So, I wasn't doing nearly as well as I thought I was with the prospects of being diagnosed with breast cancer (of any form). I have this ridiculous paranoia that when I speak of my fears and angers that I am not trusting God. How many times have I encouraged someone to, "just trust God," to take care of them. Although I informed my friends of my situation, my response was "it will be what it will be." I even tried to laugh it off with the thought of getting an upgrade. However, the reality of what was going on inside of me was apparent as Monday drew closer.
For some poorly thought-out reason (or actually no thought given), I drove Jay and my mom to my Monday appointment. That was not a good idea. I could hardly focus on driving, my speeds were really out of control and I fretted the entire way that we were late. My heart was racing, my stomach churning and I can not begin to tell you what the mundane car chatter was about. I was so tense, my shoulders and upper back carrying the load. I practically ran to the office, leaving my family behind. The waiting room was suffocating, I could not sit still. The "patient information room" was even worse. My stomach continued its roller coaster and I thought I might vomit. My head was spinning as the reality of what I faced seemed to keep smacking me. The doctor came in and introduced herself to all members of my party (mom, dad and Jay). To quote her, "I really believe we have nothing to worry about." I wanted clarification. "So, it is nothing?" My body almost folded in half. I flopped back on the sofa I was sitting upon. The bile still rising to my mouth. It was over. I was done. Was it really true? As I wrote earlier, the doctor confessed to me that she was very relieved. She did not expect the results I received (a fibrocystic condition that presented itself a little oddly). She was very worried. I will go back in 6 months for another follow-up.
The question is: If I truly believe that God takes care of me, if I trust Him completely, should my reaction have been so severe? I thought if I verbalized how I was really feeling, I would hear the same words that I have told to countless others - obvious, but not helpful words at the time. I would be labeled, perceived as weak spiritually. I would be seen as the boy who cried wolf, worrying over what was unfathomable. To write this is difficult, but I am laying it all out on the table. I know God is in control and He will take care of me, but that does little to minimize the stress and anxiety of what I know the journey of cancer to be. Shouldn't it be different?
Friday, August 22, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
The first day of the rest of your life
Actually, I have always hated that that line - tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life. Like somehow every thing prior to that has been erased. Anyway, it just was too perfect of a title for this post considering it encompasses first days school, my medical journey (like there haven't been enough posts on that this year) and today (which was yesterday's first day of the rest of my life, right?).
The first day for E and S was on Tuesday. Their attitudes were fairly positive - S more than E. We are working on new routines this year - alarm clocks, preparations the night before, more responsibilities with supplies, etc. As I posted last year about the first of school, Sadie has refused to wear the cute plaid jumpers with peter pan colors. Therefore, when cleaning out drawers, I packed all that up in a tub for Lily. Imagine my complete, near pass-out shock when Sadie said she wanted to wear a jumper on the first day. O-kkkk. Out came the tub and a jumper. I pulled out some polo shirts for her to choose from for under the jumper. Her response: No, mom, you wear those round colored shirts. Don't we have some of those? Out came the tub...again. She was pretty pleased with wearing it, along with her pink converse low-tops. She came home happy and excited about her year - along with the discipline process which involves money (possibly her love language?)
Ethan headed off fine, but came home in a bit of a mood. A friend that was on the original class list from school was evidently switched last minute and so that brought a bit of disappointment. He is not really one for new situations and I think he just needs a little more time. My efforts at growing him with a self-worth measured only by God is certainly being tested already this year. Comparisons to others is starting and his desire to be included concerns me. I just need to pray a little more fervently, though I think a lot of this must be learned through experience. And maybe, just maybe I am more sensitive to this because it plagued me so much in my youth. I did not know God. I had no measure except for the world. I believe that my history would be vastly different had I a different set of glasses through which to see my environment. Oh, and it should be mentioned that E already misplaced his jacket and forgot one assignment at home and this is just day 3. Pray for us.
Lily is lost. It doesn't help that we have been separated some this week because of work. She is very clingy and it hurts my heart. I realized today that she has never really been apart from me. If she has, it has almost always included E and S (her own unique Linus blanket). She is becoming aware of herself, the world and her place in it. It is a little perplexing to me because her head knowledge is so advanced, but the awareness of her environment, etc. seems to lag. On the other hand, she is so social, making friends wherever she goes. She is more than ready to start school which begins after Labor Day. We are still teetering in the balance of nap/no nap land. So tough to let that one go and deal with come crankiness late in the afternoon.
