In War, There Are No Unwounded Soldiers

Every year before Veterans Day, I always love to put the following message on the church sign:  “In war, there are no unwounded soldiers.” (Jose Narosky) I believe that wholeheartedly.  Even if you go to battle and come home in one piece, without so much as a scratch or bruise on you, you are no longer the same person.

Today was a lazy day for me. I probably should’ve gotten dressed and gone to work, but I was lazy. I stayed in my pajamas most of the day and just rested. I threw a chicken pot pie in the oven and actually had dinner ready when Kevin and Papi got home! I thought Kevin would fall out because I don’t think I have cooked dinner one single time since my diagnosis. I just kind of shut down. Kevin stepped in and started doing EVERYTHING—the laundry, the dishes, the cooking, the cleaning—all of it. I think it’s for two reasons. Number one, he wants me to relax and focus on getting well and number two, if he stays completely busy, he doesn’t have time for any negative thoughts to show up. He’s too tired when he finally sits down to think.

Natalie had a softball game this evening. I hopped in the car and stopped by Whitey’s. I wanted a cup of coffee and the boys wanted some snacks. The lady working at Whitey’s told me she was praying for me. I got back in the car and I thought to myself, “Today I am getting coffee from Whitey’s and tomorrow I am going to be sitting in a chair getting chemotherapy for cancer.” 

Life will never be the same. Even if I walked in tomorrow and they said “You’re cured!” life would never be the same again.

“In war, there are no unwounded soldiers.”

We loaded up and headed to the ballpark. I wrapped up like an Eskimo because it was cold out there this evening! Several friends stopped me and hugged me and told me they were thinking of me and praying for me and that I was going to kick this cancer’s butt. One friend said, “I know you’re sick of hearing this…” No. 

Yes I hear this at every turn, but I am not sick of hearing that you are thinking about me or you are praying for me. I am strengthened by that. I feel like we are all on the same team and standing together!

As the girls stepped up to the plate to bat this evening, one after the other had a pink ribbon on the back of their batting helmet. It puts a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye when you see people supporting you, but especially when you see young people in support of you. And it’s not just me they are supporting. I’m the one with breast cancer, but my kids received the diagnosis also. They have been so strong, but I’m sure they are scared also. Those pink ribbons on that softball team not only support me, but they support my daughter.

Last week, the students at Papi's school and his former elementary school held a hat day for me. They paid $1 to wear a hat and raised money to help with my expenses. I went up to the school that day and it was so amazing. Everywhere I looked, I saw hats. Lump in throat and tears again. They weren’t just supporting me, but they were supporting my 10 year old son. They were standing with me and with him and saying “We are on your team! You aren’t alone! We are fighting with you!”

Tomorrow I go to war. Life as I have known it for the last 29…ok fine…38 years will never be the same. Those three little words robbed me of the security I once felt. Before this diagnosis, I never once thought of my kids growing up without a mother. I never once thought about having a port inside of my body that would be a vessel for chemicals to be pumped through my body in an effort to save my life. Hell, I didn’t even know what a port was before this! I never thought about missing a baseball season because I couldn’t be out in public and around germs. For the last three years, I haven’t let my hairdresser cut more than an inch of my hair off. In the next couple of weeks, I will lose it by the handful until I have none left. After I have 16 weeks of chemicals pumped through my body with side effects that I don’t even want to think about, then I will undergo surgery and have my breasts removed. These are things I never thought about before this war.

“In war, there are no unwounded soldiers.”

Tomorrow I go to battle. I don’t go with an assault rifle and a grenade launcher though, but rather, I go with the complete confidence that God is there waiting on me and he will see me through. I go empowered by the support, love and prayers of my family, my friends, and my community. 

I will fight like a girl. 

I will fight like a woman. 

But most importantly, I will fight with the fury of a mama bear. 

I don’t know any battle cries so I will just have to commemorate one of my all time favorite movies and exclaim “Ya-Ya!”

-lightningbug