Mixed Bag of Feelings

I have many mixed emotions heading into the final infusion.  It's kinda surreal to think about.  I don't think I'll fully get it for a while.  

Disbelief comes to mind when I think back on how long this season has felt at times.  The fact that it has stretched beyond a year is almost unbelievable.  In some ways, last year was like a blurr. Some things I don't totally remember and that's ok.  

Relief to be completing the recommended course of more invasive treatments ( minus the pills of course but I'm not counting them).   I never thought this was something I would add to my list of life experiences.  

Sadness and I realize this may make no sense at all, but there is a sense of purpose in actively treating the thing that was trying to kill you.  I think there is an emotional let down after being so up for the fight for so long.  

Happy to see my children rise to the occasion of supporting someone and picking up the slack when I needed extra help. Or just being around with me when I didn't feel well. 

Fearless like I have overcome something huge, And am ready to live! And live big. 

Thankfull to have walked this road because it allowed me to realize a purpose for which I feel so called to now. I want to help others who are in a similar place.  I can offer a bit of an understanding ear in a way I couldn't before.  Also, so thankful for all the amazing caregivers at the cancer center and all the new friends I have made both cancer related and not. 

Grateful that my cancer was treatable and hadn't spread. 

Blessed to have an amazing supportive group of friends and family. 

Amazed at the goodness of God in supplying everything I needed along the way including friends who had been through this before me.  And peace to weather the storm. 

Anxious to get it done and go celebrate. I think that's what inspired today's art   We were given a prompt of some photos of sailboats out in Bellingham Bay.  I was very intimidated by this idea until I added my perspective. I imagined where I would love to go to celebrate and decided to paint it.  Hmmm I'd love to be on those green waters.

So with my mixed bag of emotions...  I take another step forward. 

Almost There...

I have been feeling so well lately that I haven't hardly sat still long enough to tell you about it.  I had treatment on Monday and then went back to volunteer on Tuesday.  As of now, I have two infusions left.  TWO!  That's it!  It is almost inconceivable to believe I have been doing this for over a year now.  What I once new nothing about, has now become common place for me.  Who would have ever guessed it.  We just don't know where these roads will take us. 


My hair is growing back.  Verrrryyyy slowly.  But it is growing and it is kinda crazy curly with a mind of its' own.  Oh well.  It is kinda fun and funky.  I just go with it. 


The volunteering has been truly amazing.  It makes me think of another passion I often write about. Gardening.  Every year around February and March, I gather my seeds from various resources.  Then I organize my plug trays for planting and make sure I have enough dirt  for everything I want to plant.  Now I am ready to get at it.


A gardener has to have hope.  We purchase packages of seeds, which are dry, dead, pieces of formerly living plants. They bare little resemblence to the plant they came from, and unless you are really familiar or are planting beans, peas, or corn... you wouldn't know what to expect.  Each seed is placed in it's own little hole, gently covered with germinating mix, and then lightly watered.  At this point, I simply have to sit back and wait.  Sure I can adjust the temperature and amount of water they receive.  I can even place them under grow lights, but I can't really force the process beyond that.  They will sprout when they are ready.  


This last year, I feel as if in some ways I underwent a similar change.  A part of me has dried up and died in this process called cancer.  Now, don't start thinking I am looking for pity cause that couldn't be farther from the case. The part of me that died was the fear.  In the past I attempted to deal with this issue that would plague me from time to time, but I was unsuccessful.  It wasn't until I was finally diagnosed with an actual life threatening illness that I released my grip and let it go.  The ultimate realization that I have only so much control over things hit me square in the chest.  


That seed of fear that was dead and lifeless, fell into fertile soil.  I think I surrendered my goals and ambitions and allowed God to water that little seed with hope, compassion, and an abundant peace.  From it has sprung a new passion and love of people I might never have experienced with out the Lord's leading.  I have heard it said many times, that you know your doing the right kind of ministry when you leave after serving and feel energized and refreshed, ready to do it again. 


My tasks are simple and easy: Keeping the hospitality areas tidy and full of fresh hot coffee and water, and keeping the goodie tray full.  I replenish the blankets in the warmer.  I make copies when I am asked.  I go hunting for a travel magazine because that's what helps him pass the time.  I bring tea in an extra cup because it is hot and I don't want the sister to burn her hands.  I check the kitchen for sugar free options because the patient is diabetic and needs to watch his sugar intake.  I bring granola bars for the patient and her two friends, then return to grab peanuts because she is alergic to wheat.  And sometimes I sit and visit a while.  I answer questions about the types of chemo I had and how it affected me.  We talk about hair loss and how it makes us feel.  We compare side effects and symptoms and share all attempted cures.  I listen to concerns about the prognosis.  We embrace because we can relate to one another and a connection has been made.  A connection that would never have happened with out my pink journey this last 15 months. 


My seed died.  It was planted in God's goodness and by his grace it is growing and flourishing.


Philippians 1:6

being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

Today I was an Ear

I have begun my time as a volunteer at the cancer center.  I know there was some concern that this would be too close to home for me being as I am still receiving treatments myself.  I imagine there might be days where this could be difficult.  I realize too, that it will mean beginning more relationships with people who may not have long to live, and I am okay with that now.  These courageous fighters need to be able to smile and laugh just as much if not more than most.  And I am ready for that. 



I have already met some amazing folks on this same journey and have come to understand that there is a bond that cuts through the usual "getting to know you" phase of a relationship and gets right down to whats important and what is real.  For them right now, treatment is real.  Very real!  It's scary, it can be lonely, and it's long and tiring.  Sometimes, it is nauseating, literally, and it can even have life threatening side effects of it's own.  At best, the side effects are minimal, but make no mistake, there are side effects.  Some are temporary, and can be fairly easily dealt with, and some are permanent.  These patients have opted for this form of treatment in hope that it is their best option to kick cancer in the _ss!  Dealing with side effects is just part of the packaged deal. I know.  My joints remind me frequently. 