I just put them to bed. Lily was almost asleep before I officially tucked her in. These early mornings and varying schedules must be taking its toll.
I am still groping, blindly, through my days. This whole work thing/mom thing/wife thing is still completely unpredictable. I had a revelation during the last few weeks:
I like predictability and stability. I do not handle change well.
There, I said it. Gone are the carefree days of my college and my young adult life. I am not the person I was in my early 20s (but who is?). I never thought I would morph into a set in my ways kind of gal. I mean, I hitchhiked/backpacked through Africa for Pete's sake. Of course, I shudder at that thought now. But, to admit this change has taken place is tough. I am sure most of this is a natural progression. Children, economic responsibilities limit your choices, right? Stability is good, right? I feel like I am trying to convince myself. I should stop. Admitting it is half the battle. I made a good start tonight.
The first day for E and S was on Tuesday. Their attitudes were fairly positive - S more than E. We are working on new routines this year - alarm clocks, preparations the night before, more responsibilities with supplies, etc. As I posted last year about the first of school, Sadie has refused to wear the cute plaid jumpers with peter pan colors. Therefore, when cleaning out drawers, I packed all that up in a tub for Lily. Imagine my complete, near pass-out shock when Sadie said she wanted to wear a jumper on the first day. O-kkkk. Out came the tub and a jumper. I pulled out some polo shirts for her to choose from for under the jumper. Her response: No, mom, you wear those round colored shirts. Don't we have some of those? Out came the tub...again. She was pretty pleased with wearing it, along with her pink converse low-tops. She came home happy and excited about her year - along with the discipline process which involves money (possibly her love language?)
Ethan headed off fine, but came home in a bit of a mood. A friend that was on the original class list from school was evidently switched last minute and so that brought a bit of disappointment. He is not really one for new situations and I think he just needs a little more time. My efforts at growing him with a self-worth measured only by God is certainly being tested already this year. Comparisons to others is starting and his desire to be included concerns me. I just need to pray a little more fervently, though I think a lot of this must be learned through experience. And maybe, just maybe I am more sensitive to this because it plagued me so much in my youth. I did not know God. I had no measure except for the world. I believe that my history would be vastly different had I a different set of glasses through which to see my environment. Oh, and it should be mentioned that E already misplaced his jacket and forgot one assignment at home and this is just day 3. Pray for us.
Lily is lost. It doesn't help that we have been separated some this week because of work. She is very clingy and it hurts my heart. I realized today that she has never really been apart from me. If she has, it has almost always included E and S (her own unique Linus blanket). She is becoming aware of herself, the world and her place in it. It is a little perplexing to me because her head knowledge is so advanced, but the awareness of her environment, etc. seems to lag. On the other hand, she is so social, making friends wherever she goes. She is more than ready to start school which begins after Labor Day. We are still teetering in the balance of nap/no nap land. So tough to let that one go and deal with come crankiness late in the afternoon.
I just put them to bed. Lily was almost asleep before I officially tucked her in. These early mornings and varying schedules must be taking its toll.
I am still groping, blindly, through my days. This whole work thing/mom thing/wife thing is still completely unpredictable. I had a revelation during the last few weeks:
I like predictability and stability. I do not handle change well.
There, I said it. Gone are the carefree days of my college and my young adult life. I am not the person I was in my early 20s (but who is?). I never thought I would morph into a set in my ways kind of gal. I mean, I hitchhiked/backpacked through Africa for Pete's sake. Of course, I shudder at that thought now. But, to admit this change has taken place is tough. I am sure most of this is a natural progression. Children, economic responsibilities limit your choices, right? Stability is good, right? I feel like I am trying to convince myself. I should stop. Admitting it is half the battle. I made a good start tonight.
Monday, August 18, 2008
whoooooo hooooooooo!
Great news - if you didn't already figure it out from the title. I have a benign condition called fibrocystic something. Most women get it in their lifetime. Mine presented itself a little differently and was only on one side. The doctor said she was extremely relieved, because she was expecting much different results. (confirmed that my mom and I were reading her correctly). So, I will get a MRI in 6 months to make sure all is normal and no more areas of growth. Zippy! Now, on to figuring out why my cycle is so out of whack - 2 weeks here, 3 weeks there. Here's hoping to 28 days this month!
