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

Batt'n 4 Boobies Words...

On Saturday, July 23, the best friends a girl could have came out to play softball and support my cancer battle. I couldn't let them do all that for me without telling them what they all meant to me, so I said these words to them before the tournament got started:

February 19 is when I got the call. It was a Friday morning about 10 am. I was standing at my kitchen counter when the call came. The doctor said, “Unfortunately…” He really didn’t need to say anything after that.

I don’t think anybody expects to have a cancer battle on their hands at 38 years old.

I went to see a genetics counselor soon after that and I found out that my specific type of breast cancer is something called triple negative breast cancer. The short version of that is that the drugs that are often used to treat breast cancer won’t work on me. Triple negative makes up 10-20% of breast cancers and has a lower 5 year survival rate compared to other breast cancers. That appointment with the genetics counselor was probably the hardest appointment for me. There was so much information and it was TOUGH information—information that I didn’t want to hear. I was so overwhelmed and discouraged and truly terrified.

I told my family and close friends that weekend and I knew my name was about to go on prayer lists around the community on Sunday morning and while I welcomed that completely, I wanted the news to come from me.

That Saturday, I wrote my first breast cancer blog that I called “In a World of Eeyores, be a Tigger.”

I ended that blog with the phrase “We got this” which came to be my mantra throughout this journey. WE got this—not me, but WE. My family, my friends, my community, complete strangers, a little of me, and above all, God.

I have been called a hero and strong and brave and all that and that’s totally sweet but I don’t believe I am any of those things. I am just a girl who loves her life and wants to do whatever it takes to stay here for as long as I possibly can. You may not know it right now, but you would do the same thing.

Since the beginning, I have said “This is part of my journey.” It has taken my strength, my money, my peace of mind, my tears, my hair, my taste buds—and on August 10, it will take my breasts.

And all that stuff really stinks and I could choose to be angry or sad about those things, and occasionally I AM sad about those things.

But what I wanted to tell you about today is not what cancer has taken from me, but what it has given to me. Sounds crazy, huh?

The Saturday that I wrote that first blog, I got a Facebook message from a friend. I was up at Edgemont school walking that day. I felt great. I didn’t feel like I had cancer. It was a crisp February day, a sunny day after a week of heavy snow. My friend wrote to tell me that her sister was a breast cancer survivor and if I ever wanted to talk to her, that she was sure she would be willing to talk to me. I gave her sister a friend request that day and she has been there for me just like a big sister from that day on. So many breast cancer survivors have reached out to me throughout the last five months. 

I have received hundreds of cards and just as many emails since my diagnosis and they have been a tremendous source of encouragement for me. I always laughed when people would say “I know you’re probably sick of hearing this…” No. I never have gotten sick of hearing that you are supporting me and praying for me and cheering me on.

I have been given so many gifts! Holy cow! You guys have been so generous to me and I appreciate it more than I can ever tell you! Money, meals, services, all sorts of care packages, along with so much love. You all are incredible.

My best friend and soul mate Deana has been with me the entire way. She has cheered me on and she has dried my tears. She has been with me to every appointment, she has prayed with me and she has cussed with me.  She has never left my side.

My husband and my kids and my parents and my in-laws and my neighbors and so many of you have gone above and beyond and I am so grateful to you all.

I hate wearing shirts that show my port. You would think a mother would be a source of confidence and empowerment for her daughter, but the opposite has been true. Natalie has been there time after time to tell me that I am beautiful even with no hair and an ugly port sticking out of my chest.  My boys have been so protective of me and have chipped in to help with whatever I needed.

Kevin has had to be mom and dad at times. He has taken over most of the chores at home on top of everything else. I jokingly call him Hazel the housewife.

You all get to read about twinkling, happy lightning bug and He has had the misfortune of catching grumpy, weak, barely twinkling lightning bug on so many occasions. I am grateful for his love and patience.

You would never believe this, but sitting in a room full of people getting chemo was a blessing. You will be hard pressed to find better people than the ones you encounter in the chemo room. It is truly a humbling experience. My oncology nurses were absolutely incredible. I believe wholeheartedly that people have been strategically placed in my path throughout the last five months—I think that’s one of the coolest things God has done for me. The people I have encountered haven’t been by chance. They were meant to cross my path.

