Grace for my Stubborn Soul

I read a wonderful post recently which reminded me that when life looks like all we have done is failed, remember that our Father in Heaven had a perfect plan for His son, just as He has a perfect plan for us. The Lord will provide a way to be victorious over the obstacles of life.  Christ has risen and I relished singing Hallelujah with our congregation yesterday during Easter Sunday.  When we sat down to tell our kids that I had cancer in January, first, we needed to put things in perspective. It was important for us to talk about the atonement and what it means to Tim and I, because it is only through the grace of our Savior that we can do all things. This cancer is so much bigger than us, but we know His grace is sufficient to see us through. It is a personal relationship that each one of us can have with our Savior because He died for each of us. It is more to us than simply believing in what occurred in the past, it is knowing in our hearts how this occurrence changes and affects our daily lives. Our Savior’s ultimate sacrifice puts everything into perspective and allows us to be the flawed people we are.

Being Feisty: I mentioned in my first blog that this blogging experience might not be all faith and sunshine and this past week I’ve been a little grumpy. Okay, grumpy is not an accurate depiction, my emotions are similar to a roller coaster and there have been times when I’ve been down right irked about a few small things which rubbed me the wrong way for short amounts of time.  First of all, it is pretty safe to say that if you know me, you may know that I do not always like to be told what to do. Tell me something is impossible and I will find a way to make it possible. Tim actually likes this about me; this feisty desire to figure things out and go against the grain. I am not shy about this trait, I have mentioned previously that I am stubborn, but there have also been many times when this stubbornness has bitten me in the butt. At any rate, I regress, this week has found me temporarily frustrated with a few occurrences and annoyed with other human beings. But when coupled with the grace of our Savior, I have also been in awe of how easy it is to let go of the frustrations, keep things in perspective and remind myself that His grace is sufficient for all of us. 

Have you ever seen the SLN skits, ‘Really… with Seth & Amy?’ Well, I usually loved these fun filled rants (when they were clean), so I am debating starting my own, ‘Things that could irk someone if they allowed themselves to be irked’ rants:

1.   Being told I would come around to liking the color pink. Really? Is this a rule? Does everyone who has breast cancer feel a deep connection to this color? I think not. If there is one sure way to cement my thoughts on a subject, it is to tell me what to think, how to feel or what to believe about a certain topic. Just ask my poor mother. When I was eighteen years old and talking about voting for the first time, my mom made an innocent comment regarding just checking the ‘all republican’ box on the ballet and calling it good. I was appalled. What? Just vote for a party and not research the candidates or the issues? I’ll show you, I thought to myself… maybe I am a democrat! Ha! Maybe I am an independent whatever… obviously I had no clue… but the fact that I would blindly just do as I was told without finding out for myself what I personally believed effected my voting decisions for the rest of my life. I think I voted for Ross Perot out of pure spite.  Ha… tell me to vote republican. I’ll show you. I still cross party lines to go with certain leaders who I like more than others – do not even get me started about this year’s nightmare candidates on both sides. (Moving to Canada is looking better and better.) So the bottom line… do not tell me I will come around to liking the color pink – it is not happening. 

2.   Someone at church half-jokingly asked me if I was becoming Muslim when I showed up wearing a head scarf over my first Sunday of baldness. Really? Yep… really… at church. I cannot make this stuff up people. Really, sometimes it is best to say nothing rather than say something so idiotic to someone wearing a head scarf for the first time to church. But you know what? After a few minutes, I let it go because I love this person regardless. Haven't we ALL put our foot in our mouths at different times in our lives, or not known what to say to people going through difficult situations? All we can do is love each other anyways, share God’s grace and move on.

