the future.
Third, tell people what you need/want. If people are offering help, but it's not the help you really need, SPEAK UP. And if they don't seem to understand, SPEAK UP again. People may THINK they know what you need, but it's your battle and you may have to "educate" them about what YOU actually need.
Fourth, don't hold the emotions in. LET THEM OUT. Trying to hold them in only causes them to come out at very odd times, which may lead friends and family to think you're a bit crazy. Losing your cool over getting a regular coke vs a diet coke might not make sense. But if you tell them you're scared, worried, terrified, afraid, sick to death of being sick, lonely, sad, etc - these are things people can understand. Just be honest. The people who care about you REALLY want to know how you are.
Fifth, if you feel you have hurt someone's feelings by the way you are handling your fight, apologize once. Maybe twice if that person really matters to you. If they accept your apology, great. That person is in it for the long haul. If they don't, LET IT GO. You are not responsible for how people react - you are only responsible for yourself. If the person or persons can't forgive you, they are not meant to be part of your life at this stage. Move on and focus on the people who ARE there for you. Focusing your attention on those that don't want to be by your side through this battle only takes away energy from your fight. And it also serves to alienate the people who are right there with you, wanting so badly to help.
Lastly, when you are at complete rock bottom, that is when God will be there to pick you up. Look to Him to lift you up - not anyone else. He wants to help you, He's longing to help you. Give Him that chance. It will be the best decision you'll ever make. And it might be the decision that saves your life.
God bless you all and I will be praying that each of you get YOUR miracles. Because everyone in this room, as a child of God, deserves it."
Friday, January 3, 2014
Missing the forest for the trees
October 16, 2004, Matt and I got married in an intimate ceremony with about 50 family members and friends. We were new to the area, Matt was growing his business, we wanted to buy a house and start a family soon, so we decided to keep things small. We chose Aldridge Gardens outside of Birmingham, AL for our location. I love the water, this beautiful site has a lake and I thought it would be perfect as the backdrop. I had grand plans in my head for some gorgeous pictures and was really excited for the day.
But as is the case with many weddings, a number of things went wrong. Due to the layout of the gardens, I came "up" the aisle from the opposite direction than is normal. Unfortunately, no one told Matt to turn around to watch my approach, so he didn't get to see my "glorious" entrance. Matt gets nervous in front of crowds (which I didn't learn til that day) so he spent the whole time with his leg shaking. I was worried he didn't want to go through with it and I almost stopped the minister to ask if he was okay. We have pictures with my arm around his back because I thought he was going to pass out. Our photographer, who had come HIGHLY recommended since he took pictures of Miss Alabama, somehow forgot how to take pictures that day. We have some great ones of just Matt and me, but no good ones of the family. We had worried about the rain, but instead of getting wet, the minister had the sun in his eyes the whole time so all the pictures are of him squinting. At the reception, they served the ice cream before the cake. Last, but not least, our guitarist/singer had to leave early due to a "family" emergency.
As you can tell, I remember all the "mistakes" from our wedding very well. Almost immediately afterwards, I started talking about one day renewing our vows. I wanted to re-do things so they were perfect. At the beginning, I talked about doing it at our five year anniversary. I gave in that that was unreasonable and focused on our ten year. However, as that approaches this October, I realize what a big mistake I've made all these years. And it's a mistake that I've made in many areas of my life. I've focused so much on what was "wrong" that I missed all the things that are "right".
I focused on the fact that the sun was too bright that day and it was a tad bit warm instead of how lucky we were to avoid any inclement weather. I focused on Matt not seeing my grand entrance instead of the look of joy on his face when he did finally see me. I worried so much about Matt NOT wanting to go through with the wedding instead of the fact that he was standing RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME saying his vows and pledging his love. I was so frustrated at the photographer for not getting better family pictures that sometimes I forgot to smile for the good ones. I was so annoyed at the hotel for "screwing up" the schedule of the wedding that I missed how much fun people were having. I was appalled that our entertainment was leaving early due to, well, let's just say something I didn't think called for her to leave, that I missed how people were congratulating us.
I'm sharing all this today because, I didn't just do it that day. I've done it many, many times over the past nine years. And it's something I'm not proud of. I can get so focused on the little negative things that I miss how lucky I am, how wonderful my life is, how blessed I am to have a loving, caring, devoted husband. That old saying: you miss the forest for the trees. Yep, that's me. It's something I've had people point out to me, but it's something you really have to see it and learn it for yourself.