I have much more to write about this - things I have gleaned, etc. But, I am making a great, homemade meal for my family to celebrate! I will try to get more down in the next week.
I have much more to write about this - things I have gleaned, etc. But, I am making a great, homemade meal for my family to celebrate! I will try to get more down in the next week.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
quick clarification
There are many possibilities of these biopsies. They could, in fact, be benign. I don't want anyone to think I have been told stage 0 or 1 at all. It is just at this point, if the pathology suggests early, non-invasive cancer I would be stage 0. Just trying to make sure the understanding is that we just don't know and all "conclusions" are merely subjective at this point, based on some research, verbiage from doctors and history. Pray for clear results.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Considerably More Worrisome
Interesting title. So, let me tell you how it came into my ears today.
As a reader of this blog, you know that my sister, Ansley, died a year and a half ago from breast cancer. Even though we have no familial history of cancer, let alone breast cancer, except for Ansley, who was diagnosed premenopausal, I am in what is considered a "high-risk" category (20-25% chance of cancer in her lifetime). Therefore, I have been told to not only begin the process of yearly mammograms, but to add to it a yearly breast MRI. This was my third year of a mammo and my second year of MRIs. Every year I get a little uptight, a little anxious for these tests In my mind, the threat of cancer always seems to be like a pack of hunting dogs heading to me in the distance.
Thankfully, this year's mammogram came back normal. Two weeks ago I had my MRI at 10:15am. At 2:00pm, my phone rang, caller id said: Breast Center of Greensboro. I said out loud to a dear friend, "Well, this can't be good," but thought it would be about insurance. I was informed that there were changes in this MRI in comparison to last year. Three areas were showing an increase in contrast. (Atypical/cancer cells take an increase in contrast therefore they "light" up more on the scans.)
They recommended that I come in for an ultrasound and biopsy, if they weren't able to locate an area large enough, I would need to have an MRI-assisted biopsy.
Say what? My heart sank, tears were in my eyes and I had to seriously fight to control my emotions which were racing.
As we were leaving for Ocracoke the next day, I was not thrilled at the prospect of waiting. I mentioned that to the doctor. She offered for me to come to her office right away for the ultrasound and possible biopsy. Off I went, making calls to family along the way.
My mom met me in the lobby and it was extremely hard not to let our emotions take control. There were so many levels of remembrance for us and they were all coming back.
The ultrasound did not pick up anything large enough to be testing, which was good news. Small, actually nothing in size, is good. However, the doctor continued to recommend having an MRI core biopsy done.
So, today I went to have this procedure done. After consulting with the doctor who was performing this procedure, I came to the understanding that in my case, even atypical cells (even if non-cancerous) tend to grow, at some point, into cancer. Most likely, if that is the diagnosis, they will need to be removed.
The procedure itself was long due to the scanning before, during and after the procedure. It was uncomfortable (laying perfectly still for nearly an hour), painful with three long sticks of numbing medicine and bizarre (sensation of a bug-like object in your breast). The original intent was to take one biopsy at a location on the bottom left side. However, after the first set of scans, the doctor told me that she would like to go ahead and do two biopsies because of the spot on the top. I hear that news while laying flat on my stomach, boobs hanging free-fall through openings in the table and unable to move.
After the procedure was over, I asked why she decided to take the additional biopsy. She said, "because the location at the top was considerably more worrisome and I don't want to have to go in again." Yay for her proactivity. Pooh for that description.
After that appointment I had to go back to their main office to get a mammogram done.
I know - what? During the biopsies, they inserted two tiny clips in the exact areas where they took tissue. That way, if a surgeon has to go in to remove anything, he/she will know exactly where to go. And yes, they will remain in my body - forever. A little odd, but she didn't think anything about it. Unfortunately, that was really not a pleasant experience as I started bleeding from one biopsy site and had to have all my dressings redone.
I am sure that this is all a little shocking and the "it just can't be" response is probably there as well. I am good. Really good, in fact. This is going to sound a little crazy, but I think this is going to be pretty easy. It certainly has been caught early - way ahead of Ansley. I will, most likely be a stage 0 or stage 1. I can get this all behind me and hey...might get a chance of an upgrade! Goodbye sag-city!