You know…You don’t have to have cancer to slow down just a little and breathe in what is all around you. That Saturday that I told you I was walking up at the school—I took pictures that day of the water and the birds and the sky. It all looked so very different to me. I had different eyes that day. I have become a lot more in tune with the simple things since the big C came along.

That Friday morning in February, I was so nervous as I awaited my biopsy results and that was the day that my daughter said “Hey mom, come look at these birds!” I walked to the front door and the cardinals were perched in my maple tree. Two cardinals—a male and a female. When I looked out there I smiled and this peace that I can’t even describe came over me. Natalie went to school and I pulled out my laptop and googled, “what does it mean when a cardinal visits.” This is exactly what I found when I looked it up, “A cardinal is a representative of a loved one who has passed. When you see one, it means they are visiting you. They usually show up when you most need them or miss them. They also make an appearance during times of celebration as well as despair to let you know they will always be with you. Look for them, they’ll appear.”

I lost my grandparents in 2013 & 2014. I was super close to them and I know in my heart who sent those red birds.

I urge you today to look for the cardinals…not just the cardinals but to look at the beauty of nature and your children and the dew on the grass and everything around you with grateful eyes. I promise you that will make a difference in your life.

This week I started thinking about how to convey to you all what you have meant to me throughout this journey. I hopped in the shower one day and I heard the childhood chant from the game Red Rover going through my head. Remember that game? You would stand side by side with one another and link hands and call for someone to come over? Red rover, red rover, send Johnny on over. And Johnny would come barreling through trying to break the links and penetrate the line. Sometimes he would make it and sometimes he wouldn’t. It all depended on how tight those links were. Cancer made it through those links and invaded my body. Then all of you all—my friends and my family and some people who don’t even know me—came together and tightened those links and at every turn when cancer tried to get through and destroy my mind or my spirit, your love has been the strength that has kept that cancer out. I could not have done this without all of you. You inspire me every day.

I have completed eight rounds of dense dose chemotherapy and on August 10 I will have my surgery. If my cancer is gone (which I believe 100% that it is,) my prognosis is in the upper 90% range.

Thank you to everyone who has been a part of this event and blessings to each of you who have come out to support me!

We got this!

-lightningbug

Nothing Will Ever Really Be the Same...

Today was Chemo Day number five. My chemo regimen consists of four rounds of drugs Adriamycin and Cytoxan and four rounds of a drug called Taxol (total of eight treatments every other week for a total of 16 weeks.) I will finish up at the end of June. I began Dose Dense Taxol today and my biggest fear was an allergic reaction. I was made aware of increased allergic reactions to Taxol. I have prayed and prayed that I wouldn’t have an allergic reaction to this medication. Today I met with my doctor and he seemed pleased with where I was and how I was responding to treatment. He told me that he thought this drug would be much easier on me and also I will no longer have to come in the next day for the Neulasta shot (I sometimes think the Neulasta shot was harder on me than the actual chemo!)

As I sit here and think about what I am feeling and what I want to share, the tears just roll down my cheeks.  I have learned so much over the last few months—about myself, about the human spirit, about generosity and selflessness, about faith, about family and friends, about my community, about cancer and those who are going through it and those who have survived it.  

As with every chemo and every appointment, my best friend has been by my side. Because today’s treatment lasted so long, she had to leave to get her kids from school and I was by myself for a couple of hours. Not long after she left, I missed her! I thought about how lucky I am to have her by my side every step of the way—to listen to my irrational thoughts, to cry with me that one time in the car (yes, we only cried together one time over this), to laugh with me, to ask questions, to insist that the doctors run every test imaginable so I will not worry, to untangle my tubes so I can go to the bathroom, to get me Lay’s and ginger ale, and most of all, to just be there. Always.

