Fill ups...boobs and lamps...

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

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

Me: You’re asking a lot here God.

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

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

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

Well then. 

10-4 God. 

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

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

-lightningbug

Fragile: Contents Under Pressure

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-lightningbug

Jesus & a Bedazzled Hat

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 -lightningbug

Twas the night before mastectomy...

Twas the Night before mastectomy and all through the casa,

I was running around and feeling quite awesome.

The bras were hung in the closet with care,

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

The kids were riding the hoverboard down the street,

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

Kevin in his athletic shorts and I in my wig,

Were sitting outside smoking a pig.

When out on the street there arose such a clatter,

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

Away to the fence I flew like a flash, 

Tore open the gate and saw the big crash

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

Well played.

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

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

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

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

Bye bye boobies, hello life.

-lightningbug

Un(W)hol(E)y

Last Sunday I had to go to Lowe’s and there’s this unwritten rule that when we go to Lowe’s in Lewisburg that we have to go to Sweet Frog for yummy fro-yo.

I had on my little gray cancer cap. That’s what I call it. Nobody wears a hat like that unless they have cancer. Sometimes I can hide the fact that I have cancer if I wear my wig and put on my eyelashes. When I wear that hat, I may as well have a sign on my forehead that says “I have cancer.” Wigs are hot as the devil’s butthole. I like to look normal. I do. But some days I could care less. I just want to be comfy.

After we got our fro-yo, I looked over and there sitting with his parents, was a little boy. He was probably about Wyatt’s age. He was cute as button. He looked normal enough. Then as I kept looking, I saw that he had braces on his legs and he had crutches. I don’t know what his health condition was that required leg braces and crutches and I hope it’s something that will be fixed soon for him.

That day I felt connected to that little boy. We both had physical conditions that made us appear less than whole. I got to thinking that day about all of us. You know, none of us are whole. We all have something that makes us un(w)hol(e)y. It might be something visible like a cancer cap or leg braces or it might be something internal that nobody can see. It might be insecurities or fear or addiction or grief. It might be any number of things. It was easy for me to see the little boy’s physical condition and for him to see mine. It’s not always easy for us to see inside others’ hearts. I got to thinking that day about how we might all feel more connected to one another if we took the time to look into one another’s hearts and to listen for the things that might just connect us as imperfect, un(w)hol(e)y human beings. 

Yeah, we should slow down and do that more. 

-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

Hair in curlers kind of life...

It has been a while since I wrote last! That’s a good thing! That means I am busy living! I am all finished with chemotherapy. Hallefreakinglujah on that! Now I am in r&r mode for six weeks awaiting my double mastectomy.

I still have side effects from the chemo. I have had some neuropathy. Neuropathy is disease or dysfunction of one or more peripheral nerves, typically causing numbness or weakness. The peripheral nervous system is a network of 43 pairs of motor and sensory nerves that connect the brain and spinal cord (the central nervous system) to the entire human body. 

So. What’s that mean? Well, I can’t feel my fingers and toes a lot of the time. I have a constant eye twitch that is driving me BONKERS! That’s from the chemo. I go from hot to cold worse than a menopausal woman! I freeze to death and put on fleece pjs before bed and then halfway through the night I’m sweating and stripping down and throwing all covers off. My body is all out of whack. My legs have lost a lot of strength so walking long distances can be challenging. All in all though, I’m doing great. I have bad days and sometimes I even get mad that I have felt so great—or “forged on even when I didn’t feel completely great” is probably a little more accurate.  I think my family and friends sometimes forget that anything is even wrong because I try to keep up with my life as much as I can. And that’s a good thing! Having a husband who wouldn’t let me lay around and feel sorry for myself has actually been a great thing. Did I ever tell about the time I was resting on the sofa and he came inside and wanted me to come outside and TRIM THE HEDGES? I seriously wanted to take the hedge trimmers and cut his head off. I was so mad that he would wake me up when I was resting and actually ask me to trim the shrubbery! But looking back, those are exactly the kind of pushes I needed throughout this battle. Those are the kinds of things that kept me active and hopping!