3.   Listening to an ostentatious young man complain about his living conditions, call one of the items we served him as ‘interesting,’ boast about what he looked forward to doing after his upcoming release, and seeing the wasted potential of two years of service all while he refused to look me in the eye while trying to converse. Really? I wanted to lecture this clueless kid about being humble…. “look people in the eye you little turd, even if it makes you feel uncomfortable, because it is okay to see that others are less fortunate than yourself.” But even a returning Elder can be clueless to seeing that others sacrifice for their own benefit. Really. Okay, once again, God’s grace whisks away the grumpiness because it is sufficient to understand that we are all God’s children and if personal growth does not come sooner, it will come later. People do not know what they do not know, and all the lecturing in the world will not speed up the process. People must figure things out on their own and it is not my job to enlighten a clueless twenty-one year old. Just love him for the clueless kid he was or is; God loves him and sees his potential, so through His grace, so can I.

   

4.    Seeing all my boys’ hair all grow back as quickly as chia pets… I know it is totally unreasonable to assume we would all be bald together for the duration, but the solidarity was nice while it lasted. Now the St. Baldrick’s high has worn off and I am missing my hair. The bottom line is that being bald totally blows and it is amazing how cold one can become with no hair to hold in the body heat. BUT then my kind friend Carin shared her head scarf collection and my young friends Sami and Mekayla made me a warm blanket. Aww… thank you for the grace of warmth and kindness sweet friends.  

I am currently savoring Sheri Dew's little book Amazed by Grace this Easter season and I just can't relate enough how grateful I feel for the grace of our Savior. Without the knowledge of Heavenly Father’s plan, one might question the life of our Savior and how it came to an end so abruptly following the miracles prior to His death. He taught perfectly, He served perfectly, He loved perfectly. In the end, He was rejected… but His life was no failure. We know the life of our Savior has more meaning than when He lost His life. Although it looked like He couldn’t change the hearts of the people, He still provided a way for them to do so… to come to Him. He overcame pain, sin, death and evil and therefore achieved the greatest success this world have ever known. He rose. We can do the same, figuratively, physically and spiritually. He saved us in every sense of the word and in doing so, led the way for us to follow Him.  Our guiding light, our brother, our Savior… thank you for showing us the way. Thank you for giving grace to a soul so rebellious, stubborn and feisty as mine.  

Being Practical

Exhibit A Flashback

There are times in our lives when we care what we look like. Moments in time when we want to look our best, such as special occasions, date night, or during the ages of 13 thru 25... when we tell ourselves our outward appearance actually matters. One would like to believe it is not necessarily about being vain, but maybe more of a reflection of feeling good about ourselves and being comfortable in our own skin. I remember school pictures being particularly stressful: what to wear, how to fix my hair, make-up, etc. as far as I was concerned, these photos were going to be seen (and judged) for generations to come. Oh the drama! So you can imagine the horror of breaking out with an enormous, monster zit on my nose the day prior to school pictures in 7^th grade. The 'north star' had appeared like a big red beacon and as far as I was concerned, my life was over and no amount of Seabreeze or Clearasil could remedy what ailed me. So I did what any unreasonable teenager would do: I rubbed and scrubbed, then I cried and whined, and then I begged to stay home. My mom, in her ultimate love and wisdom tried to reassure me that life would go on with her unrelenting philosophy, "There is a time to be proud and a time to be practical." So aside from an asteroid hitting the earth, I was heading to school. Murphy’s Law: Things can ALWAYS become worse... refer to Exhibit A Flashback (ignoring the 80's hairdo). Imagine my exasperation when I awoke the next morning to discover all my rubbing and scrubbing had rubbed the skin raw on my nose, causing a sufficiently sized scratch down the middle of my face; the north star had morphed into Haley's Comet. I think I might have tried to convince people that my cat scratched my nose or something ridiculous, but looking back now, I am sure no one was fooled. It was as plain as the nose on my face: Vanity 1, Practicality 0.

