Quietly Holding Out for Courage

I have not been as active with my blog lately as I thought I might be, or as active as I was in the beginning.  Partly because I don't have much news.  There is a lot of waiting for time to pass so that the drugs can work in my system.  They are slow moving, so there isn't the exciting "quick wins" of chemo or surgery.  I have some important tests looming in the next few weeks, and if I stop to think about them too long I will grow scared and obsessive.  


The other day I actually wished I could go back in time, something I have never wanted.  Going back to a time you enjoyed more means reliving the time you didn't like, but the other day going back seemed better because going forward I will never be free of cancer, even if I becomes dormant I will always have it.  Going forward I will probably have to continue facing the things I face now.  


So I wished to go back one year.  One year ago there was no cancer to worry about.  One year ago it was just the kiddos and me making our life the way we wanted it.  We liked where we were living, what we were doing, and I wasn't working late hours at work.  


Some people know what we have been up against in the last few months, but most don't.  


I have appreciated making some cyber friends who relate to one aspect of my life- the cancer- with personal experience. I have also been grateful for friends who don't know, especially those who think I am so amazing for going forward as I must.  It is encouraging, but I don't know what else I would do- there is no place else to go- just forward.


So I am moving forward.  Forward to whatever changes lie at work and the organization shift that is happening.  Forward as Mommy, trying to provide alone all the things kiddies need.  Forward as a cancer patient, knowing I will never be cured, and hoping I will have long, long breaks between treatment cycles. 


I move forward and hope for better.  I hope for a job with opportunities and fulfillment, for better insurance coverage, for braces on kiddies teeth, for good soccer practices and new friends for the kiddies, hope for health and a life free of a cancer diagnosis for my babies.  Oh, if I could be the statistic so they could be free.  


But, for today, I can lay down in bed and say, "I will try again tomorrow".

Like a Roller Coaster - But Less Fun

I find it weird that we draw a similarity between difficult times, an emotional roller coaster, and the real thing- like at an amusement park.

I haven't been on a roller coaster for a while, but I recall them being fun.  You know, anticipation and excitement.

Here is how I recall it going: You are in line and think about chickening out, but cannot come up with an excuse your friends will believe. So you psych yourself up.  "It won't even last too long",  "We will have fun", "I am going to concentrate on smiling when we go past that camera so I don't look too freaked out in the picture".

Finally, you get on the ride and the clank of the safety bar rings with a hallow ting as it locks into place.  And you think, "if it is hallow is probably isn't very strong.  Everyone is going to hear about me crashing from the top on the 10 o'clock news. They will think, 'I am so glad it wasn't me'."

Now you don't care what your friends think, you just want to run!  But, it is to late.  Slowly the ride lurches into motion.  Even slower still it makes the first climb.  "Why didn't they put a stronger motor on this thing so it would be over already?"  Almost at the top and you decide, "I am not going to fall" and your knuckles are poking out of the white skin wrapped over them.

The first fall seems to be moving at the speed of a frame-by-frame instant replay.  The ride starts to speed up and you are tossed from side-to-side around turns and in loopy-loops.  Flash! I forgot to smile.

Your body starts to get used to the sharp motions of the turns.  You are starting to laugh in between screams.  Just as you catch your breath, the ride is over.  You want to stay for one more round, but they make you leave your seat as the next glazed-eye passenger embarks.

Well, there are twists and turns in your emotions when you have cancer.  You lurch from side to side and try to maintain some level of composure through it all, but flash! another surprise catches you with your mouth wide open and panic in your eyes.  


The difference is you don't start to enjoy the ride and you don't want to stay on for another spin.  You get off, sad to leave behind the friends you have spent every week with since it all began, and charge the crowd trying to outrun the clutches of "Mets".

I thought after I got over the first week of knowing my cancer was back it would start to feel like I was back on the ride I jumped off less than 5 years ago.  I thought I would get the swing of things and feel ready to keep racing up and down the track with the goal of getting off the ride for good to drive me forward.  Wrong.

Today was a drop down, a loopy-loop, flash! bang! roller coaster kind-a day. 

But, this isn't a roller coaster.  Roller coasters are fun. This is scary.  And, when you have to take responsibility for decision about which track to follow it leaves you second-guessing yourself.  Did I make the wrong turn?  Does the track ahead of me end?  Will it meet back up with the end of the ride or will I end up just looping around until...