Having the opportunity to listen and maybe answer a question or too is so humbling and gratifying.  It reassures me that there is purpose in my journey.  Not that I haven't already found plenty along the way this last year, but this is an opportunity to give back in a specific way. 


As a believer, we talk about being a body.  Each of us representing a different part, and yet working together to make a whole.  We as the church have the privilege to be different parts depending upon what God is calling you to do.  If you step up to the challenge no matter what part you are being asked to play, God will meet you there. 


Today, I was an ear.  This is not a part of the body that I am as well practiced in as I should be or would like to be.  And yet today, I listened...  To a sweet fighter who is beginning a long and frightening road.  What started as a simple trip to the doctor to fix a "muscle pain", ended up giving a diagnosis of caner.  And not just cancer in an isolated place, but all throughout the body.  Not what they were expecting to hear at all.  I listened as they told me about their family and each of the precious members in it.  I listened as I heard about a life long hobby they hoped to be able to continue in the future.  I smiled as I was privy to a tender look as a beloved spouse was described beautifully and with such gratitude and loving detail.  I quietly listened with attentive eyes as they relayed their prognosis and fear of the future.  I heard the details about chemo reactions that almost ended the fight.  And we shared a smile as they described their faith in a living God, and a strong desire for this to be used for a greater purpose. 


Today, I was an ear.  I was not noticed for adornments or piercings.  I was quietly serving by listening.

    

TEAM PINK

Team Tami is joining with Philips 66 to RELAY FOR LIFE on July 11th and 12th.  Both myself and the other team captains have been directly affected by cancer and know the pain and devastation it causes.  For families, care givers and friends this can be a difficult season of wanting to help, while not knowing exactly how to offer support.  Meals, cards, rides, hats, laughs and quiet companionship were some of my most appreciated gifts. 

We also discovered last year, first hand, how the American Caner Society helps people who are in the fight. There were several times when information or products I received came from ACS.  And this year we will walk again to raise funds to support this group. 

We are ordering shirts as a fundraiser for our team. You can call me or message me with your order, you can stop by 2nd AVE SPORTS in Ferndale and place your order, or you can print the form and give it to me in person. 

The shirts are charcoal and there are 4 different styles with a ladies cut available in the wicking T-shirt (which is my favorite).   This image is the rough design.  The final proof is still being worked up, but it will be very close to this with minor changes.  

Thank you in advance for your continued support.  And please check out our Relay team page if you would like to join us.   We will be having sign ups for the different hour blocks through out the night.  We would love to have people join us for each of these hours.  Each one has a different theme and boy do they get cRaZY in the middle of the night.  Come check it out!

 

 

 

 

Celebrating My First Cancer Free Birthday

A few weeks ago I started writing this blog... I changed it, then changed it again.   February 14th held a lot of different emotions for so many people I know.  For some it was the anniversary of the loss of a loved one, for others it was the anniversary of 27 years of shared love and marriage, and for yet another it was a day to welcome a first born baby boy into the family.   I opted to wait to post it for several reasons, but now I am ready.

For me, February 14th now holds great significance. One year ago, I decorated the most unique valentine I have ever made and gave it to someone I barely knew, but had chosen to trust with my body and my life.  It was just over 365 days ago that I had the heinous C word cut from my body, precisely and adequately making me officially CANCER FREE.  This was cause for celebration!  And celebrate we did!  I bought small lobster tails for the few in our family that would really savor the treat and two big steaks to share for the others.  I got strawberries and dipped them in dark chocolate and made really yummy stir fried beans and veggies.  We even had sparkling cider and my favorite white wine.  It was a great meal to celebrate February 14th, my first cancer free birthday! 

I have been told that with the passing of each birthday it gets a little easier.  The nagging reminders become a little less ominous as you purpose to enjoy each day and mark those miles stones with celebration.  I will look forward to that for sure. 

I had the occasion this last weekend to join with hundreds of others to celebrate.  We weren't gathered to recognize another birthday, rather we were gathered to honor and remember a life well spent.  I attended the memorial for Julia Pohlman, a friend and fallen fighter.  I was so moved by the attitude of her memorial.  Her husband participated as well as a few of her children.  Family member after family member shared of the rock solid faith of this courageous woman.  And it was evidenced again in talking with her oldest son and her husband.  While they were certainly experiencing a loss of indescribable proportion, they were taking the opportunity to shout out the name that is above all names and the reason for their hope... Jesus!  I sat through the service there unsure what emotions I would be feeling and realized that I was deeply inspired by the life she lived and encouraged to be so bold.  It wasn't a "sad" time.  It was a time to remember and reflect, but it was also a time to be challenged to make my life intentional and purposeful. 

None of us knows the number of days or years we are to be given.  We could get in a random car accident tomorrow or we might live to see 95.  I realize as I face this life threatening illness called breast cancer, I have felt much more outward focused than I have in the past.  I feel challenged to live a life that is less about me and more about serving others.  In the end that is the legacy that I want to leave behind.

Philippians 2:3-8

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit.  Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interest of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death - even death on a cross!
  

 

 

Julia, A Friend, A Fellow Fighter, and a Fallen Warrior

I wanted to write something to honor a person I admired, but I think this blog says it pretty well.  I will simply say, I was blessed to have met Julia.  She truly lived her life with cancer rather than letting it get the best of her.  Her faith in her savior was a tangible blanket she wore which clothed her in radiance and peace.  Join me in praying for the family who mourns a loss. 
This is the link to a blog that was written about her today. May we all look at life a little differently, knowing that the one who put the stars in the sky ordained each moment for us.  Let us live out each one for his glory.