There’s a girl who takes treatment on the same day as me and we do not even know each other’s names but when we see each other, we light up and there’s a shared bond that’s really kind of unexplainable. We’re both going through the same thing. I think about how exciting it will be when she finishes and when I finish and we can blow that popsicle stand, but as weird as it sounds, I have spent crucial time with these people and it’s going to be hard to leave them all (the nurses, the staff and the patients.) I have compared fighting cancer to being a soldier and although I don’t know if I am right about this, I suspect that when a soldier gets to go home to his or her family, it’s the most wonderful thing, but at the same time, there’s that same feeling of leaving those you have served alongside through some of the scariest and hardest times of life.

I am 5/8 of the way through this part. I will have my surgery in August and then my second surgery will be in November. I have said that I just want to get this all over with so I can get on with my life and have normal dilemmas once again like what am I going to cook for dinner and who can get the kid from practice tonight. 

While I won’t have to go to chemo every other week or have the side effects or have drain tubes or all the other things that are happening now and in the future, this will now forever be a part of who I am. Nothing will really ever be the same as it was because I am no longer the same as I was. My friendships are deeper, my gratitude is richer, my faith is deeper, my family is stronger, and my priorities are realigned.

I still hate doing dishes and cleaning the toilet. I guess some things are still the same.

-lightningbug

Chemo Brain

Someone said to my dad last week, “I thought Amanda must be feeling bad because she hasn’t written in a while.”  The truth is I haven’t been feeling as good as I was the first six weeks. My allergies have really added to the being worn down thing. I blow my nose around the clock and now I have a cough that sounds like I have the pneumonic plague. Saturday I was showered and dressed and ready to go to a lemonade stand and then on to a birthday party and I started getting chills. I ended up running a fever that day and night. Seems it was probably something viral. It has taken me a few days to bounce back from that.

I’m tired, I don’t focus on things so well, I’m coughing every breath. I know. Sexy. A pajama wearing, forgetful, nearly bald woman with the whooping cough.  And I can't taste anything. Coffee is bland, pepperoni pizza is bland, Fruity Pebbles are bland. Doesn't really matter, I haven't been hungry in a few days anyway. I am making myself eat but the desire isn't really there.

I’m halfway through my chemo. I’m so ready to be done with it all. I’m starting to feel impatient I think. I just want all this to be over with so I can move on with my life. The warm weather has caused me to think about being outdoors and I want to revamp my back patio and I want to get a load of mulch and get my landscaping done. I want to repaint my kitchen cabinets. I have a ton of different projects I’d love to get into, but I just don’t have the energy to do them right now.  And that is very frustrating to me.  I am trying to just listen to my body and go when I feel like going and rest when I feel like resting.

I’m looking forward to the school year finishing up so I can have my kids at home. They will fight and tear the house to smithereens, but I still like having them at home.

I’m tired and this blog was nearly pointless tonight but that’s kind of how I have been for the last week. Hopefully my cough will let up and I will regain a little energy and be back to my usual shenanigans in two shakes of a lamb’s tail!

-lightning bug

Don't WIG out! It's just hair!

I decided I wanted to have a hair shaving party…a wigging…a funeral for my hair and a celebration of what that dead hair means! That dead hair means those drugs are killing my hair and my taste buds and God only knows what else, but they are killing my cancer cells also! I got up this morning and started trying to find the day for the party. I wanted anybody who wanted to be there to be there because you guys have supported me so much! I decided on this Friday. I’d do it down at the church outside and we could have a fire in the fire pit and we would have a big cake and it would say “Don’t wig out! It’s just hair!” Cake makes everything better. And we would have plain Lay’s chips in the yellow bag because they are my LOVE right now and maybe some gourmet pizzas from Little Caesars.  And for the finale, we were going to have a pink balloon launch.

I was so excited. I was even going to make Kevin buy me a fabulous crown and place it on my head (which he would’ve never in a million years done, but in the music video of my life that plays in my head to he is totally doing that and singing “You are so beautiful to me" while wearing Ray Charles glasses.

Focus Amanda.

