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

The Nose Hair Trimmers…A Cinderella Story

Two years ago we were heading to Myrtle Beach for a family vacation.  The car was all packed up and sitting in the driveway. I hopped in the drivers seat and said, “Let’s Go!” and that’s when all hell broke loose. My husband and I don’t like each another’s driving. He came out and said, “If you are driving, I’m staying home.” I said, “Adios dude. We went last year without you and had a blast. I’m sure we can do it again!” When he realized I wasn’t backing down, he finally sat down in the passenger seat and away we went. There was tension during the trip because of the way it started. It seemed like little squabbles kept popping up between us and between the kids and between us and the kids. It was just a crappy road trip. At one particular point, no one in the car was speaking. About ten minutes went by and all of a sudden, we looked over and my husband was all the way up in the visor mirror with a pair of nose hair trimmers buzzing, pretending to trim his nose hair! 

WHILE WE WERE DRIVING DOWN THE ROAD TO THE BEACH!!!

Well you can imagine the laughter that erupted when that happened! We all started laughing uncontrollably and it wasn’t long until we forgot why we were all mad at one another in the first place.

Believe it or not, that is an actual method of conflict-resolution. When used skillfully and respectfully, a little lighthearted humor can quickly turn conflict and tension away. (www.helpguide.org) It allows you to get your point across without getting the other person’s defenses up or hurting his or her feelings. Or in our case, if the fight was silly, it allows you to just move on!

Pulling out the nose hair trimmers certainly doesn’t fix all problems in life, but if we would pull out the nose hair trimmers of life and make each other smile and laugh more and stress each other out a little less, life would be happier.

-lightningbug

You're so vain...You probably think this blog is about you...

Today is one of the days that I have been dreading. I’ve thought about it, read about it and tried to prepare for it. For the last couple of days, I have started to think that my hair is coming out. I am blessed to have a head of amazingly thick hair. It’s nothing for me to have a fistful of hair after I shower. I guess the new growth just fills it all in.  Yesterday at the ball tournament, I frequented the restroom (thanks to a bazillion gallons of coffee I drank) and each time I would wash my hands and look up in the mirror, I would see some hairs on my shoulder or hanging down from my hair.  Today I showered and washed my hair and there was probably triple the amount of hair that normally comes out when I shampoo.  I dried my hair with the dryer and probably an equal amount came out then. Run fingers through hair, ten strands in your hand. You know how you shampoo and condition and then once that conditioner gets through and everything runs clear, no more hairs come out? Well this doesn’t go that way. Hairs keep coming out. I could run my fingers through my hair all day and probably not have any left by the end of the day.  It’s a weird feeling. And I could not shampoo and not blow dry and not fix my hair and keep it a little while longer, but it's still going to come out eventually.

I’m a vain person. I care about how I look. A lot. I know it’s just hair. It doesn’t have anything to do with who I am or what’s in my heart, but I am still going to miss it. I knew it was drying out and becoming brittle last week, so I asked my hairdresser if she would cut it down for me. I knew it was coming. She gave me a cute little hair cut. When my Papi (10 years old) got in the car that afternoon, he didn’t even notice. I said, “See anything different?” He said, “No.” I turned all the way around and pointed out my hair and he said, “Oh! You got a haircut.” Then he said, “I don’t pay attention to your hair, I just pay attention to your face.”

When he said that, it made me think of Peter taking his eyes off Jesus. No he’s not walking on water and no I’m not Jesus, but he is looking to me for guidance and love and direction and confidence. And none of that comes from hair, makeup, clothes, or accessories. All that little boy is looking at is my face…my love...my light—and that light isn’t coming from Maybelline (although I do think Jesus gives his total stamp of approval on a good eyeliner and mascara.)  

Chemo tomorrow. Once that is over, I will have half of the really hard ones knocked out. I'll probably clipper my hair this week. I can't keep up with the dog hair around here, let alone human hair!

Gotta kill it to heal it. #wegotthis

-lightningbug

A little Carly Simon for you Monday pleasure...

Always Take Off The Shin Guards...

