Fill ups...boobs and lamps...

Me: Hey God, I’m really sick of crying and being all down in the dumps and worrying about the stuff that I’m consumed with right now. Could you help me out?

God: Could you shush your brain and your mouth and listen?

Me: You’re asking a lot here God.

I got in the shower this morning. And for those of you who read my blog, you know that the shower is where most of my talking to God happens and it’s where most of my writing inspiration happens. And often times the two go together. This morning when I got in the shower, I heard this song, “Give me oil in my lamp, keep me burning. Give me oil in my lamp I pray. Give me oil in my lamp keep me burning, burning, burning, keep me burning til the break of day.”

That is a song that I used to sing as a kid in Bible School and have sung with our Bible School kids over the years. There are a couple more verses and I actually had to look them up because it was just the oil in my lamp that came to me this morning.

The other verses are “Give me joy in my heart, keep me praising” and “Give me peace in my heart, keep me loving.”

Well then. 

10-4 God. 

I’m not sure you could’ve come through any clearer. My oil is low in my lamp. I haven’t been trusting like I should. I’ve been worrying about my dad and about my health and about some other personal things in my life and I haven’t been trusting that You have a pretty good track record of working things out for me. My oil is low and somedays I can't see where I'm going. Not only can I not see where I'm going, I'm having a hard time emitting any light for anybody else to see.  I haven’t been doing the things that I was doing a few months ago that strengthened me. Tomorrow I go for a boob fill up, but in the morning, I’m going to sit down and get myself an oil fill. 

And I have a sneaking suspicion that once I get an oil fill up, that joy and peace in my heart will follow right behind and those tears and anxieties and fears will diminish. 

-lightningbug

Fragile: Contents Under Pressure

You know that feeling when you've had a long, hard day and you come in and the first thing you want to do is take off that gosh-forsaken bra? Well that's what it feels like after a mastectomy but you can't take it off. Because it's not a bra, it's your skin. I've had that feeling since Aug. 10. And it sucks. And it makes me very grumpy. Yesterday I was cleaning the dog's water bowl and Colby knocked his head up and it busted my lip and I cried. I mean I came inside and I bawled. And not because it really hurt that much. I mean, I'm not a total wuss but just because some days that's all it takes for me to lose my shit. I can't feel the backs of my arms from the shoulder to the elbow. I feel like I have a sunburn all the time and I get hot and cold like I have a sunburn. My balance is all out of whack (totally fell down walking into the football game Friday night,) neuropathy is still messing with my feet.

I went for my first boob fill last week and my breasts are starting to fill out into a somewhat lopsided round shape. They are swollen in all the wrong places and they're just weird and ugly. They have scars all the way across each of them. Ugly scars. Like a boob through a meat grinder. People have been congratulating me on being cancer free and I smile and I AM happy. I am completely happy. Nothing is any more important that knowing that cancer has been served its eviction notice and it's crap is laying out on the front lawn for the garbage man. But this is hard. This is very freaking hard. And the kids are all back to school so it is so quiet and lonely. I have a lot going on in my head right now and the wheels seem to turn and turn and never stay still.

The pieces of me look to be all coming back together from the outside--my hair is growing back, my eyelashes and my eybrows are back--I even have to shave my legs these days--but I feel completely opposite inside. I feel like my pieces are falling apart on the inside. I know this is all a part of the process and I'm human and I'm allowed to have emotions and blah blah. Yeah, yeah. I know that. But I'm the kind of human who likes the good emotions. I like smiles and laughter. I don't like sad and lonely. I looked at Kevin the other day and said, "All these years I have thought I was a free spirit but I like a plan I think I may even be OCD. I am a total fraud." And I do like a plan. And I don't have a plan right now. I have tried to go back to my regular work schedule (which is a very modest part time) and that wears me down and I can't focus like I used to be able to do. 