I had chemo today. Chemo went great. I also met with my oncologist and he told me that my horrible headache last Friday after chemo was probably caused from the Neulasta shot. After I described the pain to him, he explained that because I’m so young (brownie points to him for how many times he kept saying “SO YOUNG!”—I’m putting him in charge of my birthday cake this year! He can write “You are so young and you have amazing bone marrow, Reowr!” He said the Neulasta was like giving my bone marrow five cups of coffee. Yes my oncologist talks to me in coffee terms because he ROCKS! He thinks last time was the worst it will be and he thinks this time will be much better. That will be our prayer this week! Deana came to chemo with me and Dr. K told her to keep me straight. She told that man it was a full time job! The nerve!  On a serious note, Deana is my rock, my soul mate, my everything. She is amazing.  Today we looked at the wig and scarf catalog and made jokes about the weird stuff in those things til I laughed that funny laugh that sounds like I have a bad case of bronchitis! (ain’t nobody got time for that!)

I came home and every time I touched my hair, I had at least a dozen strands in my hand. Reality set in and I knew I wasn’t going to make it til Friday to have my hair shaving party. I would be lucky to have any left by Friday even if I didn’t touch it! Kevin came home from work and I told him that I needed to shave it tonight.

My friend Kim texted and asked if we were going to be home because she had something for me. I told her no because Natalie had a softball game. I told her just to leave it but she said something goes in the freezer. I was thinking chicken pot pie or a lasagna or something. I told her I would leave the door unlocked and for her to go on in and stick in there and that’s what she did.

We went to Natalie’s softball game today (brrr!) and some friends were there with “Team Amanda—friends don’t let friends fight alone” bracelets. How incredible is that?!  

The boys on the baseball team (9&10 year olds) are praying for my healing in the huddle. 

Someone messaged me and told me they had found themselves praying and they had never been one to pray. 

This is the lowest point in my life, yet my heart has never been fuller. The blessings I have received throughout the last two months have been unreal!

I have kept Philippians 4:6-8 on speed dial.

6        Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 

Verse 6 is the one I have always been familiar with. My grandma loved that verse. Keep it close to you but never forget the THANKSGIVING part!

But verse 7 is WHERE IT’S AT! 
Verse 7 drives it home and gives me what y’all keep calling “inspiration” and “strength” and “great attitude” and all that.

I hear all the time “I just don’t know how you are keeping it together.” 

I want to say (and a lot of times I do!) “HELL! Neither do I! No clue!" 

Verse 7. That’s why.

      

        7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your                  hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. 

The “peace of God, which transcends ALL UNDERSTANDING.” 

Well then. I’ll take that for $500, Alex.

We returned from the game and had dinner (thanks Meal Train awesomeness!) and I pulled up a chair in the kitchen. I told Kevin I wanted a cape. He pulled out this ridiculous, thin, white cape that looked like a trash bag. I told him I bet it had red pull ties on the back of it. He wasn’t amused but said he had a good cape and went to find it. I got the good cape, which he told me was $10 extra. *rolls eyes* I got my cape on and we were getting ready to begin. The boys ran in and I asked Natalie if she wanted to join in and she began to cry. Oh boy. Maybe God gave me Deana to warm up for Natalie because she too, is my soul mate. She is my heartbeat. She wanted NO PART of the hair cutting. I wasn’t expecting it to hit her like that. She cried and cried and cried. Then I cried and cried and cried. And then Papi cried and cried and cried. And then Kevin said, “What the hell?! Nobody cried one single tear when I lost all my hair!” And then we laughed and we laughed and we laughed. Natalie didn’t cut one single strand of my hair and I understand. I’m her mom and she’s my girl and I understand.

The boys on the other hand had a bit too much fun…

They got it buzzed down pretty good for me, so I don't have to worry about hair flying everywhere and in a few more days, even my buzzed off locks will be gone. I'm cool with that though. Gotta kill it to heal it. Guess what was in my freezer? A Dairy Queen ice cream cake. Kim brought me a DQ ice cream cake and she said it was a big fiasco because it wasn't what she wanted but they needed more time for what she wanted but that God kept bugging her to bring me a cake today so she did. I got my cake today. 