If you want to make a contribution to Team Julia, there is a link in this other blog post.  Help them continue to make Juila's cancer count by donating.

http://woundedcollision.com/blog/she-wanted-to-make-her-cancer-count

Yup! I am still here.

I realize I am way overdue for an update.  I will try to catch you up on my last several weeks. 



As of last writing, I had the follow up mammogram which would show that at the end of this first year, I am clear.  Yay!  With many cancers you have to wait 5 years before you are considered truly clear. The type of cancer I have is aggressive, and if it is going to come back, it will do so in the next 3 years.  This is part of the good news.   After I make it 2 more years, I will have a less likely chance of it coming back.  I am not in the high risk category for re occurrence, but then again I wasn't in the high risk category to have it in the first place so go figure.


I started the hormone blocker, Tamoxifen, two months ago.  In the beginning it was a struggle.  I felt like I was having physical symptoms, but I am not sure if they were real or manufactured.  I was nervous about starting this new medication, so I know that probably had some effect on my mental state.  Right now, I am doing okay on it and don't have any major side effects to report. 


I had my follow up echo a few weeks ago.  The appointment didn't start out well.  I arrived 15 minutes early for my appointment and stood in line with all the more "mature" people.  When I approached the counter and gave them my name, there was a lengthy delay in her response.  My appointment had been scheduled for me to be seen at the hospital and here I was at the Cardiac center where all my other appointments had been.  I was feeling a bit bummed about this, because I even have my favorite tech that I had requested.  Rather than get upset, I asked if she would like me to drive over to the hospital?  I also mentioned my desire to have my favorite technician.  The sweet gal at the scheduling counter asked me to hold on a second while she went to see if my tech was even in and if it was at all possible to squeeze me into today's schedule.  God was smiling on me today.  Not only was she in, but it was her free hour right then and she was happy to do my echo. 


A week later I had my check-in appointment with my oncologist.  She said all my labs looked great and that my echo showed that the ejection fraction had remained the same.  This is good news.  There was a little funky activity on the right side, but nothing she was going to get too alarmed over at this time.  So just a little something we can be praying about for the future.
 


For the most part, I feel pretty good.  I have had to fight a constant dizziness that arrived a few weeks into radiation.  The Dr. thinks it is a nerve damage issue from the Taxol (the last of the chemo drugs I had).  They are hopeful it will go away over the next year.  It might improve when I am done with my infusions in June.  In the meantime, I have discovered that if I over do it, it is worse.  The trick then is trying to slow this girl down.  I have decided to walk instead of run for a while or at least go slower and just take it day by day.  I have added in other physical activities that are less jolting to my hurting joints.  In fact, my new favorite is indoor rock climbing.  I can't wait to try it when I am actually in shape.  I have also discovered that what I would consider a terrible meal, actually physically makes me feel better.  At first I thought I was kinda crazy and lookin for an excuse on this one until I received a message from a fellow PINK fighter who claims the same.  Who knew a big old juicy burger had healing powers.   Just sayin.....


 I am going to live as if the cancer doesn't have an option to return.  I am not going to waste my days on what ifs.  When those doubts blow in, I will call on friends and family for support and find encouragement in the scriptures.  I want to live my life worthy of the calling... Ephesians 4:1

My friend Michelle and I shared our stories last week at the Relay for Life kick-off event.  We were both quite nervous, but in the end, felt very supported by the people who were there. I am grateful whenever I get a chance to talk with someone about their stories and hear how it is affecting them, for this reason, I am eager to start my volunteering. 

Fun Little Patient Profile

I wanted to share this with you because I didn't get any extra copies to mail out, but it is something kind of fun.  I was asked if I was interested in doing this quick little patient profile article for the Peace Health magazine, Health Today.  I said sure!  It seemed like it would be a good way to share my smile.  And when I say "share my smile", I hope you realize I am not talking about the photo.  I want people to hear my smile in the words I say and they way I walk through this experience.
We made an appointment with the writer and had the interview.  Then, they did a photo shoot of the kids and I and it was all very fun, especially since the photographer brought amazing cookies both times. 


That was several months ago.  This month the article finally came out.  I hope your able to open the document.  The article is on page 3. 


http://www.peacehealth.org/Documents/HealthToday-Winter2014.pdf

We Need a Couple More Pictures...

These are not the words you want to hear when you're back for the first mammogram since the big C was discovered.  And yet they are the words I would hear yesterday morning.  I'm sure you can imagine what kinds of ideas are sprouting in the mind at this point.  

"Let me show you the area we are looking at. There's just a small spot here we need to get a better image of."  Says the sweet nurse. "Hopefully it's just scar tissue from your incision."  

My mind wants to run wild down a dark alley and get lost amidst the dumpsters filled with anguish and fear... But I won't let it. 

This is the day that the Lord has made and I will choose to rejoice and be glad in it.

Yah, hopefully that's all it is...  But what if it's not.   I've been going through chemo for the past 9 months, had seven weeks of radiation and have started the hormone blockers (Tamoxifen ).  My body is not my own and feels anything but normal. It's a constant adjustment for the mind to wrap around the new warped version of reality.  It seems each day something new or different hurts and really?  Was it all for nothing?  

I'm dieing, it's true. But then again, so are you.  None of us will escape this blatant fact.  The question then is, am I choosing to live?  Have I allowed this to define me? Or is this yet another opportunity to have my character refined?  I think it is precisely that. 