Finishing chemo seemed surreal. It was surreal that I even had cancer but then it was surreal that I had endured 16 weeks of really harsh chemotherapy and it was now over. The staff at Blue Ridge Cancer Care is amazing and I hope none of you ever have to go through cancer care, but if you ever do, I highly recommend them. They are knowledgeable and loving and caring and that is a wonderful mix! Chemo was never a sad or morbid time for me. It was actually a FUN time! It was a chance to connect with others going through the same thing and it was humbling and I sit here and reflect with tears in my eyes…I will take those experiences with me for the rest of my life. 
Everybody has a story. Take time to slow down and listen. Really listen. 

I went to Florida between my last two chemos! Who does that??? I do! My Kansas cousin met me and Nat and we stayed with our aunt in Florida and we had such a wonderful few days! It was long overdue and I am so glad we got to do it! Cancer has a way of freeing your calendar for important things like spending time with family.

The sucky part is that the thousand year flood decided to come on the day we left. We barely made it to the airport and while we spent our dry, sunny days in the sunshine state floating in a pool and eating grouper, our hometown and surrounding areas were living a nightmare. When I left the house, our house looked like an island in the middle of a lake and our basement had several inches of water. After all was said and done, we had about 9 or so inches of water in our finished basement. 

We lost three trailer loads of things. Kevin had to pull up all of the carpet. Riley’s bedroom was in the basement. He lost his dresser and chest. I lost two pairs of Uggs which devastated me. I got water in my hope chest. We have no doors downstairs now and the walls had to be cut about a foot from the floor. Basically we are starting from scratch again and that sucks but we will do it with an attitude of gratitude, thankful that our house is still standing and our family is intact.

Tomorrow morning we leave for Myrtle Beach! Yippee! The Crushers have been planning and fundraising for a year now to make this trip happen. The Crushers are an extended family. Yes we play baseball but we also are a group of people who spend a great deal of time together making memories and loving one another and that is a really special thing that you don’t find everyday. I’m so proud to be a part of that group!

1. Yesterday my dad went to the doctor and he found out that he has “narrowing of the aorta.” More testing and then go from there. 

2. Kevin and I bickered over stupid crap yesterday. 

3. And for the finale, Riley’s car took a trip across our front lawn, through the ditch, across the highway and into the ditch across the highway yesterday with nobody in it. 

So yes. I had a very bad day yesterday, but even in the crappy days, we still have so much to be thankful for! 

1. I am beating cancer! 

2. Riley’s car wasn’t damaged. Nobody was injured!

3. We are all alive and well and "this too shall pass!"

When I went to the doctor on Tuesday, there was a lady in the waiting room with her daughter. She reminded me so much of my grandma that I actually cried in the waiting room. It was her voice and just the way she talked. Her daughter was asking her about pictures from when they lived in Michigan. The daughter said, “There was one of you with curlers in your hair.” That triggered the lady’s memory and she said yes she had those. For some reason, the thought of the daughter treasuring that picture of her mama in curlers has stuck with me. Our loved ones don’t care what we look like. They only care about our hearts. When we look back in 50 years, it will be those “hair in curlers” memories that will be the nearest and dearest, not the dressed to the nines selfies.

Momaw’s spirit was very strong that day. I know she has been with me every step of this journey. I know she has heard my cries and I can just see her running barefoot (I have no idea why barefoot but that’s the way I see it) to Jesus and telling him that her precious granddaugter is in need of healing and peace and getting all of heaven organized to get me well. I have no doubt in my mind about how that all went down! 

I have no doubt in my mind that the reason I have done so well with these treatments is not because I am “so strong” or “brave” but because of all of the prayers that have been humbly surrendered on my behalf. I can’t thank you all enough for that.