If you see me around, I proabably won't look the same way twice. I am outside my comfort zone but I'm planning on calling up some of that Haunted House Bravery!

-lightningbug

Round 1...FIGHT!

(Saturday)

This has been a crazy week. This week I began chemotherapy. 

Talk about words you never imagined your 38-year old self saying.

I arrived at the hospital at 10:15 on Tuesday morning. I had my blood work (you have to have blood work before each chemotherapy session to monitor blood counts.) After my finger stick, I went to my chair and sat down. My best friend Deana was with me. The nurse cleaned up everything and began my premeds and then began my chemotherapy. I am taking adriamycin and cytoxan.  Getting my chemotherapy was not the morbid experience that I thought it would be. I had my best friend by my side and we did chemotherapy like we have done everything else in life—with laughter and fun and full of life.  I walked out and was starving and I went for lunch with my dad. I had a BLT and greasy fries—exactly what the nurse told me I shouldn’t have. Oh well. It was yummy. That afternoon, I went to Roanoke to my daughter’s softball game. I felt good and was sure that I was going to knock this chemo crap out of the park. The following day was a good day also. I returned to the hospital for my Neulasta shot. Neulasta is a man-made form of a protein (amino acid) that stimulates the bone marrow and promotes the growth of white blood cells (neutrophils.) White blood cells help your body fight against infection.  After I got my shot, I took off to Salem to the wig shop to pick up my wig. I was still feeling great and energetic. I got my wig and came back home, ate a yummy dinner (the meal train is going to make me a fat girl!) and then headed to Riley’s track meet. I started to feel a little tired as the sun began to go down at the track meet. I went on home and got ready for bed and turned in for the night. 

Thursday I got up and felt a little sick to my stomach. I couldn’t drink my coffee and opted for ginger ale instead. I went to work and didn’t feel horrible but didn’t feel like myself. I came home that afternoon and was so tired so I went to bed. Friday morning I woke up with the most horrible headache. I guess I should backtrack just a little. I haven’t had an actual good night’s sleep since chemo began. The steroids mess with sleep.  Friday morning I woke up (although I had been up and down all night) with a splitting headache. This was like a headache I had never had before. For those of you who have migraines, my heart goes out to you. I have no idea how you endure those things. The headache I had hurt from the back of my head, all the way down to my forehead and to my ears. My eye sockets hurt, my cheeks hurt, my ears hurt and my eyes hurt to open. Everybody was checking on me yesterday and my eyes hurt so bad that I couldn’t look at my phone long enough to return a text. It was bad. I spent most of the day in bed.  I finally got up about 8pm and tried to eat a little (unsuccessful) and then went back to bed and slept all night (although again, up and down, up and down.)  When I woke up today (Saturday), I felt so much better. I still had some traces of a headache, but compared to the last day, I felt like a new woman!

(Sunday)

Saturday was a good day and today was even better! Today I got up at 6:15 am so I could be at the Sunrise Service at 7 am. I knew if my body allowed me to get to church, that it would strengthen me. My body allowed me to get to church and stomach a huge Yeti full of coffee and some yummy pastries at the continental breakfast and go back to the 11:00 service and then home for a yummy Easter dinner prepared by my mother-in-law!  She makes the best potato salad ever and I got to have two helpings today! Yippee!  Today I went with my family to Douthat and I ran around the yard and shamelessly beat the crap out of my youngest child in an egg hunt! It was a great day. And my red birds came by to say hey this evening.

What Cancer (and other storms of life) CAN do:

1. Can restore your faith in God.
2. Can restore your faith in humanity.
3. Can readjust your focus and priorities.
4. Can put you in the path of people you would otherwise never meet.
5. Can put people in your path that you would otherwise never meet.
6. Can make you relatable and inspirational to others and others relatable and inspirational to you.

I'm certainly not thanking cancer for invading my life. It IS an invasion. I didn't invite it, nor do I want it here. Make no bones about that!  I'm going to do this though. I'm going to beat this. Friday was so horrible and I know there will be many of those horrible days ahead, but I'm doing this.
And when cancer or other storms of life invade your life, YOU can do it, too.
It's not always easy or fun but good can and will come out of it.