You see, I believe my life clock was set even before I would take a single breath. This has not changed the amount of days, months, or years that my clock holds.  But hopefully this has opened my eyes again to the simple fact that there will be an end at some point.  I am not immortal.  What I do while that clock is still tickin is entirely up to me.  So, (cue the Mission Impossible theme music here) my mission, should I choose to accept it, is to live and to live out loud!   

We took three more pictures yesterday morning.  All three were clear.  The spots are scar tissue and I am thankful. After relaxing over a cup or two of coffee and chatting with a friend, I went to art class. We were working on incorporating the style of an artist named Britton.  He himself, was inspired by Picasso.  I must have had a song in my heart as this was what came out as I painted my own interpretation of the assignment. 

Always A Mom

Several months ago I was set upon an unexpected path.  A path with dark corners, unexpected information and surprisingly still waters.  But I was not asked to do this journey alone.  My children of course had no choice, but my mom did.  She came out before the first surgery and has been here ever since.  She has done the dishes, our laundry ( which is a boat load), and dug up my gardens faithfully. She has gleaned when I couldn't, cleaned when I didn't feel like it and massaged many a tense muscle.   She has shown us 30-50 something moms that the job doesn't end just cause your kids are grown.  She has become "gramma Jan" to all the teens, preteens and post teens that bless this home increasing her legacy once again.  And all the while faithfully prayed for ALL of us... You pre, post and current teens included. 

She has occasionally bleached our darks, soaked my counters and burnt our food and for these memories we are eternally grateful!  Your laughter on game night will be missed. Your generosity of time, money and love will always be appreciated and hopefully paid forward because of the example you displayed. Your ability to find the thrift store bargain will be carried on and we will make you proud. We know you'll be back, (because now you are leaving 2 cars behind instead of 1), but for now we say goodbye and thank you. There aren't enough words to express my gratitude.  I am so thankful for you... All 11 days of November worth and then some.

  I love you mom!

Comment if you want to add in your fun, funny or great memories with gramma Jan!

I've Officially Lost My Marbles

 

5, 4, 3, 2.....

 

In the past 7 weeks I've logged a minimum of 1,750 miles back and forth just for treatment and Dr appts, burning up roughly 85 gallons of gas.  I have gone through 5 different hydrating lotions, two hydro cortisone creams, a bottle of sun screen, a bottle of Tylenol and a bottle of wine.   I have left the poor sisters unsupported for weeks because the bras hurt with the burns. And then I marveled at the unexpected healing while still being treated.  My hair has grown an inch while my faith has increased by a mile.  Today is day 35 and the last marble goes.  I'm tempted to keep it as a stone of remembrance for this leg of the race.  While I shared with you the struggles I deal with at night when I'm alone, the laughter I shared during the days was where I found my strength and encouragement.

Through this uncomfortable phase of treatment I have felt one thing confirmed in me for sure.  We read in the scriptures of the saints saying "Here am I.  Send me".  They are ready to be used.  And I like to think I prayed that through.. in the past.  Africa? Yes. I would go.  Mexico, yes. Send me. Thailand?  I will certainly pray about it.  But the cancer center????  Hmmm, no, not so much.  I don't think I ever raised my hand to volunteer to be sent there and yet that is precisely where I find myself. And much to my surprise, even though it has meant walking through the fire to gain that experience, I have found so much joy in encouraging others who are unfortunately following behind me in a cancer walk of their own. If I can help them smile, I will.  If there's a question I can answer, I'm happy to help.  And if someone just needs to have their fears about this nasty thing called cancer validated and be listened to, I am able to do this.  

Part of my next phase will include me volunteering at the cancer center.  There was a time not too long ago when I was afraid of this place and the people in it.  I would turn my head and eyes away as I drove by, as if I would some how catch it just by acknowledging it.  Now, I feel comfortable at the center. There is no more fear associated with the people who enter those doors, as I am one of them.  I have a sense of belonging and I desire to help others walk this path.  I plan to be back weekly sitting with others as they endure their nasty beginning infusions and hopefully making some people smile.  It seems to be one of the things I am good at.

In terms of treatment I have Herceptin infusions every three weeks until sometime next June, and then surgeries and pills will follow.  And in case anyone was wondering because several have asked and I have never posted it, I had stage 3a breast cancer.  They never told me at the beginning and so I never asked, at least not until after I had my last Taxol treatment.  I didn't want a number associated with my process. 

Thank you all for your continued prayer and support.  I know it has been a long road and so many of you have been such a faithful part of this journey.  I am truly grateful.

Happy Halloween

I have the best radiation techs workin on me.  They even know how to have a little fun with it.  My kinda group!

And this is sweet Lori.  My angel.  

That's all for today.  

6 marbles and counting.  

Final Phase of Radiation Begins

"That's amazing!  It looks better than last week."  These were the words from my shocked radiologist today when he examined my burns.  He couldn't believe what he saw. He fully expected one or two areas to be blistered and weeping. And yet they are looking so much better.  I told him about the salve I have been using and he was quite interested.  I BET he is!      Another sweet friend made me another mixture very similar to the other so I am set and healing bound.  I practically bathe in this stuff right now.  Who knows what else it will help with.

Today was the last treatment to the lymph node areas!  YAY!   Tomorrow starts what they call a boost.  It is a concentrated burst of electrons to the former tumor site.  This will take a little extra time to set up tomorrow and then 7 treatments and I am done!  

Now I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Thank you for your faithful prayer as I continue on this crazy detour.  

I would love to share a list of names of the women I have met along the way as well as friends who have had cancer in the past.  I realize it is just a long list of names, but each has an amazing story. Some are survivors praying for no re-occur, but most are currently fighting and some fight for their lives!  Please join me in lifting them up in prayer as you read through.  It does make a difference.  Prayer is a powerful gift.  Thank you.  