So, say a little prayer for me and my family. This is a road we are all-too familiar with and it is uncomfortable at times. The children know nothing and I will keep it that way until absolutely necessary.
Time that I grab another ice pack out of the freezer and take some more ibuprofen. I will end with one of my favorite mantras: God is good all the time and all the time, HE IS GOOD!
As a reader of this blog, you know that my sister, Ansley, died a year and a half ago from breast cancer. Even though we have no familial history of cancer, let alone breast cancer, except for Ansley, who was diagnosed premenopausal, I am in what is considered a "high-risk" category (20-25% chance of cancer in her lifetime). Therefore, I have been told to not only begin the process of yearly mammograms, but to add to it a yearly breast MRI. This was my third year of a mammo and my second year of MRIs. Every year I get a little uptight, a little anxious for these tests In my mind, the threat of cancer always seems to be like a pack of hunting dogs heading to me in the distance.
Thankfully, this year's mammogram came back normal. Two weeks ago I had my MRI at 10:15am. At 2:00pm, my phone rang, caller id said: Breast Center of Greensboro. I said out loud to a dear friend, "Well, this can't be good," but thought it would be about insurance. I was informed that there were changes in this MRI in comparison to last year. Three areas were showing an increase in contrast. (Atypical/cancer cells take an increase in contrast therefore they "light" up more on the scans.)
They recommended that I come in for an ultrasound and biopsy, if they weren't able to locate an area large enough, I would need to have an MRI-assisted biopsy.
Say what? My heart sank, tears were in my eyes and I had to seriously fight to control my emotions which were racing.
As we were leaving for Ocracoke the next day, I was not thrilled at the prospect of waiting. I mentioned that to the doctor. She offered for me to come to her office right away for the ultrasound and possible biopsy. Off I went, making calls to family along the way.
My mom met me in the lobby and it was extremely hard not to let our emotions take control. There were so many levels of remembrance for us and they were all coming back.
The ultrasound did not pick up anything large enough to be testing, which was good news. Small, actually nothing in size, is good. However, the doctor continued to recommend having an MRI core biopsy done.
So, today I went to have this procedure done. After consulting with the doctor who was performing this procedure, I came to the understanding that in my case, even atypical cells (even if non-cancerous) tend to grow, at some point, into cancer. Most likely, if that is the diagnosis, they will need to be removed.
The procedure itself was long due to the scanning before, during and after the procedure. It was uncomfortable (laying perfectly still for nearly an hour), painful with three long sticks of numbing medicine and bizarre (sensation of a bug-like object in your breast). The original intent was to take one biopsy at a location on the bottom left side. However, after the first set of scans, the doctor told me that she would like to go ahead and do two biopsies because of the spot on the top. I hear that news while laying flat on my stomach, boobs hanging free-fall through openings in the table and unable to move.
After the procedure was over, I asked why she decided to take the additional biopsy. She said, "because the location at the top was considerably more worrisome and I don't want to have to go in again." Yay for her proactivity. Pooh for that description.
After that appointment I had to go back to their main office to get a mammogram done.
I know - what? During the biopsies, they inserted two tiny clips in the exact areas where they took tissue. That way, if a surgeon has to go in to remove anything, he/she will know exactly where to go. And yes, they will remain in my body - forever. A little odd, but she didn't think anything about it. Unfortunately, that was really not a pleasant experience as I started bleeding from one biopsy site and had to have all my dressings redone.
I am sure that this is all a little shocking and the "it just can't be" response is probably there as well. I am good. Really good, in fact. This is going to sound a little crazy, but I think this is going to be pretty easy. It certainly has been caught early - way ahead of Ansley. I will, most likely be a stage 0 or stage 1. I can get this all behind me and hey...might get a chance of an upgrade! Goodbye sag-city!
So, say a little prayer for me and my family. This is a road we are all-too familiar with and it is uncomfortable at times. The children know nothing and I will keep it that way until absolutely necessary.
Time that I grab another ice pack out of the freezer and take some more ibuprofen. I will end with one of my favorite mantras: God is good all the time and all the time, HE IS GOOD!
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Comments from a reader
After I wrote my entry "Getting Freaky" I received an email from an long-time friend. She had much to comment on and rather than type it in the comments section, she emailed me. What is amazing about this friend is that she has the MOST amazing memory of any person I know - tiny details, events, emotions, etc., have been perfectly preserved in her mind. Ones that have long since left my brain. Scarily, sometimes they aren't even familiar and I was central to the story (how does that happen). Anyway, I asked her permission to post some of her comments as they 1) add to the content of the post (details that I have forgotten) and 2) add to the humor. Thanks, Jennifer, for the permission!