Last night I kept thinking of these promises: "I am THE WAY, THE TRUTH, and THE LIGHT" and "My PEACE I give unto you".

And tonight driving from work to daycare I saw several cars with that "Life Is Good" saying on bumper stickers or tire covers.  I wanted to roll my window down and shout, "No it's not, you idiot".  I didn't do it; I do have some composure still.  

Then I thought- maybe I should stop fighting it and consider that Heavenly Father might want to tell me "Your life is good.  I am in charge. I will take care."  After all, Jesus Christ- my brother- is on my side too.  He is offering THE WAY marked by HIS LIGHT.

So I decided, white-knuckle-gripped, I am going to stay on this ride! And when it is over I am going to rush the crowd and get back to the life I was pretty happy with before I was forced on this non-fun emotional roller coaster.

I am not going to be on the news tonight or any night.  

I AM THANKFUL FOR:

Cards from Mom's Cousin

Mama Jean "Medicine" (grams, sugar, almonds- ya know?)

Sisters to whine to on the phone

Mom and Dad

My Babys

Thanksgiving

Co-Workers who redecorate for Thanksgiving immediately after Halloween

AWESOME Daisy troopers who want to help

Veggies

Diet Coke

Google

... shall I go on? 
Life is Good!...          

Need a Little Hope?

There are so many people who want to know how I am doing and who want to follow my story.  I have shared this blog address with people at church, at my kids school,  at work,  in places I have lived around the world, and I have even shared it with a sister I love. (Well, technically she's my x-husband's sister-in-law, but even divorce doesn't end some friendships)  
So, nights like tonight when I would really like to rant about problems with the X, or about things in life that aren't fair, or I want to rant about everything getting under my skin - I have to refrain.
But, now you all know - I get mad.  I am angry.  There is injustice in my life, because of life and because of life with cancer, of which I am perfectly aware.  Sometimes there is so much junk dumped on us we can hardly see our way past it all.
But, rather than dwell on all of this terrible junk that is cluttering my beautiful life, I want to give a shout-out to a musician I heard for the first time tonight. And, say thanks for helping me refocus my mind.
I like to listen to the Christian music station here in the big D.  And, tonight they played a catchy song by Matt Hammitt, "All of Me".  This song about pure love between a father and his son, and reminds me of the kind of devotion I would like to share with a a good man some day.
But, more than just a song of love, this beautiful song is born out of a Matt's experience learning to love when there is a threat of loosing what you love.  As I learn more of his story I admire Matt and his family for finding faith in God as they confront heart-breaking moments.
I have downloaded the whole album from iTunes now and thought you might like it, too. I love the message of hope he shares.  And, don't we all need a little hope?  Thanks for sharing hope Matt.

The Sunrise of My Fight, Getting My Head and Heart in the Game!

There really is only one thing I care about, it is raising my daughters.  They are everything to me.
I call them my "Wild Angels" because they are my force and strength.  Last time I fought cancer it was for them, and this time it is also!
I feel a great sense of relief.  Tonight I had a blessing, and I believe that I will succeed in this fight.
Don't be fooled- there are going to be a couple pretty stinky months ahead for sure.  No doubt that I am going to have to draw on power outside of my self to keep up with everything I have to do.
I am nervous about being the bread-winner, the insurance carrier, the family organizer, and the cancer patient.
How will I do it?
With lots of help.  I will have to keep making the living and holding down the insurance, but because I have to, I can.  It might be a pot-hole filled road so we will just have to bounce along.  I just ask that you don't stare when I bottom-out sometimes, it wouldn't be polite. :)
We have so many wonderful people who love and support us.
Number one are my parents.  Always giving to us in love, support, help, and vacations!
The people who serve us at church, and those who have become our friends.  So many thanks to you for already putting together prayers and fasts.  I am filled with awe and gratitude for your compassion and your banding together to help an average gal like me.
I am also so pleased to say that I work with a team that really cares.  I know they will have my back and I am proud to know them.
To dear friends and family who are so many miles away, we love and miss you so much.
You have been our rock through so much.  And, you will always be a rock to us. Please send your faithf-filled prayers to our Heavenly Father.  Along with me, beg that I can raise these wonderful, amazing, powerful, creative, angelic babies and rock their babies in my arms.
All my love,
Breast Cancer Warrior
P.S. - Yeah Rangers! World Series again!