Holly,    Julia,    Stephanie,    Michelle, Lori,    Linda,    Alice,    Erica,    Patty, Claris,    Mel,    Vonnie,    Donna,    Maria, Gwen,    Denise,    Kim,    Laurel,    Phyllis,    Wendy,    Rhonda,    Carol,  and Nancy

A Gift Fit For A Princess

Today I received a gift from an angel.  I was a minute or two late for my 2:30 treatment time which turned out to be fine as they were running uncharacteristically behind schedule.  I sat down in the empty waiting area and began to read.  Then the sweet face of a woman I have gotten acquainted with came around the corner.  Her name is Lori.  We share a very similar diagnosis. We went through identical chemo treatments and are at the same place with our radiation days.  In fact, the radiation techs often confuse us because we are similar in our builds and quite similar in our hairstyles, color and even hair length.  And we both usually have a big smiles on our faces.  Today when the tech came to get me, he looked between us a few times and we laughed and joked with him saying you're not sure which one of us you need are you?  He smiled. Looked between us again and said questioningly, "Tami?"  I made it easy on the poor guy and stood to go with him.  

Last week she was beginning to experience the burning around the same areas as I was. But today as she rounded the corner she took one look at me and blurted out "I am so happy to see you!  I have something for you."  She proceeded to pull a small mason jar from her purse and handed it eagerly to me. She then explained how a friend had made this special salve for her and within 4 days her skin, although still getting radiated shows no signs of burn.  Not even redness.   She continued to tell me that after she realized how much it was helping her skin, she wanted me to have some too.  She remembered that we had talked last week and she had seen how burnt I was.  She called her friend and went over to her house and made some for me.  They call it Jesus Salves.  Fitting don't you think?  As I read the list of ingredients, I felt as if I were receiving a gift fit for a princess. The first two ingredients were Frankincense and Myrrh, the same gifts once given to a King.  I was very touched by the thoughtfulness of her gift and knew that God had indeed had a hand in this.  You see both Lori and I started our appointments 5 weeks ago with an 11:00 time. Then I bounced to a 1:50 for a few weeks and then 2:45 for a week. This week I am at 2:30. And so is Lori.  Gods sweet and perfect timing of such a precious gift was indeed a treasure.  He knows when his children need a little something extra, and I love that he chooses to use regular everyday people to be the angels who deliver it.  I've used my gift twice today already and it is very soothing.  

 

                   9 marbles left 

Wrestling In the Darkness

Lest you think this journey is easy for me because I often write of my small everyday victories, today I write from the darkness that hovers and threatens to steal my peace.   I think anyone who has battled cancer of any kind will attest to the fact that, there are times when the outlook seems bleak and your prognosis feels grim. It's with certainty that you acknowledge the dwindling number of your days.  Every twitch, pinch or pain is most likely an incurable tumor full of the cancerous monster. It doesn't matter that this line of thinking is in sharp contrast to what the doctors say or that it will not benefit me in anyway.  It is my now. The possibilities haunt me at night when I lay down. They rush in to cover me like a dark suffocating blanket. Stifling the oxygen that I need. I attempt to bury my fear deep in the comforting warmth of my pillow.  Here I find safety, familiarity, and rest... At least some nights.  On the other nights I anxiously wrestle.  I wrestle with my emotions and fears. I toss and turn with doubts and what ifs.  I get easily distracted down rabbit trails of pure deception.  And for that moment, I am lost. It is dark. It is cold.  And it is very lonely.  I am at my very core afraid.  Afraid "it" will come back and "it" will be worse.  Afraid I'm not doing enough. Afraid of what I would miss out on if...

At the end of every detour, along side every rabbit trail there are constant reminders that I don't have to tread this ground again.  I already know this. So why am I here again?  Why do I continue to join this wrestling match? Because cancer is scary and ugly.  It doesn't select only unhealthy people who "deserve" it.  It has no scale by which to gage worthy or unworthy.  It is no respecter of social class or political party.  And it certainly didn't care that I am a mother of 4+  who cooks almost all of our meals from scratch thank you very much.  Cancer doesn't care!  It simply hits, shatters worlds, and changes lives, forever.

In that darkest part of my nights, when the tears have come and gone and I have exhausted my list of mental gymnastics jumping through loop hole after loop hole looking for the way out, I sit quietly in stillness and realize once again, that I am still not alone.  He is here with me in this nightmare called cancer.  The scriptures begin to come to mind one at a time.  Some nights I have a friend who sends me reminders of the promises.  And my peace returns as slowly I retrace my steps back.

The journey is far from over, but I am 5 marbles closer to being done with this leg of the trip.  Tomorrow I turn in #10.  I have three more radiation treatments that will directly hit my lymph nodes.  The area at my collar bone is raw.  They anticipate it will blister this week and begin weeping.  This will then require it to be covered.   The final 7 treatments are called a Boost.  They will use special settings to concentrate the rays directly over the lumpectomy site.  Then they said to expect that all areas will continue to burn for roughly 5 more days.  So while the end is in site and I am close enough to say that I will be done next week, these next few weeks will be hard.  I keep my reminders close at hand and know that like everything we experience in life, both the good and the bad, This Too Shall Pass. 

This week it has been Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures.  He leads me beside still waters.  He restores my soul.  He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. 

Marble #20

Today I put marble #20 back in the jar. That leaves 15 more to go.  I wish I could tell you that it's actually going by quickly, but I think the everyday factor makes it feel like it's dragging on.  And that "sunburn" you may have heard about from others who have been there, well it's all true. Here's the kicker. When I get a real sunburn, I'm smart enough not to go back out into the sun!  With this I just keep headin back in for more.  And after the last two days, I am red!  I'll tell you what though... Going in with a smile is well worth it.  I continue to meet amazing people.  And that aspect I truly cherish. 