Two years ago, our first year together, U-8 travel baseball team went to Richmond to play in a tournament. If memory serves me correctly, this was the third tournament we had played together. When we got to the complex where we played, one of our coaches went around to scope out the other teams. He came back and you would’ve thought he had seen a ghost. He said, “I can’t believe how hard these other kids are hitting the ball.  He said, "I'm not really worried about losing. I'm pretty sure we are going to lose but I am scared to death one of our kids will get hurt out here.”  And thank goodness, none of our boys were hurt, but we got our butts handed to us that weekend. We didn’t win a single ballgame.  The season improved some that year and the boys began to improve and play more as a team.

Fast forward a year. We were in U-9 last year. We went back to Richmond last spring. We played three games on Saturday. Lost the first, won the second, lost the third. It was so disappointing. We played like crap. It was one of those days where if it could go wrong, it did go wrong. Because of our crappy day of ball, we got the grand prize of being in the losers bracket and getting the 8am game [insert extreme sarcasm.]  I remember calling my dad and telling him we would probably be back to Covington by lunchtime on Sunday. Things played out differently though. We beat the Vipers in game one. Then we played the Frozen Ropes and lo and behold if we didn’t beat them, too! I have never seen our parents and fans so excited! It was so intense and thrilling to watch these kids who couldn’t catch a cold or hit the ball a lick yesterday to come back and win two games! I was standing by the fence and our catcher was on deck and we had two outs. He still had his shin guards on. I said “Take those shin guards off! Always take those shin guards off!” Well, he looked at me like I had three heads and the whole team probably thought I was coo-coo.  “Always take the shin guards off!” became my battle cry that day! Our catcher was doing exactly what catchers do. They wait to get their gear off until they know for sure they aren’t going to be going back on the field. That gear is hard work to get on and off and is time consuming! I continued to say “Always take the shin guards off!” What I was trying to convey to these youngsters was to have faith in that guy up to bat. Have COMPLETE FAITH. Have “Take the shin guards off because you're going to get on base and I’m going to bat” faith!

Those boys fought their way through the losers bracket and they played for the silver bracket championship against Tuckahoe Flying Squirrels. And the story could end there and it would’ve still been a great one, but guess what happened next?  We won that game 20-0!  It was such a great day! We had two players who were awarded great accolades by the umpire. It wasn’t just a baseball tournament, it was a weekend full of memories and laughter (not so much laughter Saturday but we tend to always have fun, win or lose), and lessons.  It was a weekend of losing together and winning together, all the while, being of good character and picking yourself and your teammates up when they are down. I can’t think of a greater representation of life.

A month or so ago, our team ordered sweatshirts. My husband came home and asked if I wanted a sweatshirt. I said no but I didn’t tell him why. The reason why I didn’t order a sweatshirt was because I didn’t know if I was going to live to need a sweatshirt.

Yesterday I took my shin guards off and I ordered a sweatshirt. I plan on using it for many years to come.

If you are keeping your shin guards of life on, take them off and trust the one who is ahead of you.

-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

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

We May Not Know What The Future Holds...

Wow, what a couple of weeks!

The ups, the downs, the fear, the blessings…just wow.

Today is March 17. February 17 is when I had my biopsy. Just a month ago—my whole world was completely picked up and shaken in those four short (the longest of my life) weeks.

I never want to feel the way I did those first couple of weeks. I never want anybody to feel like that. My heart has never ached so much in my entire life than it did during that time. The brain is the most incredible organ. It can alter so much. It certainly wasn’t working in my favor those first couple of weeks. My heart kept telling me that God was in control and that this is all part of my purpose and something good WILL come from this, but I had such trouble seeing that for all the fear! Stupid, ugly, horrible, gut-wrenching fear! Boy, can it ever grab a hold of you and dig its nails in!

People keep telling me how strong I am and how positive I am and how I have such faith—I say hogwash! I have failed so miserably with all of that! As my kids have grown, my life has sped up to rocket speed and I put God somewhere behind baseball, getting the laundry done and organizing my boots by height and color. God hasn’t been first in my life lately. But the wild part is that he hasn't put me on the back-burner. He was with me when I got that cancer call, he was with me when I was in the bathroom floor crying, he was with me at that MRI and that bone scan and everywhere else I have been and everywhere else I am going.  He was the first person I cried out to and He could’ve so easily said, “Pssht. Nice try sista. You only called because you needed something” and sent me straight to voicemail. But He didn’t. He sent His love to me in a hundred different ways. He has put hundreds of people in my path to love me and reassure me and hold me up. He has put His stamp on everything that has come my way.

