Another Bell

I want to let you in on a little secret.

There is no One Bell when it comes to cancer treatment.

When I first started chemo back in June, I walked by The Bell each time I walked into the treatment facility, and each time I walked out, counting days until I could ring it. 

My dad was there with me on my last chemo day. And when I finally got to ring that bell, it was so special that we were both teary. The nurses cheered and clapped and snapped pictures, and even mailed me a certificate.

And then 3 weeks later, I had another infusion. Not chemo, of course, so it was MUCH easier to tolerate. But still, the journey didn't end with that bell.

A few weeks after that, I began daily radiation sessions, and again, I've been walking past a bell every day, counting down the days until I get to ring this bell, because, as it turns out, when you finish a phase of treatment, whatever that phase is, you get to ring the bell.

So I understand now that it's less about being finished, and more about marking off a milestone in the journey. 

And so today is another day, another Bell, another part of my journey ended so that I can keep on keepin' on.

This time, I full on cried as I read the poem. Because I DID IT. I rocked this, and it is done. Not the whole journey, mind you, but this big milestone, radiation, is FINISHED.

Hallelujah, and Merry Christmas to me!

So, you got my Christmas card, huh?

I love sending Christmas cards, and I love getting them. My favorites are the ones who send a letter telling what all is going on with them, and while I always intend to do that, I think I've managed it once. I figure since I've already got the blog going, it's easier to write here than to put it in a letter.

This has been a roller coaster of a year, for sure.  We spent the first part of the year finishing up repairs from Harvey.  Last August, our home flooded while we were in Buffalo at Mom & Dad's. The boys and I spent 4 months living with them while James oversaw repairs to make our house livable, and we moved back in last December. Even after we moved back in, there were several things we still needed to do, but we're finally done with everything! On top of that, I think I've put more effort into decorating this house, post-Harvey, than any home we've previously lived in. It feels good to feel at home.  Oh, and some of you may not know that we moved in April 2017, just four months before Harvey!

Jay turned 5 in July, and started Kindergarten in August. It was a rough start, but he's finally really enjoying it, and he's doing SO well. He goes to a private kinder at the church where he's been in preschool/mother's day out since he was 2, and has a really small class.

Luke turned 2 in October, and he's starting to say lots of words, and even putting them together. He has been a little slower to talk - probably because Jay is ALWAYS talking. (Just this week I said something to Jay about only talking when it was his turn, and not when he's not supposed to at school, and he said, But Mama, when I have something to say, I just can't hold it in!) Luke misses Jay while he's at school, but he's been spending some time at a babysitter and loves going there to play.

James celebrated 5 years with Dianal in March, and we celebrated our 8th wedding anniversary in November!

And then, there's me. In January, I found a breast lump, which was diagnosed as breast cancer in March. In April, I had a right mastectomy. At that time, we learned that it was more invasive than the March biopsy had indicated; however, it was a very treatable type (ER+/PR+/HER2+), so I'm looking at a 95% cure rate. If you're curious, I'm 33.

I had 6 rounds of chemo from June to September, which was one infusion every 3 weeks. As of this writing, I'm down to 6 more sessions of daily radiation - my last one is on the 18th! I will continue to receive an infusion every 3 weeks until next summer, but it's two medications with few side effects. Sometime next year, I'll have reconstruction, which is a two-surgery process with 3-4 months of recovery in between.

This blog arose from the need to share my journey with those who wanted to follow along, so feel free to go back through old posts where I give a lot more detail about each step of the process.

And if you didn't get a card from me, I'm sorry - I know there are some friends checking in here whose addresses I don't have! But, here are some of the pictures I included on the cards, so you don't feel too abandoned.

  

  

Radiation Update

Woops, y'all, it's been ages since I posted! Here's what's new.

Radiation is going well. I started on October 30. I drive down to an annex office right outside of the Medical Center (aka, free parking) 5 days a week, but the appointment is short. I'm usually in and out in 20 minutes, except the one day a week I have to see the doc, and then it's more like an hour or so. But, it takes about an hour driving each way. I am down to 7 more sessions - 4 boost and 3 regular, and I'm SO ready to be done. The radiation itself isn't so bad, but the driving and juggling appointments and kids and life is wearing me out. 