When I put my deodorant on, I can't even feel where it's going. I feel nothing under my arm. I feel like I'm not "enough" right now. I so want to be complete and back to me. I wasn't any superwoman to begin with but I was me. I worked a little and I came home and did my home thing and I carted kids all over creation and I entertained and I had a pretty great life. And now life is not normal. And I feel guilty for EVERYTHING. I feel guilty that I can't be and do everything that I used to do. I know it will come back but I'm impatient. I'm telling myself that I'm not going down to visit my dad this evening because I am physically and emotionally drained, but I will. The guilt will get to me and I will go. My dad even said to me last night, "Honey, you don't have to come down here every day." But I do. He has always been there for me and I will always be there for him. That's how family works. And that's what I will do.

I know my boobs will look and feel better over time. I'm just impatient right now. I know my energy level will increase over time. I know life will go back to normal before too long. For right now though, I am sad. And Ecclesiastes 3 tells me that it's ok for me to be sad right now.

There’s a season for everything    and a time for every matter under the heavens:2     a time for giving birth and a time for dying, a time for planting and a time for uprooting what was planted,3     a time for killing and a time for healing, a time for tearing down and a time for building up,4     a time for crying and a time for laughing, a time for mourning and a time for dancing,5     a time for throwing stones and a time for gathering stones, a time for embracing and a time for avoiding embraces,6     a time for searching and a time for losing, a time for keeping and a time for throwing away,7    a time for tearing and a time for repairing, a time for keeping silent and a time for speaking,8     a time for loving and a time for hating, a time for war and a time for peace.

A time for laughing and being silly and a time for sitting at the bottom of the stairs with a pillow pulled to your chest crying until breathing becomes laborous and then going upstairs and making a cup of coffee and getting your shit together because normal people don't sit at the bottom of the stairs and cry into pillows.

Have you ever bought something and took it out of the package and then it NEVER would go back in the package? When I was visiting my aunt in Florida, we took the rollaway bed out of the package and it was SO TIGHT getting that thing out that we knew it would never go back in the package. Well that's kind of how I feel right now. My old life was my package and the cancer made me come out of my packaging and I don't think I will ever fit back into my old packaging. I'm just going to have to figure out life outside of my packaging. And that's really scary to me. It's a very vulnerable and terrifying place. And here lately it feels a lot like taking a ride on the coo-coo caboose.

-lightningbug

Jesus & a Bedazzled Hat

It’s been a long time since I dug down to the area where my recent fountain of tears have originated. It was probably back before my biopsy results and the days following that.  You have your regular tears and then you have those that are from the deep down depths of your soul—the ones that don’t get out too often because they just hurt so much so we keep them buried and then one day, sometimes just out of the blue, they will begin. And in my case, they have lasted for a week. I just completely bawl, sometimes for good reason and sometimes for no reason at all.

Currently, I hate my life. It is the worst life ever and I don’t even know why I went through chemo and all that because I should’ve just rolled over and croaked. I do not like my children very much right now, my husband is a jerk, my dad isn’t fighting after his surgery like he should, my dogs are dumb, my basement needs Jesus and FEMA and I and I can’t drive anywhere to even get away from any of this madness. I’m just stuck here. With my stupid thoughts and a dirty house.

Today I was thinking about that woman at the softball tournament—you know—the strong one with the blingy cap and the mini skirt who was able to bring grown men to tears and that woman who (very badly) threw out that first pitch at the Lumberjacks game and that women who has stood tall and proud and strong for six months. Where the hell did she go?  She went through all that chemo and lost her hair and boo coos of changes and she did pretty darn good. All that for THIS???

And now here I am. In the homestretch and I’m losing my ever loving mind.  I’ve had my surgery and I have fallen to pieces. And it has nothing to do with losing my breasts. I’m sore. I’m really sore. I’m numb. I’m weak and tired. And I’m not used to being all those things—well except tired. I’m always tired.