August 10 is surgery and I will know if the cancer is gone then. Your prayers have gotten me this far…our next united prayer is CANCER FREE on AUGUST 10!

#wegotthis

-lightningbug

Meet Brownie...

Meet Brownie.

He came into my life about 35 years ago. He has been through just about everything imaginable with me. Check out his eyebrows and his nose and his eyes and the wear and tear around his old mouth. He is showing his age. My Momaw sewed his eyebrows and his nose back on more than once.

I was downstairs in Leggett on Main Street with my mom when I was only about four years old. I actually remember this. I can almost see how the store was set up. Isn’t it funny what we remember? This little brown dog was sitting on top of a rack of children’s clothing. I fell in love with him. I can’t remember if my mom bought him for me or if we ended up going back after him on a subsequent trip, but Brownie came home with me. I wanted a real puppy from the time I can remember but I got Brownie until I was old enough for a real puppy.

Brownie was my buddy. I am an only child, so loneliness was something I struggled with. I had lots of neighborhood friends to play with and was socialized well, but it’s still not the same as having a sibling in the house. Brownie was my playmate when I was young and as the years progressed, Brownie developed a different persona.

My dad and I have always been really close. We may have a lot of differences, but I would say our hearts are the same. I was a very shy child—an introvert. I bottled a lot of things up and it has always been like pulling teeth to get things out of me. I would say I still have many of the same attributes. I have turned to writing for as long as I can remember because that’s the easiest way for me to get my feelings and thoughts to make sense.

My mom and dad fought a lot when I was growing up. I’m not writing tonight to blast my parents. It’s just a reality. They’re divorced now and should’ve done it way before they did, but life is tough and you do the best you can and when you know better, you do better. My mom and dad fighting was just one of the many childhood stressors—we all had stressors of some sort. When I would get all tucked in for bed, my dad would come in and sit on the edge of the bed and say prayers and he would make Brownie “talk.” And he used his voice but made it a super high pitched voiced and Brownie would talk to me about things that might be bothering me. Brownie has talked to me about my parents, broken hearts, girl drama, and a million other things that I can't even remember. What I remember is that I could talk to Brownie about things and open up when I couldn’t talk to anyone else. It was genius parenting and I have no idea where my dad learned that or if it was a complete fluke. Regardless, it worked.

Papi and I have been spending a lot of time together this week. He is really trying to take care of his mom. Tonight he made me popcorn and apple juice—my favorite lately. He has become really protective of me. Tonight he went to his room and got Brownie. (I passed Brownie down to him a few years ago.) Brownie did a lot of whispering in my ear tonight. He told me to tell Papi that he is doing a wonderful job of caring for his mom. He told me to tell Papi that he doesn’t have to worry about mom because she is going to be just fine.

And just like that…Brownie…a little stuffed dog is once again bringing love and comfort. I have no idea what my mom paid for that little brown down in Leggett but I assure you that it was worth every penny.

-lightningbug

Morning Musings...

Saturday, June 4, 2016. 

I had chemo last Tuesday. The chemo I am taking now is called Taxol. It’s supposed to be easier than the first four rounds and I guess maybe it is in some ways. Taxol has its own set of challenges, however. You’ll remember last time I told you about my intense muscle and joint pain. My oncologist said he was afraid I might experience that and he seems to see it more with younger women. He felt that the second one wouldn’t be as bad. And so far the second one hasn’t been as bad but when I hear “I don’t think this one will be as bad” I actually hear “I think you will feel so great that you will be able to go out and jump hurdles!” Not exactly what he meant apparently. Last night it started to hit me and today it has continued to hit me. I ached from about 3 am up until I got out of bed at 7. I ran a hot bath and put some muscle soaking salt in there and hopefully it will help. In addition to my legs aching, I also am getting these shooting pains in my head. That’s always fun. Sigh. As if it’s not enough to have cancer, then you get to think you’re also having an aneurysm! Ah. Good times! I hate not being able to get up and do what I want. It’s definitely frustrating. I know I will feel better by Tuesday if I can make it through these next couple of days—it’s just getting through the yucky days.