Going Bald and Paying it Forward: To many people receiving chemotherapy, losing your hair is a standard side effect. Our oncologist recommended taking control of the issue and shaving the hair off on our own terms rather than waiting for it to slowly fall out. I had a few ideas bouncing around about how we could do this, including sporting a mohawk in Seahawk colors with a #12 carved in the side of my head or letting our girls shave it all off while creating a before and after video – anything to feel better about losing my hair. Then while I was at the cancer center waiting for a routine blood draw, I saw a young girl walk by with her parents; she wore a hat on her little bald head and walked towards the chemo room with her rolling backpack in tow. Once again, I was flooded with gratitude for our personal circumstance; our situation is relatively minor compared to what many other families are going through. Another of my mom’s priceless philosophies came to mind, “When you are feeling down, do something for someone else.” So I spoke with several coworkers at City Hall West regarding why the annual St. Baldrick’s ‘Brave the Shave’ event was not taking place and what we could do to pull an event together. With a little scrambling, several people stepping up and some rockstar PR skills, we pulled together a ‘Boise’s Bravest and Finest’ fundraising event in less than two weeks and raised over $4000 for childhood cancer research! Although our event was undoubtedly a small drop in the overall research bucket, considering the short time frame and a goal of only raising $2500, participating in this worthwhile cause and raising more than anticipated completely rallied my spirits and put personal hair loss in perspective. Instead of lamenting over the handfuls of hair as it fell out, I just hoped I would have something left to shave on St. Patrick’s Day. My family joined in to support with Tim and Josh signing up to ‘brave the shave,’ then at the event, Mason (who hadn’t had a haircut since August and absolutely LOVED his luxurious locks) surprised everyone by joining in to participate as well. Annee shaved a cool low neck design under her ponytail and Ella dyed an under section of her hair bright pink (thank you Leisl!). Hair is just hair, but family support is priceless. Vanity 0, Practicality 1.

Woowee Baldie Family

Coming to Terms with Facebook (FB): There is an art to blending in throughout life and not receiving unwanted attention. Although I have a FB page, I am terrible at updating it and have rarely paid it much thought in the past unless it was regarding a work subject or event, a necessary evil in the nonprofit sector. Many people love FB, it is part of their daily lives and to each their own – no judgement here, it has just never been my personal cup of tea. With FB's often public and invasive in nature, I have always been fairly guarded and uncomfortable discussing my private thoughts with the FB world. I think I developed a love for anonymity when we moved to Idaho twenty-three years ago – it was nice not hearing details about other people’s personal lives or feeling like our lives were a topic of discussion. Today’s online media preeminence has changed all of this; FB is just one place where people post their best and other people often compare it to their worst – as if life was not hard enough. I have written several research papers for communication classes regarding the continuous inundation of media messaging, daily communication complications, unrelenting social pressures and shifting cultural values as people (including a majority of youth) jockey for autonomy while living in a giant fishbowl. All of which were fairly skeptical of FB and the multitude of mass media messaging processes. But for every negative aspect one could say about FB, there is another side as well and it is reasonable to assume that many people enjoy positive attributes of their FB experiences. One aspect I failed to fully comprehend until recently were a few of the positive attributes found on FB such as dancing dog videos that make us smile, positive quotes, and uplifting news stories. Many people are kind in general and want to be supportive; FB is one avenue to reach out and do so. Thank you to all those who have sent us positive thoughts and messages through FB; even if I forget to ‘Like’ your comment or reply, please know all positivity is appreciated and you have shown me a different side of FB in general. Although this does not mean I will be posting or reading posts on a daily basis, I am sure Zuckerberg, in his ultimate wisdom of parasocial relationships with the public, is relieved to know there is one less skeptic regarding his FB empire. Anonymity 0, Practicality 2.    

Genetic Test Results: Yippy! I am officially not like Angelina (yea, like I needed a genetic test to tell me that) and although bald, I am not a genetic mutant like Professor X (sorry Mason). We received good news that all of my genetic testing came back negative for pathogenic mutations. What this means: two things: 1) My mother’s pathology from a previous precancer issue is not a reflection of my hereditary genes, and 2) Our girls are not carriers of the gene which would make them more susceptible to developing breast cancer, which is a relief for this mother’s heart. They will just need to start mammograms at age 35 to be safe. This may affect our surgical options in the future as well, but it is simply too soon to go there yet. One step at a time people! Worry 0, Practicality 3.