I’ve been wanting to write to tell you all about how when I came out of surgery that the first thing I heard was “Country Roads” and not just in the hospital speakers—this was coming from a guitar and somebody’s voice. You’ve just had surgery and you are trying to make sense of your surroundings and you hear that and then you think maybe it’s not right. I went with it though and I began to tell the nurse that I had a tattoo on my ankle of the state of West Virginia and over a little place in Fayette Co., called Mossy, I had the tattoo artist put a little gold heart. That’s where so much of my heart resided. Before my grandparents died I had them write the words, “Take Me Home, Country Roads” and I used their handwriting to form the words around my tattoo. Well the next thing I knew, the guitarist was over there by my bed meeting me and telling me that he sure was glad he picked that song for today. And I was thinking oh my gosh Momaw, you have outdone yourself on this one. Another one of those “coincidences.”

Well I came home and life was good for a day or two and then the crying started. I cried and I cried. Kevin’s mom came in and hugged me and tried to console me and I wanted to tell her that her son was just a jackass and I wish she would take him back home with her (none of that was true but that was my perception at the time.)

I cried on Sunday so bad that my dad had to leave church to come check on me. I can’t even remember what terrible thing had happened to me that day but I know a blizzard from DQ really helped things.

My dad had to have heart surgery last week and people keep asking me how he is doing and the truth is, I don’t know how he’s doing! The doctors say he’s doing good but he isn’t eating and he can’t get up from his chair unassisted and I don’t see much drive in him and I want to see him wanting to get back on his feet! There are different kinds of loves in this world and we experience a lot of different kinds and degrees. There are three people in my life who have loved me beyond comprehension and I have lost two of those. The thought of losing the third one brings me to my knees.

So basically I just have a lot on my plate right now and I don’t actually hate my life or anybody in it. I threatened Riley’s life for taking a phone charger, I told Kevin I was going to throw a match to the basement, and I have just been mean and ugly and lashing out at the people I love because I’m tired and I’m scared and I’m everything that the girl in the blingy hat on July 23 was not. Or maybe she was and maybe I just need to pull out that blingy hat again!!!

When I can’t find the answers to life when I look around in the world, I can always find them in scripture.

But you, LORD! Don't be far away! You are my strength! Come quick and help me! (Psalm 22:19)

So I am going to have a hot noon shower and talk to Jesus and then I’m going to get that blingy hat on and start conquering the world again.

 -lightningbug

Twas the night before mastectomy...

Twas the Night before mastectomy and all through the casa,

I was running around and feeling quite awesome.

The bras were hung in the closet with care,

Since that’s one less layer I will have to wear.

The kids were riding the hoverboard down the street,

As I hollered from the porch, “Please stay on your feet!”

Kevin in his athletic shorts and I in my wig,

Were sitting outside smoking a pig.

When out on the street there arose such a clatter,

I jumped up from the glider to see what was the matter.

Away to the fence I flew like a flash, 

Tore open the gate and saw the big crash

The moon on the breast…wait. Did somebody say breast?!

Well played.

Tomorrow is the big day! Tomorrow is bilateral mastectomy day.

Maybe I’m still kind of in shock about the whole thing—I’m not sure. I don’t have any fear or apprehension about it. The other morning I came out on the back porch and I sobbed. I let it all out. I’m not sure if that was cancer related or if it was life related. I guess cancer lets your eyes focus on the things that matter most in life. I was on the back porch and I remembered all the wonderful things that have happened in this backyard over the years.

My mammogram and ultrasound revealed that my tumor was gone. That was the best news (although truthfully I knew it all along!) My cancer is a grade 3 which is the most aggressive type of cancer. Translation: I can’t fart around with it because it will come back. Tomorrow they will remove both breasts and they will also biopsy my sentinel nodes to make sure things haven’t spread. I hope I’ve educated you all over the last few months about triple negative breast cancer. Tomorrow isn’t the day that’s scary for me. The days that are scary for me are the next five years. I am doing the things that I can to prevent the cancer from returning, but unlike the other types of breast cancer, there’s nothing I can do to deter the cancer from returning. I just have to live my life and trust that it won’t come back.

I can never say it enough…I appreciate all the support that you all have given me throughout this crazy ride more than you all will ever know.

Bye bye boobies, hello life.

-lightningbug