I had that crazy Sunday doctors appointment with my surgeon at the beginning of this last week.  I confess, I was convinced it was on Sunday because he wanted to tell me in person that my Braca gene test came back positive and that it was highly probably that all of my children would end up with cancer.  I was even more certain of this as I was driving past the hospital and several other medical facilities all with EMPTY parking lots.  Actually, the only other car I saw was Dr Kaughmans.  Perfect!   It took a while, but I did manage to reign in my free falling mind and bring my wandering thoughts captive.  I took a deep breath and surrendered the results of the testing to God. With that task completed, I went inside.  

He reviewed the treatments I have already received and covered the ones still to come. He reminded me how fortunate I was to have the triple positive cancer type as it responds very well to the drugs I have received.  He also told me what to expect from both myself and those around me coming into this next phase. I was actually very grateful for this insight, as it was confirmation of what a friend had warned me of so it was a good reminder. But I was wondering why the big delay for "the news" I was anticipating to hear. Then, after roughly 30 minutes worth of an appointment, he flipped the page up in my rapidly growing file and said "Well I guess that's it. You got your Braca results from your oncologist, right?"   

What? No!  Isn't that why I am here, on Sunday, alone with you?  So you can break the bad news to me?  

Then, Without fanfare or ceremony he says simply as if in passing "Oh, I thought she told you. It's fine"

He was doing a kindness to see me (and a few others) to catch up on where I was at, knowing he would be traveling and was booked out til November.   I was convinced he wanted to quickly deliver the bad news.  I know it's for situations much like this and others that you can easily relate to that the Bible advises us to not worry about tomorrow.  Today has enough of its' own stuff to keep us fully occupied. We don't need to borrow future concerns, especially ones that are woven from the same cloth as the Emperors New Clothes. Easier said than done. Believe me I know.  I also know it is possible.  It can be a simple matter of relinquishing your ticket to the spinning merry go round of your thought life.  What does this look like?  Maybe turning the radio up a little louder until you can't help but humm or sing along.  It might mean quoting a favorite scripture that has brought you peace.  It could be finding a quiet place to sit and silently process the situation.  For me it's drawing on the strength of the promise in my anchor verse, and following the sage advise of the author.  

He will keep in perfect peace him who's mind is steadfast because he trusts in The Lord.   Isaiah 26:3

15 marbles left.  One day at a time. One marble each day. And enough grace given simply to handle today. 

Becoming Elastagirl

Flexible - 1: capable of being flexed : Pliant  2: yielding to influence : Tractable  3: characterized by a ready capability to adapt to new, different, or changing requirements,  syn see ELASTIC       -       as defined by Webster. 
As defined by me - 4: a character quality one must fully possess to function and survive with any measure of sanity after receiving a cancer diagnosis.  ex.  oh, sorry, the Dr is running late. Are you able to be flexible? (translation, he will be another hour, or more)   we just need a couple of films,  (translation, umm your gonna have to lay here a bit longer while we figure this out)    We'll see you again next week  (translation, oops, we forgot to tell you they changed your schedule to weekly treatments)  We were able to get you in with the Dr at 9:00, that should give you plenty of time to get home and back for you 1:30 appointment.  I hope you can be flexible.  Your appointment time is Sunday at 11:00   (translation ...... not sure, I am just thankful God doesn't take attendance)   You know, if you did some more stretching and strengthening, you would become more flexible.  Ugh!

As with so many other things in life, I am becoming acutely aware of how important it is to remain flexible and relinquish control.  Of course I had a plan, things I wanted to do this year.  Ideas for getting fit and running another half, but for now, my body is not my own.  It doesn't always do what I want it to and is often crying out for its' own attention.   "my joints always hurt",  "I'm so tired" or "my arm is tingly and it hurts"  "ouch!  That's not right."      Be quiet! I scold.  Your fine!         This is when discouragement drifts in on a dark cloud bringing with it a shadow of the things that I could do before.  I don't want this to be my new normal and I am not feeling flexible on this point.  I want my old normal back.  The one where I felt stronger and not so limited.  The one where cancer wasn't a thorn prickin at the back of my mind with all of it's ugly friends, doubt, discouragement, and fear.

This newly encouraged flexibility has caused me to look around more closely at people in the different offices where I find myself.   I know at least  6 others facing extremely life threatening medical situations and that's just in my own personal circle.  How many others that I pass each day are struggling with the desire for the pre diagnosis time.  You know, the old normal.  How many would give anything to go back to the way it used to be and yet, here they are facing the challenge to be flexible in their current treatments or flat out choosing not to.   I find I am challenged to look beyond the physical and find the greater purpose.

Change.    We are not always big fans of change, are we?  And yet some of our greatest strides forward in life are after a major life shift or trial.  We don't always recognize it at the time.  Sometimes it even takes years before we can step back and see the benefit of situations which required so much flexibility on our part.   And if we knew what the outcome would be... if we could see how it would affect others and benefit so many, including ourselves, would we have the wisdom to choose to continue down that road?  Or would we opt out choosing instead the instant gratification of not having to go through the trial?  Tough questions   -   hard answers. 

I am learning that the illusion of control is not all that gratifying, and yet loosening the grasp goes against my natural tendencies.  But each day I let a little bit go and embrace the changes and exercise my flexibility.