When March rolled around, I picked up an Upper Room devotional book from the church. I always get one but I haven’t read it for a while now. I didn’t have time of course—I mean between a part time job and three busy kids and my Netflix addiction—you can see how there just wasn’t time.  I started reading it again and it has become something that my kids and I look forward to every night. THAT’S something I am proud of. Everything I read from there seems to be tailor-made for me and here are just a few examples:

March 1—“Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” –Isaiah 41:10

 March 3—“Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”—Philippians 4:6

March 7—“Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.”—Matthew 11:28

March 8—“Why my soul are you so downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.”-Psalm 43:5

March 13—“I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”—Jeremiah 29:11

March 14—“My attitude and actions affect whether I experience God’s blessings flowing freely or as a trickle.”-William George Gosling

March 15—“Dear God, when we want to be first, show us how we can humbly serve others.”—Lisa Bartlet

March 17—“The Lord your God will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”—Zephaniah 3:16-17

As most of you know, I had extreme paranoia that my cancer had spread to my bones because of a coincidental lower back thing that I’ve had going on. Worrying about that consumed my every thought. Yesterday I got the call that my bone scan was clear. I had actually rehearsed this in my mind. I had thought about that call coming in. I had thought about how it would feel for that weight to be lifted off of me. I never could imagine how my mind would be able to grasp and react to anything but good news though. When I got that call, I literally fell to my knees and sobbed and thanked God. I have never felt anything like that.

My friends have set up a “meal train.” They have all got together and they are bringing our family dinner every other day for the duration of my chemo (that’s 16 weeks!)  In just a week, the calendar is practically filled up! Every day I receive cards and gifts and so much love and kindness. I can’t explain what it means to me, yet it is also hard! It’s hard to accept help! I read something the other day that has stuck with me though.  If I don’t accept others blessing me, I am robbing not just myself of the blessings, but I am also robbing them of the joy of serving! So I am going to try to really remember that, even when I feel like everybody is making too much of a fuss over me!

And the meal train is just the tip of the iceberg.  My friends and family are amazing! AMAZING! All kinds of awesome things in the works!

Yesterday I had my port put in. It’s in my chest above my good boob and that’s where they will put the chemo through and draw blood and all that good stuff. As usual, the staff was amazing. I don’t know how you medical people do it, but you guys are awesome! My oldest son Riley took me to Roanoke for the procedure. It warmed my heart so much that he did that for me. This is not something you ever want to endure nor do you want your family to have to endure but I love them so much for stepping up and loving me and taking such good care of me.

Riley and I went to the wig shop yesterday morning. Can you just imagine a 17 year old boy sitting in a wig shop watching his mom try on wigs?! Well he did. He rocks. And I have a fabulous wig ordered. You didn’t think this cancer thing was going to make me have bad hair did you?!?!

Tomorrow is a CT scan and an echocardiogram and next week I begin chemotherapy. I am scheduled for eight rounds, every other week and then six weeks of rest and then a bilateral breast mastectomy, possible radiation and reconstruction. I have a long, uphill battle.

I changed the church sign the other day and it says, “We may not know what the future holds, but we know who holds the future.”

True story.

-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

You Said You'd Be Here, So I Knew You Would...

Last night was a bad one. And I wasn’t going to write about it, because I don’t want anybody to see me weak, but then I wouldn’t be honest with you and I want to be honest, even if it’s not easy for me.

Yesterday I was filling out a family history form for the genetic testing (which I think is quite ridiculous anyway…if I’m paying thousands of dollars for you to do genetic testing to see if I have gene mutations for cancer, why do I have to do all the work?!) ANYWAY, I do. I have to fill out this very in depth family history. While working on this, I remembered that my aunt had given all of this to me in an email a while back. I searched through my old emails and I found the email. I also found next to that email, an email telling her that I wanted the family history because I was making an overdue gyno appointment because I had a “soreness in my left breast” and I “had even convinced myself that I felt a lump a couple of days ago” but now it’s no longer sore and I can’t feel anything so I think it was probably all in my head and was probably just a strained muscle.