I'll have a total of 28 regular sessions, where they zap the entire breast/armpit/collarbone area, and then 5 boost sessions where they only zap the area around the incision. This was supposed to be sequential, but I'm having some major skin irritation under my arm, so they decided to pause the regular sessions, do the boost, and then we will go back and finish up the last of the regular sessions. The official name for this is a "sandwich boost" and it gives my skin a chance to recover. 

I also have about 47 creams I'm using. At night, I use a thick cream recommended by my plastic surgeon to coat the whole area, from my lower ribs, up over my shoulder and down my shoulder blade, and under my arm. Right after treatment, I have a thinner cream that the radiation oncologist recommended called Miaderm. Now that I'm dealing with some skin irritation, I have a prescription called Silvadine, aka, Magic Cream. After just three uses, my skin feels dramatically better. The downside is that it stains clothes... so I'm wearing James's old work shirts. (So if you see me around, he has 3-4 of the same shirt, and I'm wearing them all - not just the same one several days in a row!)

I have been really lucky to find a great babysitter in my neighborhood for Luke. He loves going to "Tessie" house (Jessica, or Jessie for short), and even packs his own backpack every day with his blankie, paci, and water, along with some random toys. He also pretends to drive to her house and tells me bye-bye, and asks to go there on days he doesn't have to. If you know Luke, you know this is HUGE because prior to the last couple months, I'd never really left him anywhere successfully except with family!

And that's the story of radiation, which is kind of all-consuming right now. I've been sick for, I dunno, about 6-7 weeks now? with a cough and runny nose. I'm finally almost over it all, thank goodness. Still a lingering cough that just doesn't want to go away, even with Mucinex. Whatever, I like sounding like a 70-year-old smoker, it's sexy.

I'm still doing my Herceptin/Perjeta infusions every 3 weeks. Sort of. I did #9 this past Monday, but I had a big delay for #8. My first and second ones after chemo ended (so, #6 & #7) were at the Baytown hospital, which should have been more convenient, but was just a big headache. I loved the nurses there, but didn't care for the doctor. See, I kept my main oncologist, Dr. Patel, but she doesn't have privileges at Baytown, so her colleague was signing my orders, and... he was not Dr. Patel. I went in 4 different times to try to receive infusion #8, and finally got it on the 4th try because she was on the phone telling him to give it to me, I think. He was delaying it because some of my blood counts were low, but these medications don't cause that, so delaying didn't do any good. So, to make a long story short, #9 was back at the Med Center (where I got all my chemo sessions) and it was nice and smooth. I'll be going there for the remainder of my sessions.

That's about all going on over here. I'm ready to finish radiation so that I can relax a bit and enjoy Christmas!

Overcoming Adversity, Part 3

I know you've been waiting on pins and needles for this, the final installment of my Overcoming Adversity talk from MOPS.

If you haven't already, stop and go read Part 1 and Part 2 before you continue. I'll wait.

Okay, here we go...

3. Focus Forward

I could spend a lot of time asking why.

Why me, Lord??? What did I do to deserve this awful diagnosis?

And on a more practical level, why me... what choices did I make with regard to my body and my health, or what have I been exposed to in my lifetime, that could have made my body turn against me like this?

But in reality, those kinds of questions aren't helpful, because the truth is, it doesn't matter why.

Let me say that again.

It
Doesn't
Matter
Why

Knowing why doesn't make me able to suddenly go back and change anything. What matters is, I am HERE, in the midst of this mess, and I don't want to stay HERE.

So instead of wasting my time asking why, and feeling sorry for myself, I choose to focus my energy and my thoughts forward. Here are some more relevant questions I ask myself:

What do I need to do TODAY to get through this? Tomorrow?
What am I going to do with myself when this is all over?
What parts of my life - the good stuff - can I hold onto right now, during the crazy, so that I don't feel robbed?
How can I use this crappy situation to lift others up, and bring glory to God?

Y'all.
Being diagnosed with bc at 33 sucks. I'm not trying to sugar coat that. But by doing these three things -
     Accepting help,
     Watching my inputs, and
     Focusing forward,
I am pretty confident that I'm in a position to walk this journey in the best way I can.

I might have been given a cactus, but I don't have to sit on it!

I will be your God throughout your lifetime, until your hair is white with age. I made you, and I will care for you. I will carry you along and I will save you!

Isaiah 46:4

So, my current status: I finally got my infusion on Friday (attempt #4). My white counts are back up where they need to be, but my platelets are even lower. Off to the hematologist I go on Tuesday, to try and find a cause and/or a solution for this. 