-lightningbug

Back out in the world...the WallyWorld

Today I went out in the world. The Wally World, that is. 

It’s not that I have been avoiding the place, per se, it’s just that Kevin has been doing the shopping for the last couple of weeks to help me out. Today I needed some almond milk for my yummy smoothies so I went to Walmart this morning. Unless you live in Covington, VA or some other little Smalltown, USA, you won’t understand this. Walmart is not only a supercenter for groceries, motor oil and small kitchen appliances, but it is also a social gathering supercenter. If you go to the Walmart, you are guaranteed to see a minimum of ten people you know. That’s just how it is. I was there pretty early though, so the odds were in my favor. It wasn’t really that I didn’t want to see anyone, but rather, that I had barely combed my hair and I hadn’t applied any makeup this morning. I like to look halfway presentable on a normal day, but when you are recently diagnosed with cancer, you want to look great when you go out. You want people to say, “Oh I saw Amanda today and she looked fantastic!” as opposed to “Oh my gosh, I saw Amanda today and she looked like death warmed over.”

When I walked in Walmart, I hadn’t even made it to get my buggy and there was a breast cancer survivor who had reached out to me not long after my diagnosis. She gave me a hug and asked how I was and she said, “Now you’re going to have to get used to this. You have to come out and people are going to see you and you will be just fine.” Of all the people for me to run into as soon as I darkened the non-pearly gates of the Wallyworld. Coincidence my hiney. She was placed in my path. As I went through the store, I ran into a couple more people who grabbed me and hugged me. Having people care about you…knowing people are praying for you…it’s the best feeling in the world when everything around you is in limbo.

After I finished up in Wallyworld, I thought hmmm, I’m going to go over to Burger King because my dad has breakfast at BK almost every morning. You know the Tim McGraw song "Live Like You We're Dying?"  There's a line that says, "All of a sudden going fishing, wasn't such an imposition..." That line of that song has played in my mind since being diagnosed. I am not planning on dying but when you receive life-changing news, things that seemed inconvenient or unimportant suddenly aren't anymore. I popped over there and he was there so I sat down with him and had a cup of coffee. I ran into another lady who wasn’t a cancer survivor but had an awesome story of how God had completely healed her not once, but twice. I’m talking she was prepped for surgery and they went in and what they thought was there was no longer there. Miracles happen.

I told my dad last night that I wanted to get a bird feeder so the red birds would come back to see me. When I sat down today, he said he started researching last night to see what the cardinals liked to eat and what kind of feeders they liked. My daddy. He is something else. He was going to Tractor Supply after breakfast to get me a feeder and the right kind of seed (cardinals like sunflower seeds, cracked corn and millet.) You should go get you a bird feeder and seed if you don’t have one. I always thought I had enough animals to feed and I didn’t have time for the birds, but there is something so peaceful about birds. And just like everything else that hasn’t been a coincidence; the “fight song” that I picked for this battle is “Fly” by Maddie & Tae. 

Click here to see Maddie & Tae performing Fly at Children's Hospital at Vanderbilt

I found out on Friday morning, February 19^th that I have breast cancer. It hasn’t even been two weeks.  In those almost two weeks, I have had 13 breast cancer survivors contact me. Each one of those beautiful, awesome ladies has given me something different. I am now in this exclusive club that I didn’t want to ever join, but I am now a card carrying member. It’s like a sorority and those 13 ladies (and counting because I know more will emerge) are my big sisters who look after me and help me every step along the way. They have been through it and they know. They have cried the same tears and they have stayed up at night with the same worries. They understand. And when I make it through to the other side, I too, will be somebody’s big sister.

The Saturday after I found out, I was out walking. It was a beautiful afternoon. A friend messaged me and said, “My sister has been through this and if you ever want to talk to her…” Little did I know that this person would become my biggest cheerleader. Then last night, I was put in the path of a triple negative survivor. Nobody wants to have this common bond. None of us wanted to get cancer. But we did and good CAN come from it. We can be a light to one another—people who would have never been put in my path if not for this are now there. Good WILL come from this. I’ve already seen it so many times in just a short time.