I read that and I almost fell out of my chair. I didn’t even remember that! And it wasn’t something that I had even mentioned to the doctor then because I couldn’t even feel it after that.

What if… What if I would’ve told her two years ago? What if I would’ve insisted on a mammogram then?  What if this shit has been there that long? Here I thought it just popped up a month ago, but what if it’s been there for ages? What if it has take over my entire body? And I’ve read the statistics on that once it’s spread. I don’t have a snowball’s chance in Hades if it has spread. The dreaded "what ifs" that plague every one of us.

And then I got up from my desk and Oh My Gosh! My back! My lower back! I have had lower back pain for at least 10 years but at that moment I was sure that the cancer was now in my back and that’s why my back was hurting so bad.

I made it home and plopped down in the chair. I needed to go get some groceries but I was drained. And sitting in the chair felt good. Getting up felt bad, walking felt bad, bending over felt bad. Sitting and laying down felt ok.

I looked all over for the stupid heating pad and I couldn’t find it. And I kept having to bend over to look for it. Mental note: Never store a heating pad where you have to bend over to get it because if your back is hurting, that really doesn’t feel great.

Never did find the heating pad, but I finally found a heated throw and turned it up on high and laid on that. It was better than nothing. I laid back and I began to sob. It was just the culmination of everything. It was the realization that this may have been there longer than I thought and the danger that goes along with that, it was the feeling of despair and fear, it was thinking of how people think I’m so positive and I’m just a big, fat fraud. And then on top of all of that, my stupid back decided to stop working! I was crying so hard that I thought I was going to hyperventilate.

My sweet boy and I were the only ones at home at this time and he walked in on me. He said he heard me and asked what was wrong. I did what any good mother in that situation would do. I lied like a dog. I told him I had been reading something and it made me cry. Which technically I have been reading all kinds of things that have made me cry, but that wasn’t the full truth at that moment. He looked up and he gave me a hug and kiss and then went back to watching something on his iPad.

I want to be like him. I want to be child-like and not have this fear inside of me.

I was supposed to have lunch with him one time at school. As usual, I was running late. I ran in right at the last minute and I said, “Oh my gosh! Did you think I had forgotten?!” He calmly replied, “No, I knew you’d be here. You said you’d be here so I knew you would.”

That’s faith. He has complete faith in me. “You said you’d be here so I knew you would.”

Through this journey, I need to remember that statement.

When I think for a minute that God isn’t with me, I need to remember “You said you’d be here so I knew you would.”

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble—aka 

“You said you’d be here so I knew you would.” 

It could be the school cafeteria or cancer.

My husband has had a hard couple of days also. It’s not just me who got the cancer diagnosis. He got it too. And our kids. And our family and our friends and our community. We all got it.

I don’t know what it’s like to be married to someone with cancer. Hell, that may be harder than having cancer. He has to try to be strong for me and the kids and he has to keep going to work and be proficient in his job and then come home and help with everything at home and then he sees me in my bedroom crying into a pillow. And he has to put on a brave face and put all of his feelings on hold to lift me back up.

Last night my friends stepped up and encouraged me when I was in that dark place. They prayed hard for me and they sent me pictures of survivors (one of the pictures was me.) They calmed my fears and told me that cancer could not jump around like lice and fleas and spread when I told them I was CERTAIN that has already happened. I had some sweet peas come to my door last night with flowers and cupcakes!

See, I told you I’m not the brave one here. You guys can’t see because you are on that side, but you are the brave ones. YOU are holding me up.

Keep up the good work.

-lightningbug

Haunted House Bravery

The last few days have been so long and exhausting. The support I have received has been overwhelming, to say the least. I have had my nose in my phone or laptop for four straight days because I have SO MANY friends and family who are cheering me on!