Chemo: 2 treatments down, 16 more to go! Slow and steady wins the race. There is not much more to report other than the mouth and throat sores which have brought a new level of bland and soft foods to what I can feasibly choke down. Nausea, foggy brain, exhaustion, aches and pains... nothing new… yada yada. I will not focus my energy on whining about continual symptoms or complaining that life is rough. Chemo definitely stinks, but as long as it is doing the job it is meant to do, then we will deal with whatever it brings. Chemo Complaints 0, Practicality 4.

School: I took two midterms this week, one which delivered a lower grade than I am accustom to receiving… which frustrates the hell out of me, but I am still plugging away and look forward to graduating in May. Repeat after me: It is okay to not get an A. Pride: 0, Practicality: 5.

Ode to my Sweet Mother: This past week has proven there is a time to be proud and a time to be practical, as well as proving that doing something for others never fails to lift our spirits. Thank you mom for teaching me these valuable lessons when I was young; they have stayed with me. I hope our children grasp the concepts as I often repeat these same phrases to them. I have added several other attributes to the list of what can be outplayed by practicality: Vanity, Anonymity, Worry, Complaining, Pride = zero. Practicality and service to others will win every time. Love you!

Tender Mercies

Life has a way of reminding us we cannot always control our circumstances. The plan was to have chemo on a Thursday, recover over the weekend and continue on with work and school the following week. Isn't it great when we try to make plans without actually understanding what the heck we're dealing with? As determined as I was to not let this cancer impact work, family and my efforts to graduate in May, I've found myself fairly humbled by my own ignorance this past week. As with most things in life, we do not personally realize how clueless we are until we experience situations firsthand.  

Being Tired: My chemo cocktail of Adriamycin & Cytoxan (AC) treatment itself was fairly bearable; it just felt like I had the flu. The nurses were awesome, the nausea was manageable with medications, saltines and ginger ale, the steroids made me bloated and puffy faced, and a shot of Neulasta to stimulate new white blood cells in the bone marrow the next day made my bones ache like I was eighty years old. Easy peasy, right? Not so fast lady. What I was not prepared for was the incredible level of exhaustion. This is something entirely different from being tired after having each of the kiddos or being sleep deprived when studying for finals... this is a type of exhaustion I have never encountered in my life. Forget the fever spikes, swollen joints and not being around others because of the high probability of picking up bugs... this is an entirely different ball game. Blood draws verified the chemo is doing it's job, but my body is not reproducing white blood cells fast enough. Soooo... What can I do, eat Wheaties? Drink protein mix? Nope; turns out there is nothing I can personally do to help my body catch up or mass produce white blood cells other than rest. Tim officially grounded me for the weekend and I guess it paid off because I finally have the energy to write something tonight.
Chemo Brain: This is a quirky and real thing. I watched it happen with my dad last year as he struggled to grasp his thoughts as they floated in and out of his mind. I saw his frustration as he attempted to express himself with words that wouldn't come. It is completely surreal to feel it happening to me. A silent prayer of appreciation to my dad; he made the best of it until the end and I feel him cheering me on from the other side... 'just relax Therese; it will come to you.' While attempting to work on my ten-page prospectus research paper this week, I had all my notes laid out, my outline, my paraphrased quotes...everything except that nothing I wrote made any sense. A tender mercy from my professor who reassured me that she's going to work with me on this and give me extra time. Maybe she saw in my prior work that I can actually be coherent, but for whatever reason, she is taking pitty on my foggy brain and I have decided to love her forever.
Other Tender Mercies of the Week: 
1) Holding the sweetest angel baby & spending time with Trea. My niece Kabria and her hubby welcomed sweet Emma to the world - how lucky am I to get to hug her before they move back to Rexburg next week and see my rockstar sister who stocked our freezer and reassured me I was not losing my mind. 
2) Kind words from sweet family and friends. Thank you for the cards (any mail that is not a bill brings euphoria) and small gifts of support; it means the world to know so many are thinking and praying for us. I completely stink at thank you cards... do emails count? I will try to remedy this weakness because my heart is filled with gratitude and people should know how much these small gestures are appreciated. 
3) Jake came home and we took some family photos before I start to lose my hair. Thank you Barb & Brynn! I will post them publicly eventually... I just need to savor a little. 
 4) Wiggin' out with Josh and Trea. Thank you to the American Cancer Society for the free wig trying-on session. Trying them on was the most depressing and fun thing I did all week and almost made up for the lady at the wig shop who told me I have an abnormally large head... or did she say I have a larger than average head? Either way, my head is big... I have a big freaking head. Who says that to someone about to lose all her hair? Trea tried to ease the blow by reassuring the lady it was because I'm so smart, but really, I just wanted to punch out that well-meaning lady and her iddy-biddy proportionately sized wrinkled-up head. So, yea, that thought is bouncing around in my mind.... which is apparently floating around in a melon of a giant sized head!  Here are a few photos: the Hermione Granger is totally my favorite. Just sayin'... 