In reference to the LOVE CLUB entry:
First of all, the club thing...do you remember when I started the Muppets club and you and Ansley came over and upstairs in my house? You and I (I made the correction) had to be between 9 and 12 years old. I think Angela came too. We all picked characters to be (code names): I was Mrs. Piggy, you were Kermit, and I distinctly remember Ansley choosing Fozzie Bear. Vivid memory for me about Ansley. We drew pictures that day and that's when I realized what a good artist Ansley was. Also everyone had to bring 25 cents for dues. Is this bringing back any memory for you?
All this to say how cute the club thing is for Sadie. The promise and water bowl are in the movie. At least her club already has a purpose in mind...mine didn't. Looking back on it, that's sad.
Secondly, on the things that scared you (or scarred you depending on how many "r"s I include in the spelling!)...
You are not alone in the Ouija board thing...Jeff had an experience w/ one in college. He wasn't playing it but the spirit was directly attacking him by name on the board as roommates/suitemates played. All b/c he was a Christian. He argued scripture to it and it was saying, "Kill Jeff". His story gives me chill bumps. I'd love to hear yours!
That slumber party...was I there? Who hired the storyteller...anyone I know? Was it Jackie Templeton, storyteller? She told a story called "Tillie" that was pretty scary. I saw her twice, once at the HP Theatre and another time I can't recall and I'm wondering if the party was it. I know I've heard "Tillie" twice. Is that the ghost story you speak of? The Jamestown ghost is another one that gets me.
BTW - She is correct in the name of the story teller and the name of the story!
Has anyone else had time to think through what is scary or just freaked them out? I would add two more movies: "Children of Men" and "The Day After Tomorrow".
Additionally, I love when there are comments. One day, I plan on printing this blog for my children (no other ambitions). The comments will go along with them so would like for those that peruse this blog to make their mark.
In reference to the LOVE CLUB entry:
First of all, the club thing...do you remember when I started the Muppets club and you and Ansley came over and upstairs in my house? You and I (I made the correction) had to be between 9 and 12 years old. I think Angela came too. We all picked characters to be (code names): I was Mrs. Piggy, you were Kermit, and I distinctly remember Ansley choosing Fozzie Bear. Vivid memory for me about Ansley. We drew pictures that day and that's when I realized what a good artist Ansley was. Also everyone had to bring 25 cents for dues. Is this bringing back any memory for you?
All this to say how cute the club thing is for Sadie. The promise and water bowl are in the movie. At least her club already has a purpose in mind...mine didn't. Looking back on it, that's sad.
Secondly, on the things that scared you (or scarred you depending on how many "r"s I include in the spelling!)...
You are not alone in the Ouija board thing...Jeff had an experience w/ one in college. He wasn't playing it but the spirit was directly attacking him by name on the board as roommates/suitemates played. All b/c he was a Christian. He argued scripture to it and it was saying, "Kill Jeff". His story gives me chill bumps. I'd love to hear yours!
That slumber party...was I there? Who hired the storyteller...anyone I know? Was it Jackie Templeton, storyteller? She told a story called "Tillie" that was pretty scary. I saw her twice, once at the HP Theatre and another time I can't recall and I'm wondering if the party was it. I know I've heard "Tillie" twice. Is that the ghost story you speak of? The Jamestown ghost is another one that gets me.
BTW - She is correct in the name of the story teller and the name of the story!
Has anyone else had time to think through what is scary or just freaked them out? I would add two more movies: "Children of Men" and "The Day After Tomorrow".
Additionally, I love when there are comments. One day, I plan on printing this blog for my children (no other ambitions). The comments will go along with them so would like for those that peruse this blog to make their mark.
Monday, August 11, 2008
conversation with Sadie
Little comment from Sadie at the beach:
Sadie: Mom, you have skinny legs.
Me: Oh - thanks Sadie.
Sadie: I mean, skinny legs for a big mom.
Me: (smile)
So close...
Sadie: Mom, you have skinny legs.
Me: Oh - thanks Sadie.
Sadie: I mean, skinny legs for a big mom.
Me: (smile)
So close...
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