And when my friends and family send me a message or bare their soul to me, “thanks” just doesn’t seem quite adequate. It doesn’t even begin to convey what the hugs and prayers and well wishes and the insight have meant to me in the beginning of this journey. I have tried to reply with my heart, but honestly, there isn't enough time in the day. I will eventaully get back to each of you though! I promise!

I have cancer. That still creeps me out to say, so when it creeps you guys out to think about it, don’t worry! I’m totally right there with you!  Nothing else has changed about me though. I am still going to sit in the bleachers with you and laugh about everything under the sun and I’m still going to cuss because I still cuss and I’m still going to drink like 14 cups of coffee a day. I'm still just me.

You can talk to me openly and honest about my cancer or how that girl at the fair last night could’ve really benefitted from a hot oil treatment. We can take it either way. Everybody (including my kids) knows I have cancer now. That’s the way it had to be because that’s how I roll. So you don’t have to worry that you are saying something wrong or something that you shouldn’t. I almost posted a pic of the enormously disgusting bruise on my boob from the biopsy the other day. THAT’S how open I want to be with you. In a year or two, some young woman will get that horrible news that I did on Friday, but she won’t have all of the support that I do, and she will feel alone and hopeless and she is going to stumble on this blog and she is going to laugh and cry but she is going to walk away with hope and know she is not alone.

There’s no rule book that comes along with this. You can say what you feel comfortable with saying. If hugging me and saying you love me and you are praying for me and asking me about my upcoming doctor’s appointments is what you want to do, then do that; if asking me about my son’s upcoming baseball season is what you want to do, then do that. I have cancer, not cooties, so don’t be afraid to treat me just like you did last week before you knew. Yes, I need support and yes I love hugs and yes I love that! Someone hugged me over the weekend and said, “I know you’re probably getting sick of this…” NOOOO! Never would I ever get sick of that! And in five years when I’m completely healthy and even more fabulous that I can possibly imagine, you better still hug me and say, “Man, we kicked that cancer’s ass.”

Because love and support doesn’t have to be confined to hardship.

Everybody keeps telling me how brave and strong I am. I’m really not brave or strong. Yes I have a positive attitude because that’s just who I am, but I’m not brave and strong. My friends and family are brave and strong and I draw my strength and bravery from them.

We were at a haunted house last Halloween and I hadn’t been to a haunted house since I was a kid. My husband said, “You just have to be scarier than they are.” So he would come around the corners and he would scare the ghosts and the bloody zombies before they could scare us and we did more laughing than being scared.

That’s kind of how I feel about all of this. I’m not sure I’m actually brave or strong, but I plan on creeping around the corners and scaring the hell out of cancer before it can scare me.

Yesterday morning I got the call with my first two appointments. I have my MRI on March 9^th and I see my doctor on March 11^th. That was the week that I was supposed to go to Baltimore. My husband had training for work and I was going to tag along and spend my days in the hotel room in my bathrobe binge watching Netflix while he was at class and then we would have the evenings to hang out at the Inner Harbor (one of my absolute favorite places.) In our almost 18 years of marriage, we have gone away without kids once. This would’ve made twice. Instead, of Maryland crab cakes and relaxation, I will be in an MRI capsule and then discussing how to proceed with cancer treatment.

And yes, that sucks. And yes, I’m a little bitter. And cancer better be glad that it’s not baseball season and the Orioles weren’t in town or things could’ve gotten really ugly, really quickly.

Yesterday afternoon I got another call from Roanoke and this time it was to set up my appointment for genetic testing. Who knew? So I go this Friday for genetic testing.

And somebody will read this who doesn’t know that I am adopted. Yes, I am adopted. I found my biological family in 2013. Not only did finding my biological family give me a second, incredible family and support system, but it also gave me my family history. I know that I have an aunt who had breast cancer pre-menopausal (age 46.) I will be tested to see if I have a gene mutation that makes me more susceptible to breast and ovarian cancer. This testing also will reveal how the cancer is fed.