This week I have been reaching out to some of the women around me purposing to make them smile.  I sat in the chemo area with a very lovely lady in her 70's.  She is on the same track I am on and is just about a month behind.  We were sitting there visiting. I had already been hooked up to my drip, she was still waiting.  The nurse came around the corner with her meds too hook her up and she got a little flustered and said "Oh, I'm sorry.  I'll come back"  She meant so he could hook up her drip.  He told her she was fine.  I explained  "This is the new Starbucks.  We come here for an infusion that costs $?? and get to sit with our friends and enjoy free coffee.  Who wouldn't want to be us?"  She giggled and stayed to visit.   Then yesterday, I went back to the radiation area for treatment number 12 and noticed two other ladies with similar sporty hairstyles.  I said "So this is where all the cool kids come to hang out!"  They both started laughing and we started a conversation.  One of the women was almost done with her radiation plan, the other was exactly at the same spot with the same treatment plan as mine.  Somehow this commonality makes us feel better.  We understand each other.  We get the long year it has been and the flexibility that has been asked of us.  And it is so nice to share that, but then be able to laugh together too.  So far, I would have to say the mission was successful as both days  I left smiling and feeling better for having put myself out there.  Today is Wednesday.  Let's both see if we can make someone around us smile!

Hope is the power of being cheerful in circumstances we know to be desperate
G.K. Chesterton

Counting Marbles

Well, I have had four treatments so far and I have to say it isn't really what I expected it to be.  The final prep appointment was annoyingly uncomfortable.  As I was laying there on my custom made mold, with my right arm above my head and my left arm pasted to my side a terrible thing occurred.  One of the lasers was hitting me directly in the left eye.  Don't panic!  It wasn't that kind of laser.  It was a light beam for measuring.  Anyway, this bright green light caused a small tear to form in my eye.  I willed it not to leak out.  I even snuck in a silly prayer that it would stay in place.  But it kept growing until it could no longer fit in the corner of my eye and it began a slow trickle down the side of my face.  Normally this wouldn't be that big of a deal, right?  I would just reach up and wipe it away and be done with it.  Today however, I am to lay completely still while they take images, scans, and measurements of the area to be radiated.  At first, I wasn't too worried.  I figured it would fall and that would be it.  What I failed to realize was that there was a light breeze blowing through the room.  It was causing my poor salty drop to itch as it tried to make its' way.  I determined to not think about it.  I would think about something else like the cramp forming in my leg muscles.  OH GREAT!  That wasn't helpful.  I realized I was starting to twitch.  Concentrate!  I thought.  I just need to concentrate.  I can do this.  Wait!  Shoot.  Is that another one?  A second drop was beginning to follow.  I am not going to make it.  Relax.  If I can just relax... okay that's not working either and now there are two itchy drops.  The twitching was getting worse.  They are going to notice I need to just ask permission to ITCH!  I know this may seem silly, but I was so uncomfortable after an hour of not moving.  My muscles were cramped up and I had to have help getting up and off the table.  Nice! 

The radiation process is not much more than laying completely still, in a very specific position while they turn on the big guns and fire em.  I don't feel anything from the radiation itself. I can hear the different tones and see the machine rotating around me, but that's about it.   I will also say that the radiation chamber is a place were the term modesty is fond memory. To compensate, they provide nice toasty warm blankets to cover all the already covered parts.  The techs are great though and I am quickly getting accustomed to walking in and rippin of my shirt to get er done. 

Another thing I am learning is how ridiculously mathematical this whole process is.  It made my little bean counting heart very happy when they started talking about central axis, peripheral diameters and so many other different numerical measurements.  I almost forgot it was because they wanted to get the exact angles and measurements before they shot me with very specifically measured amounts of radiation.  It is a very precise science that I am so thankful for.  I have met not only the techs who set me up each day for exact depth, angle and locations, I have also met the physicist who determines my radiation  and measures it with diodes to make sure it is accurate and the dosimeter (not sure I am completely accurate on that word, he said it so quickly)  who calculates the exact details of my whole plan.  And then of course there is my radiologist who came up with the plan in the first place.   All of these people have been great, but I will tell you that the physicist and the radiologist are too smart and serious for their own good.  They don't get my CFP jokes.  I layed there on Monday while they were adjusting and measuring and re aligning.  It seemed so serious and intense.  What better time for a good ol wise crack.  I asked "So, are ya ready to nuke me?"  and the answer came back in a very serious tone, "This is a very precise and specifically targeted treatment."   Well duh!  Like I would voluntarily lie here if you were just gonna willy nilly aim that big gun and FIRE it at me!!!  Poor man.  I am gonna have to work on him a bit more I can see. 

Today as I sat in the radiation waiting area, I noticed a small bowl of glass marbles.  I had seen them before, but hadn't sat there long enough to read the sign beside it and see the small gauze bags.  The sign said to take as many marbles as you had days of treatment and then each day put one back to count down.  I happen to be the person that not only loves to do lists, I am the person that will write in the item I just did if it wasn't on the list just so I could cross it off.  Yes, I am one of them.  You might be able to relate.  I am also the person who loves count downs so as you can imagine the idea of decreasing my bag of marbles as I knock another one off was very appealing.  So today, I collected 31 marbles.  Tomorrow I get to put one back and that will feel good.

PS - My oncologist called me herself with the results from the echo I had on Monday.  Ejection valve output is back up to 55%.  Let the infusions resume.  Thank you Lord!

Psalms 57:5
Be exalted, O God, above the highest heavens!  May your glory shine over all the earth.

CFP's

It is time to unveil the mystery behind the initials CFP.  You have heard me toss it out into conversation with out any explanation, leaving it to hang there like the lone pepper in an Olive Garden salad. Oh sure, you know it's there, but why?  Is anyone going to eat it? What is its' purpose I mean after all, it is Olive Garden.  At least that explains the 3-4 olives lingering at the bottom of your salad bowl.  And whatever happened to the giant olives they used to put in there?  Anyway...  It has been a funny little side joke between my sister-in-law and myself.  Actually, she coined the phrase.  It came about as a result of my insensitive or tacky comments about cancer, namely, my own cancer.  CFP stand for Cancer Faux Pas and it might look something like this:

Tami :  (Oh look!  M & M's)  grabbing a handful

Concerned Friend : (You aren't going to eat those are you?)