5) Pew sitting with our entire posse last Sunday... words can not express. God grants us His tender mercy when we least expect it... sometimes it is when things seem grim... other times we receive these mercies like a flood washing over our hearts that all is right in the world. The trick is to humble ourselves enough to appreciate His sweet and tender mercies however they arrive... just savor them. I am not a scriptorian; never have been, but Ether 6:12 points out that humbling ourselves helps us receive these mercies. "... and when they had set their feet upon the shores of the promised land they bowed themselves down upon the face of the land and did humble themselves before the Lord, and did shed tears of joy before the Lord, because of the multitude of his tender mercies over them." I am so very blessed. Being tired, chemo brained and big-headed are completely irrelevant compared to the many tender mercies God has placed before us this past week. I am savoring each and every one of them.  
 

Step 3: Begin Chemotherapy and Commence Ramble

We began chemo today and sometimes we just have to laugh. It often helps when life is randomly funny. The best is when something strikes us as funny when we least expect it. Every so often, situations occur which make us wonder if life is a clean version of an SNL skit (rare occurrence) or if we are being punk'd. It is also completely possible that our minds are just warped enough (mine especially) that we often find humor in arbitrary circumstances – and we must say it makes us smile. 
 
Curious Reaction: Tim is allergic to Saint Alphonsus Hospital. The moment we walk in the door, his eyes start to itch, nose starts to run and/or stuff up, and we feel the need to stock up on free tissues. We walk out of the hospital and he is completely fine… hmm.

Abandoned Strangers: We were led down a long corridor by a nurse to prep me for the port surgery last week. There sat an older woman in a wheelchair, wearing a hospital gown, hair completely disheveled, with a quizzical look on her face... just sitting alone in the hallway. No one else was in the hall… no nurse, doctor, or custodian… and our nurse, who was busily chatting away, made no acknowledgement of the woman’s existence. I looked around, then smiled and nodded hello as we walked by, but received the stink eye in return, which was sad, but funny too. I made Tim promise to never forget me a hospital hallway; for all we know, this woman looked like me when she first arrived that morning.

Cactus Butt: As part of my pre-chemo medications today, we received a quick warning while the nurse casually injected a fluid she referred to as ‘Cactus Butt’ into my line – we failed to remember the actual pharmaceutical name because my backside suddenly felt as though I was sitting on pins and needles. It was hilariously awkward. Although this was not something covered in Tuesday’s chemo class, rest assured, even with the prickly rear-end, booming headache and other anticipated side effects we will experience over the weekend and the upcoming months, the actual delivery of chemotherapy was fairly tolerable. I think we can do this. We might be singing another tune by May or June, but for now, we can do this. We will receive approximately 18-chemo sessions over the next five months; 1 down, 17 more to go. We will also never look at cacti the same way again.     

