Breast Cancer Journey This Far...

In early October, I was able to speak to a group of mom's about my breast cancer journey, this far, and what God has walked me through:

those top pigtails

 At the beginning of my breast cancer diagnosis, I journaled often.  I remember thinking that I wanted to remember and document as much as I could. There was comfort and emotional sorting as I would write out what was going on. Several months in, I realized that a dread would start.  Just as soon as the pen hit the paper a knot would form in my gut and my emotions would feel like they were swirling out of control- it was no longer comforting but, instead, a reminder of the heartache and hardship my family and myself were trying to survive. 

I've been telling myself to blog, at least a bit, but have not been sure if it is the best thing emotionally.  I still don't know but thought I would sit down this afternoon and at least try. I can't go deep into the emotions but can swim on the surface for a short time.

I've been walking this new road for 14 months.  Most of it has been just trying to survive (literally) and the remaining has been trying to sort through how to move forward.  I don't have any big insight or life changing advise but I do have a few things that I've personally refined.

Priorities have been refined.  There is not a lot of emotional space (thank you chemo, exhaustion, meds, and overall trauma) so the space I have is weighed carefully and dispersed accordingly.  God, Matt, my kids/grandbabies, my extended family and close friends...a lot of times, I don't have enough to get past the first 3, which is humbling and hard, but my prayer is that in time, I will have more to give.  I used to give and give and give (and give) but just can't do that anymore.

Purposeful- Like I said above, I used to give and give and give, a lot of times not thinking through whether it was the best use of my time or energy. I would tell myself that this is what we do, give.  Now, I have to think through my time and decide whether what I'm doing is purposeful (sometimes purposeful means laying on my bed and watching a movie or shopping at Goodwill- this is being purposeful about rest and my mental health).  I have found, as I'm intentional about my purpose, I enjoy doing whatever I am doing, much more.

Protective- I feel a lot more protective over giving others dignity, including myself.  This has always been important to me, on the fringe, but the personal struggles though this diagnosis has brought this protectiveness more front and center.  I will have health struggles for the rest of my life (even when they are not apparent to anyone other then me).  My physical body will never be the same nor will the way I view the world psychologically.  This is deeply humbling and has kicked me off of any high horse I may have ever hoped to ride.  I will always relate to the weaker person (both physically and mentally) and pray I can articulate dignity to others well in this. I also pray I can emotionally protect, both with my words and actions, those who are weaker.

Promises- I repeat over and over to myself, ever single day, God's promises and then pray through them.  Life's hardships are a lot and I could not imagine walking this road without the Lord's constant presence and His promises.

I've also chosen to laugh more (even when I don't feel like it), not put off the things I've always wanted to do, eat much healthier (I don't even miss sugar anymore), and start smoking (no judging).

That's all I've got for today but hopefully I'll be back soon!

p.s. I didn't really start smoking- that's just not my jam....chemo jacks up your sense of smell and the aroma of smoke is pungent (if you smoke, I'm not judging you, so no messages of offense.  What I will say though is, you reek......smile). 

This picture is from last night- Matt and I were on our way out to dinner. It was really hot and I had been in a wig all day.  At the last minute, I took the wig off and had wild chemo curl hair and didn't have time to style it.  The front is long enough that I could put it back in top pig tails.....a 47 year old woman in top pigtails.......it's the humble train guys, THE HUMBLE TRAIN...but thank you Jesus for hair!

We met my 2 sister in laws (Heidy and Lori) and 2 brother in laws (John and Wayne) for dinner last night.

Vantage Point

I remember watching a movie several years ago that depicted the same story over and over only each time it was recounted, it was from a different person’s vantage point. Where they were when the event went on determined what they saw, what they experienced, their reactions, and ultimately, how the event impacted them. That's what todays blog post feels like- the same story about God's love and faithfulness, recounted through the vantage point of a different view then what I have ever had. I've experienced and seen God's tender love and faithfulness through a difficult childhood, through miscarriage, marriage struggles, anxiety attacks, friend and family struggles, adoption, one of my children's health struggles, the heaven going of my 14-year-old nephew...and more. This is the first time though, that I have experienced it through the vantage point of facing my own mortality. 