From brestcancer.org:  Breast cancers in women with BRCA1 abnormalities are more likely to be estrogen-receptor-negative — meaning that the cancer’s growth is not fueled by the hormone estrogen — and to have “high-grade” cell growth. Both of these characteristics mean that chemotherapy will be more effective than hormonal (anti-estrogen) therapy in treating these cancers.
BRCA1- and BRCA2-related cancers often test negative for overexpression of the gene known as HER2/neu. This genetic abnormality is not inherited, as BRCA1 and BRCA2 mutations are, but can develop in women over time. When the HER2 gene is overexpressed, the cancer cells have too many HER2 receptors (human epidermal growth factor receptor). HER2 receptors receive signals that stimulate the growth of breast cancer cells. HER2-positive breast cancer is considered to be a more aggressive form of the disease, but it can be treated with Herceptin (chemical name: trastuzumab), a medication that targets HER2. Most BRCA1- and BRCA2-related cancers cannot be treated with Herceptin because they are HER2-negative.

If you’re like me, you probably zoned out halfway through reading that like a college freshman in a biology class, but basically through this testing, they will be able to tell if I have the genetic mutation and they will also be able to tell what treatment will be most effective.

www.breastcancer.org is a super great and informative website. I have done way more research there than I ever imagined I would.

This week, several breast cancer survivors have stepped up and contacted me. I am a writer and I can’t even express what that has meant to me. All of my friends and family have shown me the most immense love—but to have people who have lived this hell to talk to you and walk you through the dark valleys—that is more than I can describe. 

-lightningbug

In a world of Eeyores, Be a Tigger

I ate and drank myself through the Christmas holiday. When I went to slip into my favorite pair of jeans for a New Year’s Eve party, I nearly died. I could barely get my thighs in them!  I was about to bust the seams out! I got on the scales and realized that over the summer and fall, I had managed to gain 25 pounds. I mean…when you’re good...you’re good. Wow. 25 pounds. In a matter of months. I went to the party in a different pair of pants. The following week, I decided enough was enough.  I decided that 2016 was going to be the year that I took care of Amanda. I haven’t had an actual doctor in seven or eight years. I know that sounds terrible. My former doctor stopped practicing due to family matters and I still haven’t been successful finding a replacement. “Find a doctor” was on my list of things to do in 2016. I also decided after nearly 10 years of lower back pain, I was going to bite the bullet and go to the chiropractor to see if I could get lined out (no pun intended.) I decided I was going to start eating better and exercising. 2016 was the year for Amanda.

I had been working out downstairs. I had my Gilmore Girls on Netflix and I was rocking out those 25 minutes on the elliptical. I finished that and then lifted weights. Healthier and stronger in 2016!

I finished up and noticed that my left boob was sore. I was thinking it was probably from those butterflies I have been doing. My upper body hadn’t seen weights in a couple of…ummm…decades. Yeah, ashamed to admit that but nevertheless true. I came upstairs and I took off my shirt and lifted up my bra and started feeling around on my sore breast and there it was. It was a lump. First of all, who decided “lump” would be a good word for it? That is a horrible word. How about a fluff? Fluff is a good word. Lump is horrible sounding. I found a lump though. As luck would have it, I already had my yearly GYN visit scheduled for that following Monday (this was Friday.) I had my exam that Monday and I told my doctor what I had felt. She felt it and didn’t really feel like it was anything but went ahead and scheduled a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound to rule out the bad stuff. I had the mammogram and ultrasound done on Monday, ten days after my exam. Perks of being a small town girl--I knew the girl who checked me in, I knew the girl who did the ultrasound and while I didn’t know the girl who did the mammogram, we are chatty in small towns, so I felt like I knew her before we finished.

I kept hoping to hear things like “this really doesn’t concern me” or “we see this a lot, it’s probably from too much coffee.” None of those words ever came though. What did come were “We see some asymmetry. It may or may not be anything but we want to err on the side of caution and go ahead and get a biopsy.” 
Biopsy. Just like lump, it’s a horrible word. Lump…biopsy…and we all know what comes next in that list of horrible words.

I went in for the biopsy on Wednesday. My dad went with me and also drove me to the mammogram Monday.  The day of the mammogram it was snowy and the roads were bad. If it would’ve been just an ordinary mammogram, I would’ve rescheduled but I had waited over a week and I couldn’t wait any longer. I would’ve called the National Guard to get me there if I had to.