Final Football Observation: When reflecting upon the recent NFL football season and excellent Superbowl (woot woot Broncos! If my Seahawks can't be there, the Broncos will do) we found the celebratory touchdown dances, quarterback superhero gestures and the rampant folding-of-the-arms-and-nodding-triumphantly-to-the-crowd after each tackle, to be quite elaborate this year. These guys are seriously practicing and/or receiving assistance from showmanship professionals… they are probably in front of their bathroom mirrors mastering moves for next fall as we speak. The talented performers often receive vast sums of money in exchange for accomplishing tasks included in their job descriptions; they are stoked, even when fined by the league. We will cut the swaggering players a little slack because working in the NFL means ‘Not For Long,’ but wouldn’t it be nice to see this type of enthusiasm displayed by lesser paid professionals as well? Personally, I would like to see Tim doing a happy dance after fixing an IT issue at Deloitte, or crowds applauding police officers after a DUI arrest, or teachers performing superman poses after educating a student about a valuable life skill, or chemo nurses spiking the empty IV bags to the floor while bellowing, “I’m #1!” after a patient’s session (undoubtedly forgetting the other ten people who helped make the chemo ‘score’ possible). We would love to see people we know bust a move (awesome 80’s phrase) and create elaborate celebratory dances for doing their daily tasks in the workplace, for these entertaining one-upmanship demonstrations are not just for NFLers anymore! This would be a great picker-upper when the side effects of chemo start taking their toll over the next five months. If you're in, feel free to email a short 10 second video with your triumphant celebration dance to twoozley@gmail.com. :)

We are blessed to see extraordinary people achieving incredible tasks every day without receiving any type of fame or fortune. We are thankful for those who serve others while doing their job with very little gratitude or fanfare from society… they and YOU are the real superheroes in life. Bust a move people!      

Woozley Week of Firsts

Mason’s first fender bender in the high school parking lot. Our first auto-body realizations that taillights can be super-glued back in place but large dents are not always fixable with a toilet plunger. It's not pretty, but it'll do.

First internet hack. My Instagram account was hacked by a porn star with ironically nice boobs. Thanks for rubbing it in 'Devon Lee'... your timing is impeccable. The Instagram account is officially deleted for now. 

First PET scan initial results. Woowee! We'll learn details about it next week, but for now they said it looks as if no other cancer is detectable other than what was previously diagnosed, so I can stop worrying about every little ache and pain throughout my body... those are just from getting old.  

First torture experience. I have determined that medieval torture devices have nothing on modern medicine. Yesterday's procedure was more involved than both the previous biopsy and MRI experiences and it was decidedly not what I anticipated. Rather than laying face down on an MRI machine with 'the girls' dangling freestyle, yesterday found lefty being squeezed in a compression-style vice grip. Have to admit I dropped a few swear words (like a sailor) when they tightened the crank. After what felt like an hour (realistically 10-15 minutes)... of holding perfectly still, biting my lip while muffling my sobs and trying to hum a song in my head while inside the MRI machine, I eventually made it out and was lucky enough to receive as many numbing shots as possible to the entire area for the biopsy. Note to self: If this procedure ever needs to be repeated, request the numbing shots prior to the vice grip torture treatment.

First triple negative. There are are many different 'sub-types' of breast cancer; hence each person, regardless of the size of tumor, stage, etc. is individually different. As with all else in life, the important thing is to not compare ourselves to others. The HER2 results came back negative, which means I am classified as being a triple negative breast cancer, which means that my tumor is estrogen receptor negative, progesterone receptor negative and HER2 negative. Roughly 15% of breast cancer patients are triple negative. The good news is that this type of cancer usually responds well to chemotherapy, the bad news is that I will need chemo for approximately five months. Bring it...

First port: Tomorrow morning we'll go in for the out patient surgery/port procedure. We should have results from yesterday's biopsy in a few days. I'm not sure if it will change anything in my treatment schedule, it was mainly to verify other areas in my breast that looked cancerous. Maybe it will change the type of chemo they use, but we will need to wait until our next appointment with the oncologist to find out. We meet with him prior to starting chemo next Thursday.   

Finally, the first song I found myself humming in my head over and over during the MRI, and actually many times in the past month, has been a serious comfort. So if you are feeling fearful, I strongly recommend, "You Make Me Brave" by Amanda Cook. It has filled me with peace & thought I'd share a simple video of it I found online http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NGvqcjIZKTA&sns=em.