The other thing that is annoying these days is my tasters are completely off. I have no appetite. You have to eat when you have cancer because you need your nutrients and your strength yet I want nothing right now. Get this. I haven’t even drank coffee for three days. I have been drinking apple juice because it tastes good to me. That is just plain insanity right there! And I’m hungry! I sit around and think hmm, wonder what I could eat that would taste good to me? Last week it was watermelon. I had an ice cream cone yesterday and even that didn’t taste good to me. It’s frustrating. I can’t wait to taste again. I love food and coffee and doughnuts—you know I haven’t had a doughnut in probably two months? That’s just crazy talk! 

Safe to say I'm pretty sick of having cancer. I’m just over it. It sucks. And then I feel guilty because I think of all the people who have an illness that won’t ever be over—it will be a constant fight forever. Rest assured my fight is not all sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes I have dark clouds and thunder just like everybody else. I just try not to let it stick around very long.

I am having some neuropathy—my fingertips are numb and tingly. I had this after the last treatment but it went away before I took the second treatment. And I am so tired. I worked Thursday and I came home and I went to bed at 5pm. I was just absolutely zonked. That usually seems to get better by Tuesday so that gives me a week of feeling decent before it’s time to go back. The good news is I only have to go back two more times! My next chemo is on my 39^th birthday! They offered to reschedule it but the truth is that knocking out one more chemo is the best birthday present I can get. After that one I will only have ONE MORE!!!

I think I have explained the process, but several have asked so maybe I haven’t. After I finish my chemo (last week in June), I will rest for a period of four to six weeks. That just pretty much gives my body time to chill out and get ready for another hit. I will go back to see my breast surgeon after I finish chemo and she will check things out and then get things rolling to set up my surgery (should be August.) The surgery will be done with my breast surgeon and my plastic surgeon and will be about a four hour surgery.  I am having a bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction. What does that mean? Both boobs are going adios and they are putting in a balloon like device behind the muscle that they can access to fill with a salt water solution every week or two. That will allow everything to stretch over time and then in about three months after that surgery, I will have another surgery to remove the balloon device and have silicone implants inserted. There’s a chance more surgeries will be required but I am being optimistic that everything will go great.

The surgery in August will be the hardest part of all of this. I will be out of commission for a couple of weeks and knocked out on some strong pain meds. I don’t look forward to that because I am a bit of a control freak and I have NO IDEA how life will POSSIBLY go on without me for two weeks (think highly of yourself much, Amanda??) Gotta do what you gotta do I suppose.

Now that I have told you how I’m feeling and what the next few months hold, I have to tell you about the FUN upcoming stuff! And there is all kinds of fun stuff!

Our baseball team has a tournament in Myrtle Beach in July! I wasn’t sure I would be able to go after my diagnosis, but I should be good to go! I'm so excited! Rest and relaxation, salty air and sunshine = best medicine for Amanda. Anybody who knows me knows that is my 100% happy place.

The Battn’ for Boobies Softball tournament that my friends have organized will be July 23 at Jackson River Sports Complex (get registered if you haven’t!) It's way more than just a softball tournament so even if that isn't your thing, be sure to come down and hang out with us!  

The Covington Lumberjacks are having a breast cancer awareness night on July 26! Be sure to come out for that!

And last but not least, I am having a Bye Bye Boobies party at The Rail on Friday, July 29. I have had the most AMAZING SUPPORT throughout this journey and this is my chance to say thank you to everyone. Be sure to come to The Rail and bid my boobs a fond farewell…a Boob Voyage…Ta-Ta to the Ta-tas. More to come on that later!

If I could only figure out how to bottle up the support that this community has shown me, I would give it to every person who is battling cancer. You all have done more for me than I can ever express.

-lightningbug