In case you're wondering, platelets are what makes your blood clot, so that you don't bleed out over a minor cut. Mine aren't dangerously low, so I'm not super concerned, but they're trending downward so we've got to reverse that trend before they get too low.

I'm feeling great overall - I'm just about over a bad cold, and the infusion wasn't bad. Radiation is going well - I actually look forward to it because they have a jigsaw puzzle in the waiting room, and I love puzzles!

Overcoming Adversity, Part 2

As promised, here's part 2 of my Overcoming Adversity chat from MOPS. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go back and read Part 1.

2.  Watch your inputs.

I truly believe that whatever you put into yourself, whatever you fill yourself up with, is what is going to come out of you.

Think of a sponge. You put a sponge in plain water and then squeeze, clean water is coming out. You soak a sponge in soapy water, and you're going to get soapy water when you squeeze it. And if you follow that soapy water with a quick dunk in some clean water, and squeeze it again? You're still going to get soapy water.

So for me, that means being pretty strict about what shows I watch, what music I listen to, what I read on Facebook. I'm not saying I only watch G-rated movies. Well, mostly I do, because of the boys. What I'm saying is, you will not catch me watching something that's going to make me cry, even if it's "a good cry" moment at the end of a chick flick, because I've found that that just brings me down too much. There's no This Is Us on my DVR. I'm very diligent about the content I consume on Facebook and just online in general. The "hide post" button is my friend.

Life is too precious to be clouded by sadness, bitterness, anger, and all that other nasty stuff that doesn't even pertain to me, so I filter it out.

Some of my favorite scriptures that I've been leaning on:

Great is our Lord, and abundant in power. His understanding is beyond measure.  Psalm 147:5

Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. 

Ephesians 3:20

I am the Lord, the God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me? 

Jeremiah 32:27

If you're wondering what's going on with my treatment.... I'm 6 days into radiation, and it's going great. No side effects to speak of, hallelujah. And they have a jigsaw puzzle in the waiting room, which I'm really loving, even if I only get a minute or two to play some days!

My blood work is still a little off, and the doctor I've been seeing is STILL delaying my infusion because of that, which is frustrating. If he delays again, I'm going back to my normal doctor at the medical center. She's not sure why he's delaying it, since these meds don't impact the bloodwork and it's just leftovers from chemo.

Also, I have a cold, and it's the pits, but hopefully I'm on the mend!

I promise to share Part 3 sooner than I got around to posting Part 2... Honestly? I forgot to hit post, woops!

There's Always Something...

Well, I was all set to publish Part 2 of my MOPS talk today, but something came up. There's always something, right?

So yesterday, I was scheduled to receive my Herceptin/Perjeta infusion (second try for this round), but my blood work still wasn't right, so we had to delay it again. The plan is to try again Monday.

I have questions outstanding to my primary oncologist, but that's neither here nor there.

I was SO frustrated when the doctor told me we had to postpone AGAIN. He walked away and, to quote my friend Mrs. Billie, my eyes leaked a bit. Cancer is just so freaking inconvenient, amiright? It just gets in the way of everything.

So, I'm leaving the hospital after my non-infusion. A nice lady asked me which floor I needed on the elevator. Then she asked me how my day was going. I briefly considered complaining, but just said it was alright and asked how hers was. I'll admit, I had kind of a "woe is me" tone to my voice, but I didn't say anything else. 

She reflexively answered that it was fine, or some other semi-positive, non-thinking response we give strangers by default.

Then: My husband is in ICU.

Oh, I'm so sorry, I told her.

She continued: But they took the breathing tube out. He's breathing on his own now.

That's wonderful news, I told her. That's an improvement, a big step!

But there was more to the story: He tried to commit suicide, she continued.

I was absolutely floored. I told her I was so sorry. 

It happens, she said.

As if it was a frequent occurrence.

A non-event.

Forgetting your lunch at home, happens.

Getting a flat tire, happens.

Being late to the dentist, happens.

But your husband attempting suicide? It doesn't just happen.

Except, for her, it happens. I don't know if it has happened before, or if it will happen again. But my goodness, my heart just broke for her. I had no words, and I awkwardly hugged her.

And I realized, more completely than possibly ever before, that there's always, always, always something to be thankful for.

My family is healthy and happy. I am winning this battle, navigating this inconvenient detour in the middle of my own happy, healthy life. I am loved and supported by SO many. My daily needs are met. I could go on and on. There is so so much to be thankful for.