I have such a good dad. I’m sure a lot of us feel that way about our dads. He is usually the pessimist (hello Eeyore) and I am the “eternal optimist” or so he nicknamed me years ago. I always see the glass half full. I always give the benefit of the doubt. I think everybody has good in them and I think there’s more good in the world than bad. I’m the funny, light-hearted one.

For the last couple of days, I have been the pessimist. “Tut, tut, looks like rain.” I have been cheating myself out of today’s joy and blessings by worrying about tomorrow. And because I’m worrying about my children and their future, I have justified it all in my head. I’m doing nobody any good though. I’m making myself sad and everybody around me sad and worried. My Eeyore dad looks like Tigger compared to me. My husband is coming back at me with coach pep talk when I start to be a Debbie Downer. Everybody wants funny, witty, light-hearted Amanda back. And so do I. And she will be back. But for now, she waits in limbo.

*********************************************** 

“Hello?”

“My I speak with Amanda Griffith?”

“This is she.

 “I wanted to go over your mammogram results.”

“Yes.”

“I spoke with the ultrasound tech today. She said they were concerned about that mass, which is surprising to me. [MASS??? Now it’s a mass??? Now lump doesn’t sound so bad anymore. Ok, focus Amanda]

“Yes. I’m supposed to have a biopsy tomorrow.”

Everything from that point on, I can’t remember. I can’t remember because I was standing at the dairy cooler in the supermarket with my daughter while I took this call.

Ok, let me take this time to interject. There should be a girlfriend doctor’s guide and the first question you should ask is, “Hey gurrrrl. You ain’t all up in the Wallyworld are ya?” Because medical reports should not be given while I am trying to decide between mozzarella and monterey jack and my daughter is looking at me.

I’m sure all of the color drained from my face. It wasn’t that the news I had just received was really any different than before, but it was a different delivery. And it scared me. And somehow I got to the checkout counter with my cheese and my daughter, and I was texting my husband and I don’t remember checking out and the cashier probably thought I was the rudest person ever. And there’s a lesson I took away that day. I have looked at people and passed judgment on their actions or words. “Oh my gosh how rude!” But what if those people had just received some bad news? We don’t know everything we think we do. We need to be kind to everyone we meet, even if it doesn’t seem deserved. I wouldn’t have deserved anybody to have been kind to me that day, in that moment.  We don’t know what others are struggling with. Always be kind.

*************************************************

Wednesday

I arrived at 7:40 am to register for the biopsy.

“What would you like to pay today?”

“Well I’m not sure. What is today’s cost?”

“!$%!”

 “Oh, is that all?”

“Buh-bye Lasik surgery."

Yeah. We rarely even meet our medical deductible throughout the year. We are healthy people. We had tucked away the maximum $2,500 in our flex spending account this year and if we came to the end of the year and the kids hadn’t broken a bone or we hadn’t had to spend that medical money, I was finally going to get my eyes corrected. 

This biopsy would have me meeting my deductible and my out of pocket all in one fell swoop. Grrrr.

After registering, I went into the room and they explained everything that would be happening. Basically they are going to numb me and then they use the ultrasound to see where the mass is and then they stick a needle in there and it sucks up the tissue sample and they release it into a jar to send off. Yeah ok, well they do that four or five times just to be sure they get a good sample.

While the doctor was looking around, he saw what appeared to be an enlarged lymph node. He decided to go ahead and biopsy that also. That is probably what scared me the most. I have heard people whisper about cancer patients, “Yeah, I heard it has moved to the lymph nodes” in that death sentence tone.

It took about four or five samples for the lymph node biopsy. After that was complete, I could finally put my arm down from over my head. I had it up there for so long that I couldn’t feel it. My hand and my fingers were numb. It felt so good to put that arm down. Next came my breast and when that needle went through my skin, I didn’t feel a thing, but it sounded like the jabbing of a dull pencil through a piece of rubber. The sound made me flinch. The breast biopsy went much faster and with three samples, they were finished. I got “tagged” and then went back to mammogram to do another mammogram with the biopsied spots tagged. This is done so they will know in the future what places have been previously biopsied.