I have received cards and calls and texts and gifts and food and emails (hundreds of emails!) I have the BEST team behind me. Thank you to everyone who has reached out to me. Your love overwhelms me and sustains me.

-lightningbug

I Always Thought Unique Was Great Until Now...

I waited until I got through the weekend to write. Sometimes writing is so therapeutic and sometimes it's so hard on my heart that honestly I don’t have it in me. I hope none of you ever have to experience this. It is the most gut-wrenching thing I have ever done. Trying to stay positive and not let fear rule my life is proving to be a full time job.

Friday I went for genetic counseling. Friday I found out that I am what is know as “triple negative.” If we were drawing straws for breast cancer, mine would be the short one. Triple negative breast cancer or TNBC accounts for about 20% of all breast cancer. Leave it to me to be the exception to every rule.

TNBC means that the cancer cells won’t be receptive to drugs like Tamoxifen and Herceptin (hormone therapy or medications that block HER2 receptors.) What does that mean? Well, it means that instead of hormone therapy, treating TNBC involves chemotherapy, radiation, and surgery.

TNBC doesn’t have as great of a prognosis as other types of breast cancer. The way cancer prognoses are determined are on five year scales. TNBC had five year survival rates of about 77% versus 93% of other types of breast cancer according to a 2007 study. TNBC has a greater chance of recurrence. Also, TNBC is grade 3 which is the most aggressive grade.

I was blood tested for the BRCA gene mutation and those results should be in next week.

(I explained the BRCA gene in a previous post.)

So that’s the news I had to digest over the weekend.

That doesn’t paint the whole picture yet because that was just the news from the pathology report and genetic counseling. I will have more of a full picture after I see the breast surgeon on the 11^th.

So as you can imagine, this has not been an easy weekend. I’m trying so very hard to stay upbeat and positive. It’s who I have always been and it’s what everybody expects from me. Nobody wants to see Amanda in the bathroom floor crying. Nobody wants to see Amanda not smiling or laughing. Amanda doesn’t want to see Amanda like that.

Every single joy seems to have a bitter aftertaste of fear. Every moment…every activity with my kids or my family or my friends leaves me wondering how many more of these I will get. 

With all of my heart, I hope a lifetime of them.

I am so tired of crying. I don’t know if my eyes have ever cried so many tears. And that's saying something because I'm a cry baby!  This morning I decided I would run a nice, hot bath and just soak. I did just that. I sat in that tub of hot water and I tried to let the weight of the world just wash right off of me. But halfway through, I was sitting up clutching my knees to my chest and sobbing. I was crying out and begging for more time—more time to raise and actively love my kids, more time to make a difference in the world, more time to splash in puddles and scratch puppy ears and kiss my husband—more time to live. The water was cold when I finally got out of the tub. Close to an hour must’ve passed while I was in there.

I sat on my bed in my bathrobe and I began to think and cry, think and cry.

When I was a kid I thought 38 years old was ancient. Now I’m 38 years old and I realize that I have just begun. I am finally starting to figure out this crazy life and I can’t and I won’t have this stupid [insert every curse word you can pull out] cancer stealing my life and my joy.

So I stopped crying and I got mad. I got so mad. Smoke may have possibly been coming out of my ears. I was mad at cancer and I was mad at myself for letting cancer tear me down. I went downstairs and I got a marker and I got some paper and I started writing all the reasons that cancer would not win. And I started writing down scripture that would lift me up and empower me. And I started walking around my house and I started posting them all over the house. On the top of my laptop it says, “I’m beating cancer because I still have things to do on earth!” (write my book) On the front door it says, “I’m beating cancer because I am strong” along with Joshua 1:9 (I’ve commanded you to be brave and strong, haven’t I? Don’t be alarmed or terrified, because the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”)

I have these posted all over the house—in the bathroom, in my bedroom, coming down the hallway, behind the sink when I’m washing dishes—everywhere!

They days and weeks ahead of me are full of unknown and fear but God’s already up there. I just have to trust.

-lightningbug