Luckily, I started doing a new devotional about marriage and something in there hit me over the head like a ton of bricks. The book is 'Wife After God' and is written by the author of "Unveiled Wife', Jennifer Smith (she has a website, Facebook page and book devoted to being a more Godly wife). In the book she wrote "how do you get to 25 years of marriage if you can't give your husband a break for 25 minutes?" That's when it hit me: I've been so focused on getting to ten years so we could do a vow renewal, that I was losing site of how I was acting in the here and now. What if, because how I can be the negative Nelly, my husband wouldn't want to stand up and speak those vows again? I hope I'm not THAT bad, but sometimes I have to look at the hard truth to really get God's point.
Today He was telling me that I need to:
appreciate more and nit-pick less
be happy more, sad less
be content more often, worry less
be more thankful, less ungrateful
find more joy and less unhappiness
laugh more, complain less
Most importanly, I need to remember to live in the moment and stop worrying about what went wrong in the past and what could happen in the future. Today I am blessed that I woke up in a warm house with a Godly man beside me and an adorable son in the other room. Just those things are more than numerous people have. It's about time I stopped looking at the wrong and focusing solely on the right. That's what God is speaking to my heart, so I best pay attention. I don't want to waste one more day missing out on all His glory.
God bless you all and I hope you have a JOY-FILLED day! Thanks for reading.
But as is the case with many weddings, a number of things went wrong. Due to the layout of the gardens, I came "up" the aisle from the opposite direction than is normal. Unfortunately, no one told Matt to turn around to watch my approach, so he didn't get to see my "glorious" entrance. Matt gets nervous in front of crowds (which I didn't learn til that day) so he spent the whole time with his leg shaking. I was worried he didn't want to go through with it and I almost stopped the minister to ask if he was okay. We have pictures with my arm around his back because I thought he was going to pass out. Our photographer, who had come HIGHLY recommended since he took pictures of Miss Alabama, somehow forgot how to take pictures that day. We have some great ones of just Matt and me, but no good ones of the family. We had worried about the rain, but instead of getting wet, the minister had the sun in his eyes the whole time so all the pictures are of him squinting. At the reception, they served the ice cream before the cake. Last, but not least, our guitarist/singer had to leave early due to a "family" emergency.
As you can tell, I remember all the "mistakes" from our wedding very well. Almost immediately afterwards, I started talking about one day renewing our vows. I wanted to re-do things so they were perfect. At the beginning, I talked about doing it at our five year anniversary. I gave in that that was unreasonable and focused on our ten year. However, as that approaches this October, I realize what a big mistake I've made all these years. And it's a mistake that I've made in many areas of my life. I've focused so much on what was "wrong" that I missed all the things that are "right".
I focused on the fact that the sun was too bright that day and it was a tad bit warm instead of how lucky we were to avoid any inclement weather. I focused on Matt not seeing my grand entrance instead of the look of joy on his face when he did finally see me. I worried so much about Matt NOT wanting to go through with the wedding instead of the fact that he was standing RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME saying his vows and pledging his love. I was so frustrated at the photographer for not getting better family pictures that sometimes I forgot to smile for the good ones. I was so annoyed at the hotel for "screwing up" the schedule of the wedding that I missed how much fun people were having. I was appalled that our entertainment was leaving early due to, well, let's just say something I didn't think called for her to leave, that I missed how people were congratulating us.
I'm sharing all this today because, I didn't just do it that day. I've done it many, many times over the past nine years. And it's something I'm not proud of. I can get so focused on the little negative things that I miss how lucky I am, how wonderful my life is, how blessed I am to have a loving, caring, devoted husband. That old saying: you miss the forest for the trees. Yep, that's me. It's something I've had people point out to me, but it's something you really have to see it and learn it for yourself.
Luckily, I started doing a new devotional about marriage and something in there hit me over the head like a ton of bricks. The book is 'Wife After God' and is written by the author of "Unveiled Wife', Jennifer Smith (she has a website, Facebook page and book devoted to being a more Godly wife). In the book she wrote "how do you get to 25 years of marriage if you can't give your husband a break for 25 minutes?" That's when it hit me: I've been so focused on getting to ten years so we could do a vow renewal, that I was losing site of how I was acting in the here and now. What if, because how I can be the negative Nelly, my husband wouldn't want to stand up and speak those vows again? I hope I'm not THAT bad, but sometimes I have to look at the hard truth to really get God's point.
Today He was telling me that I need to:
appreciate more and nit-pick less
be happy more, sad less
be content more often, worry less
be more thankful, less ungrateful
find more joy and less unhappiness
laugh more, complain less
Most importanly, I need to remember to live in the moment and stop worrying about what went wrong in the past and what could happen in the future. Today I am blessed that I woke up in a warm house with a Godly man beside me and an adorable son in the other room. Just those things are more than numerous people have. It's about time I stopped looking at the wrong and focusing solely on the right. That's what God is speaking to my heart, so I best pay attention. I don't want to waste one more day missing out on all His glory.
God bless you all and I hope you have a JOY-FILLED day! Thanks for reading.
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