 

Most of you know that I was diagnosed with breast cancer in May of 2022. It was supposed to be an easy lumpectomy with a few lymph nodes in my left armpit area removed- I was prepared to probably need some chemotherapy and radiation but, the overall outcome was very favorable. No big alarm bells were ringing for the oncologists or doctors involved. 1 in 8 women will experience some sort of breast cancer in their lifetime and I was one of them- it's a well-studied cancer and the treatment is streamlined down to a science.

 

 Most of you also know that by the time all my pathology was complete, I needed a bilateral mastectomy, a complete lymph node dissection on my left side (25 lymph nodes removed) and was diagnosed with stage 3C aggressive breast cancer (T3 N3a M0). The alarm bells rang loud that July day, last year, and in some not-too-distant way, they will ring for the rest of my life. Due to the amount of cancer found, I was sent for all the scans (MRI, CT, bone, PET)- it was suspected that the cancer had already spread outside of my lymph nodes (in the left armpit area) but if it didn't (it was determined it had not), I was let know that all stops would be pulled and treatment to beat the cancer back would be hard and relentless. I was put into instant menopause (Lupron), had a bilateral mastectomy (chose no reconstruction), dose dense harsh chemo started 13 days after surgery (AC-T), followed by 6 weeks of 4 different fields on my left upper body/back radiated, and finally, a lifetime of difficult medication and monitoring. 

 

Even with all of this, I was let know that my recurrence rate (the chance that the cancer will at some point return) will always be a possibility. I will never be able to move on completely from my diagnosis. In one test result, my vantage point changed completely. I was faced with looking at the same God I have known since I was 8 years old, from a different perspective. Who is He and what does He look from such a life altering (and incredibly hard) view.

 

 I am only 9 months into this journey, what I have to offer from my vantage point is not much, but what I can offer is hope. I don't like talking about the degree of how extensive my cancer is/was because it's triggering- my mind has a hard time coming back to a non-trauma place after I talk (or write) about it. I only bring up its extent, so you have a better understanding of where I'm at when I share with you what I am learning. 

 

I have 'grief' days- days where the trauma of what has gone on and the reality of looking forward is a lot, on these days, my psyche forces me to live in that reality. On a grief day (I never know when they will be), I feel a grief and heaviness that is more than what my human mind can comprehend. At times, I can feel my thoughts starting a vacuum, remembering traumas from before and what-ifs for the future, in a downward spiral. It is so overwhelming when this happens. 

 

I was standing in my laundry room one day, several months ago, and was completely overwhelmed with grief. I felt so emotionally heavy I wasn't sure what to do next. When my thoughts tried to think about anything other than grief, my mind just felt blank (and I would return to thinking about the grief I was feeling). At this point, the only thing I could think to do was to cry out to God. As I was crying out to God, I started speaking out everything I knew to be true about Him, praising Him for who He is.... 

 

You are Almighty (Rev. 4:8) 

You are love (John 3:16) 

You are truth (John 14:6) 

You are our strength (Psalm 28:7) 

You will carry our burdens (Psalm 55:22) 

You are sovereign (Rom. 8:28) 

You know and have ordained every day for us (Psalm 139) 

You are rest (Matt. 11:28) 

The list could go on 

 

I noticed that as I was speaking these truths out, I picked my eyes up from the ground and looked heavenward- I was looking at the ceiling in my laundry room, crying out in desperation, God's truths. The more I redirected my thoughts to who God is, the more peace and strength I felt. It didn't change my reality (that will never change) but it did give me hope and redirection for my fearful and overwhelmed thoughts. It also gave me renewed hope that whatever our circumstances, God is enough, and He will see us through, no matter what. 

 

Since that day in my laundry room, I have had to do this same thing over and over (and will have to always).  Each time, I am always filled with a Peace that passes all understanding. Life is still so very hard...but God.

 

Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10