Tami : (Why? What are they going to do?  Give me Caner?)

Concerned Friend : (                         ) Shocked and speechless

Here is another example that I am sure my kids will attest to.

Mom:  (Hey, would you guys help me clean up the backyard and oh by the way I think there are rats in the greenhouse we need to get out.  Thanks)

Kids:  (Really?  Are you kidding?  Rats?  What are we supposed to do?)

Mom: (come on guys. I have cancer and could really use your help.  I am still really tired and my joints ache.  Can't you just help me by getting this cleaned out.  The garden could use weeding too btw.)

How about the one I shared at the beginning of this journey.  It came from a great kid who is notorious for CFP's and other FP's and I love this about him. 

I think it was right before my first surgery, the kids all had a party to show their support.  Several of the teens from my running class were there and they had all pitched in to raise money and get these Team Tami bracelets.  One of the kids shouted out into the big group of people "Who needs breasts when you have friends?"  Good point    With the left over money, they purchased Zaycon Chicken breasts.  Not to be outdone, I felt it fitting to add "And look I have plenty of spare breasts now anyway!"

This one I didn't do, but we thought about it and I actually told the poor border patrol that I was going to do it.

Tami: approaching the border with kids and mom in the car.  The suggestion comes in to wait until the middle of the questions and then casually pull off the wig as he is looking at my passport. 

After we told the very kind border patrol of our plot he said (oh no, I can't deal with that one.  I am retiring in one year)   ??? 


Please understand this is not intended to poke fun at anyone else with cancer.  This has been strictly directed at myself and my cancer experiences.  I think most of you already know this about me, but just in case I wanted to make this very clear.  I am in no way minimizing the cancer journey that others are on.  I am simply choosing to pepper mine with cayenne and keep it spicy.

I know there are a lot of other incidents where I am guilty of the CFP, but I would rather hear from you....  please commenet back or message me your favorite CFP that you heard me engage in.  And please don't be shy. 

 

 

Radiation Prep

Last week began the "planning" phase of my radiation treatments.  I guess this is good.  Not like I want them nuking unnecessary parts.  I have to say it is an interesting process.  You have probably heard about the tattoos?  This is that part.  I went in Friday to talk with my radiology Dr. and he re confirmed the plan.  7 weeks, 35 days, every weekday.  

In order to make sure they are hitting the same spot every time they do a few things.  First order of business... to make a body mold.  I realize this sounds a bit intriguing and maybe oddly fun, but I assure you it is not that exciting.   They have you lay down on a rock hard bean bag that has had all of the air sucked out.  They position your body the way they want it for during the actual radiation and then they pump the bag full of air.  This loosens up all the beans and allows them to continue to form it around you.  So with my hand on my head and arm resting to the side they push and shove the form until it looks like what they want.  Then they suck all the air back out and it begins to tightly form around you.  "OOPS!  We forgot that we are doing your lymph nodes too.  I need you to turn your head to the left.  Sorry.  I can't fill it back up and let your head shape form because then I would have to do it all over again."   Oh dang it.  So I get to lay there with a bump in the side of my head every time I go in.  Oh well.  It's just a little uncomfortable.  I can live with it.  After all it's not like they are pumping me full of toxins or anything crazy like that.

After the body forming portion of the appointment, we come to the mapping session.  This involves red permanent markers, wires with tape on them, and small lead bb's being placed in strange and unmentionable places.   By the time I was done, I looked like the night sky in late summer.  I had at least the Big Dipper happening and after they tattooed the two dots on, I think one could argue Cassiopeia could be seen.   Yes, I now can say I have my first and second tattoos.  Not fun or daring.  Not permanently displaying a symbol of hope, rebellion, or even religion, but tiny little permanent reminders.  Reminders for the radiation techs to pay attention and keep the red beam on the little black dots so I don't loose anything else.   With all of my red markings, my special bbs and the wiring along the scar lines I am ready for my photo shoot.  Yes, I did say photo shoot.  And yes, with a camera.  Ugh.  Really?  More pictures of my sisters?  To my real sisters, I only wish it was with you all. Clearly I made it through all of the run way blitz.  Then they ran me through the scanner with all my hardware in place.   I tell you what... this is gonna be some kind of plan.

I have another planning appointment this Friday.  I guess they wanna get it right when they are lightin you up.  They said it was another longer appointment.  Then the real fun begins.  Actually, I have heard from multiple sources the actual treatments themselves aren't bad at all. 

Monday will be a busy day.  I will have my first treatment of radiation and my echo cardio gram to check on my heart.  I have been faithfully walking and trying to strengthen it back up.  I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little worried about it.  My radiologist has the same issue with his heart and it meant no more running.  Okay.  I guess if that is the worst of it, I will adjust, but I really don't like how it feels.  I can actually feel the difference, especially at certain times like during running or if I get too hot.  Nor do I like the idea of being 41 with heart issues as well as already having had cancer once.  Since neither of these things are issues I can control, I will do my best to let them go.  I was describing how I envision entertaining the what if's to my friend the other night.  I see it as trying to tie a boat anchor around my neck and call it jewelry.  No one does that.  It's not helpful, it wouldn't look good, it's not useful and everyone knows it would work better as a belt, Right?!?  No.  But seriously.  It's just the next step in the plan.  And check it out!  I have HAIR!

Hebrews 4:16

Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.