I asked the doctor when my results would be in. He said Friday or possibly even Thursday. I told him to not make me wait through the weekend. I begged him to let me know by Friday and not make me go through the weekend not knowing. He gave me his cell number and told me to call him if I hadn’t heard something by Friday afternoon.

I got iced down and dressed and went on my merry way. I came home and I took turns between icing and sobbing. I was scared. All I could think about was how much my kids needed their mom. I frantically thought about proms and graduations and weddings and grandbabies. I had to be here to answer the phone when they called and needed help with a colicky baby or how to make cornbread or when they couldn’t find that lost pair of red socks that goes with their uniform. They need me. They needed their mom and I had to be here.

The following day was not much different. Less ice, but the same amount of fear and tears. Deep down, I felt like it was something, in spite of the positivity that surrounded me.

My closest friends and family knew about what I was going through by this time. They were offering me all the support and kindness and love and prayers that I could hold as we waited for the results. I have been surrounded by total love and compassion and it is a beautiful thing. Friday morning I got up and began the normal weekday routine, getting kids lunches packed and finding lost things, getting kids off to school. Everyone had left except Natalie and she was standing by the door and she said, “Hey mom, look at those two cardinals right there in the tree.” I walked to the porch and looked out there and sure as the world, there were two beautiful red birds in the maple tree in the front yard. As ridiculous as this sounds, I saw them and a peace that I hadn’t experienced until this moment, came over me. I had been praying for peace, others had been praying for my peace, but I hadn’t received it until that moment. When I saw those birds, I knew everything was going to be ok. I came back inside and I googled cardinals and I learned that sometimes our loved ones come to us by way of birds when we need them most. I have missed my grandparents every day since they passed but I haven’t truly needed their wisdom, their peace, and their amazing love until this. 

And there they were to tell me not to be scared and not to be anxious because it’s going to be ok. And like the flip of a switch, I was a different person. All of those doubts and fear were replaced with strength and positivity and hope and belief and complete resolve and suddenly there was no room left for fear and negativity.

******************************************

Friday

Around 10 am on Friday, my phone rang. Caller ID said Roanoke. I answered on the first ring. It was the radiologist who did my biopsies. He greeted me and the next word was “unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately the tumor did show cancer. It’s about 2 centimeters so that’s the size we like to catch it.” “The lymph node we biopsied didn’t show any signs of cancer though, so that’s a good thing.” He apologized for having to give me this bad news. I told him that I had three of the most amazing reasons to fight like hell and that I had no doubt in my mind that I would kick butt. He wished me the best and said farewell with “God bless.”

I hung up the phone and I didn’t cry. Not one tear. I didn’t fall apart, and in a way, I actually felt better than yesterday. Yesterday I didn’t have the facts. Yesterday I spent my day imagining the worst possible scenarios and practically making my funeral arrangements. Yesterday I sulked and felt sorry for myself. Virginia Woolf said, “It is far harder to kill a phantom than a reality.” I was fighting a phantom over the last two days—that voice in my head that was trying to destroy my resolve and my faith and my strength. It wasn’t a reality and it WAS far harder to kill. Now I have a reality. I have breast cancer. I am that girl that Martina McBride sings about—“Cancer don’t discriminate or care if you’re just 38 with three kids who need you in their lives.” All the years I have listened to that song and now it’s me. I am that 38 year old with three kids. And yes it sucks. Cancer sucks.

This was not what I had planned. We have baseball and softball and track this spring and a great beach trip this summer and I’m going back to school this fall to get my teaching degree! I didn’t have "get cancer" on the calendar.

None of this was planned and none of this was something I ever wanted to go through. I have cried and I have been scared, but I have never once asked “Why me?” And I won’t. This happened to me because it’s part of my journey. It’s not what I would’ve picked for myself—a little trip to the Caribbean with endless little umbrella drinks would’ve worked out just fine for me—but that’s not what was put in my path.

In the coming days and weeks and months ahead, I refuse to be an Eeyore. I refuse to cheat myself out of my todays by worrying about tomorrow. 

While there is a lot of unknown right now, one thing that I know with complete certainty is that my amazing family and my amazing friends will be right by my side to love me through it. 

We got this.

-lightningbug