And you know what?

She might have found something to be thankful for as well. "My husband is going to be alright," she might be thinking. "It could be worse: we could be facing cancer, like that poor lady on the elevator."

You never really know what roads others are traveling. And you never know if your road looks better, or worse, than theirs.

But regardless of what road you're on, or where you're at on that road, there is always, always, always something to be thankful for.

Choose to see those things today.

Overcoming Adversity, Part 1

A few weeks ago, I was invited to be a part of a panel of ladies speaking on the topic of Overcoming Adversity at our local MOPS meeting.

If you aren't familiar with MOPS, it's Mothers of Preschoolers, and it's a Christian moms' group where we get together, eat yummy food, hear some uplifting words, maybe do a little craft or service project, and just spend time pouring into each other, and remembering that we don't have to walk this phase of life alone. It's a great group, and I've had the privilege of being a part of this group for five years now, so I was very honored to be asked to speak.

When I received the request, I was elated, and immediately responded that I'd love to speak. Within minutes, I knew exactly what I was going to say, because God is cool like that. Y'all, I'm not a person who enjoys speaking in front of more than about 3 people, and we're talking about 75 ladies. But even so, I was SO excited for the entire month or so between being asked and getting to speak.

I thought it'd be nice to share with you the words I spoke to the mamas at our meeting, because I feel like they were God-given, and they're relevant to you even if you're not fighting the same fight as me. 

So many friends tell me that I'm an inspiration, or they admire my cheerful outlook through my journey. I can be cliche, and tell you that "God is carrying me through." That is so very true, but it's not really the most helpful thing to say, because in reality, it's kind of hard to "just stay focused on God" when your world is turned upside down by an unexpected diagnosis and you suddenly find yourself incapable of living your life in the same way as before.

So instead, I'm going to give you three concrete steps that I have found to be helpful for me. They are:

1. Accept help
2. Watch your inputs
3. Focus forward

I think these are valid things to do when life is chugging merrily along, but when life hits you with the hard stuff, these things become vital to survive. One of my favorite verses that I've leaned on through all of this is about getting into position, and I think these three things put me in the best position for winning this fight.

In 2 Chronicles 20, King Jehoshaphat was surrounded by three different enemies, and facing an unwinnable battle. He called on God's people to pray and fast in preparation for the upcoming fight, and after three days, the prophet said to him:

But you will not even need to fight. Take your positions; then stand still and watch the Lord's victory. He is with you... Do not be afraid or discouraged. Go out against the enemy, for the Lord is with you!

2 Chronicles 20:17

A little disclaimer: I definitely have my down days. Days when I cry, and wallow in my emotions, throw a full on pity party, and just generally feel like I can't fight this fight. But by and large, these are the things I try to do as much as possible to get through this battle.

1. Accept help.

When friends hear that you're going through something, they want to fix it. And sadly, they can't. The next best thing, though, is if they can help make your problem suck a little less.

Think of it this way: when you are the giver of help, whether it's holding the door for a disabled person, or bringing a meal to someone after surgery, how do you feel? Good, right? So when you're the one going through a trial, and you tell your friends no, you don't need anything but thanks for asking, you're robbing them of that feel-good feeling.

There are certain things that only YOU are able to do when you're going through a trial. For me, that's showing up for chemo. For doctor's appointments. For radiation. It's taking care of myself, resting when my body says No More! Taking medicine that helps one thing, but causes it's own issue. I am the only one who can do those things. 

But, like it or not, there are things that are normally a part of my wheelhouse that I can let go of. I am not the only one who can feed my family. Load the dishwasher. Do the laundry. Rock my baby to sleep. I may feel, in my heart of hearts, that I do those things best, because I'm Mama. I know the best way to put the plates in the dishwasher so they get clean and the whole sink full of dishes fits. But, can someone else take over those tasks for a little while, without my interference, and everyone survive? Absolutely. It's okay if the towels are folded differently than I prefer, honest.

So don't be too prideful to accept help when it's offered. And if it's not offered? Speak up about needing a hand. And while you're at it, tell people what is actually helpful for you. People love helping, truly, so give them the opportunity to help you, so that you can focus on what you need to do to get through the battle.

And, because I'm just a little bit mean, you're going to have to come back another day to find out what else I had to say to the lovely MOPS mamas!