Perspective and Fried Pickles

It's funny how certain circumstances can alter your life perspective.  We seem to have a tendency to continually make mountains out of molehills, inflating minor issues to earth shattering catastrophes.  Then, In the matter of seconds all those grudges, those envyings, those misunderstandings vanish under the overshadowing diagnosis delivered.  Now each day seems like a blessing.  You no longer dread Mondays or look forward to Fridays, you look forward to every day.  Just as you fall into some sort of routine and start to feel sorry for yourself, once again you find yourself reminded of the blessings.  Sitting in a room receiving a cancer fighting serum, you realize how lucky you really are.  So what you find yourself back here every three weeks, the lady across the room comes each and everyday.  Simple pleasures become more like luxuries.  Those wants we thought we needed pale in comparison to the contentment we find in these simplicities.  Maybe it's curling up with your three year old watching Scooby Doo for the 100th time.  Maybe it's date night with your husband.  Maybe it's just fried pickles...yum (or so it is for sweet Mollie Wilder).  The next time you feel yourself becoming discontented with life, stop and reset your perspective.  Hug your child and remember why you longed to become a mother.  Look into your husbands eyes and remember how you felt when you said I do.  Just sit outside on a clear fall day and feel the presence if God and be thankful for each day and each simple pleasure he allows us.

God's Amazing Plan

Heart pounding, mind racing we headed to Shelby Baptist Hospital in Alabaster on May 31st, 2013.  According to my pre-admittance appointment the day prior, I was to be in the surgery center by 8:00am.  I still wasn't sure if my surgery would begin at 10am or 12pm, due to a question raised previously concerning the doctors' schedules.  We arrived in the surgery center right at 8:00am to find a lady from our first home community of Fourmile.  I knew that I would have several members of my family, friends, and church family there for me and Michael during my surgery.  So I expected them all to be there before we arrived, we are almost always late.  When I walked in to see this unexpected face, I couldn't make the connection.  I noticed that one of our supporters was sitting with her talking.  Upon inquiry, I found that she was there with her husband who was having a mass on his bladder biopsied.  While I was in the pre-op room, being "entertained" by the barrage of nurses and techs that paraded in and out, the woman I spoke of earlier was notified by her husband's surgeon of a strong suspicion that he had bladder cancer.  By this point, one of their daughters had arrived, and from what I was told, she did not handle the news well.  Several of my supporters were able to console and aid this family.  If it hadn't been for my early arrival and time waiting, there may have not been anyone there to help this family accept this discomforting news. In addition to this demonstration of God's amazing timing, Michael and the other supporters were able to talk with other waiting spouses, families, and friends.  One in particular would be at the progress board the same time as Michael.  They spoke and shared each other's experiences.  This special angel helped Michael remove himself from his current concerns, and open his heart and mind to the problems being faced by others, which is his nature as a Pastor.  This same special angel also purchased Michael's lunch.  A small gesture it seems, but given with such a large heart was used to help tremendously.

Now, to explain my "entertainment" I mentioned earlier.  As I was escorted into the pre-op room and instructed to change into the very stylish open backed gown, my anxiety grew.  I was thankful that this was a "room" with it's own private restroom, which I used multiple times during the 30 minutes or so that I waited or the first nurse.  I think my bladder was more nervous than me!  When the first nurse entered, I could tell she had a jovial spirit.  As strange as it may seem, this was yet another blessing.  I have a tendency to handle difficult situations with humor.  In fact, I can't even pick out a serious greeting card for an occasion, they are always humorous.  So we chuckled here and there as she breezed through the list of medical questions and the anesthesia tech arrived.  He was quiet with a surprising, almost hidden, sense of humor.  Each individual that entered had a kind and jolly way about them, even the anesthesiologist.  So by the time they had me mostly prepped and allowed the parade of family and friends to commence, I was at ease.  You could tell each person was concerned for me, but it seemed as if that concern was lifted to see me in high spirits.  Even when Dr. Wood and Dr. Oliver arrived to prepare Michael and I for what would occur during surgery, I felt strangely at ease.  It didn't even bother me too much when Dr. Oliver began playing Pictionary on my chest.  (Marking me for surgery with a lovely blue marker.)  Strange how humor can be used as a blessing.  "A merry heart doeth good like a medicine:..." Proverbs 17:22.

After surgery the first RN attending to me, that I remember, was yet another blessing.  She had just taken a part in the very same journey of breast cancer with her sister.  So she was able to give me insights not only in the medical realm, but also the more personal aspects.  During my two night stay in the hospital I was visited by many friends and family who brought me snacks, flowers, jokes and comfort.  Each one a blessing sent for a different need or reason.  I've never been one to openly welcome cordial visits, but through this journey God has opened my heart to develop a need for this companionship.  I now welcome any visit or conversation that God somehow knows how to send my direction.  Upon being discharged from the hospital a nurse from another area of the hospital visited my room with a surprise blessing.  Her message was that she had just discharged a patient who had sent a card with $50 enclosed for my husband to use to buy me a new dress for the next time I felt like attending church.  Whomever this individual was had met my husband in surgery waiting and felt compelled of God to send this token.  Again God had turned something unexpected into a plethora of blessings.

 

 

Once I returned home I struggled with simple tasks that now had become difficult due to the limited mobility of my arms.  That didn't stop me very long.  Even though I still required the assistance of Michael along, I was able to determine ways to maneuver around my limitations.  I have a talent that I like to refer to as Redneck Ingenuity.  I found ways to use objects around the house to aid in some of the simplest of tasks.  I would share, but since I am sending this abroad, I shall not.  (If you are on the same journey and are struggling with some simple tasks and would like to know what I am referring to, please contact me through facebook or as a comment on this blog with your contact info and I will be glad to share my secret.)  My ability to laugh with Michael about all of our adventures has allowed us to turn what could have become a depressing situation into a bonding experience.  I have also realized that God has been working on one particular blessing for quite some time now.  Even though I can ask the doctors and even a coworker who is a two time breast cancer survivor the medical questions related to my diagnosis and treatments, I had been given someone I could ask the random everyday questions.  My grandmother (paternal) had been diagnosed with breast cancer many years prior and had underwent a single mastectomy.  We had not been what I would consider close until my son Enman brought us together.  I will not go into the details of his adoption right now, I'll save that for another blog post, but through process of him being adopted from a relative, Nana and I had developed a new relationship.  So, without me knowing it, God had been preparing a blessing.

 

I have learned that having a strong church family is very important and helpful.  In times like these, the outpouring of encouragement, uplifting, prayers and of course food can make a huge difference in each and every day.  I never really understood the ritual us Baptists have of taking food to someone who is sick, hurting, or recovering.  I do now.  On the receiving end I see where you just don't want to, or can't prepare a decent meal.  So this provision has been a blessing of ease-of-mind, and so my family isn't stuck eating sandwiches and viennas.  My church family and God-given family have been so supportive through our journey thus far, that I haven't had to worry about anything being taken care of.  From my family and friends bringing in groceries and items needed for everyday living, to my sister and friends organizing a benefit singing for us, to church family making sure our insurance was paid while I am out of work without pay, every possible situation has been provided for.

 

There are so many blessings, that I can't even begin to name or even remember them all.  Some may have even gone unnoticed by me while I was feeling "not-so-good".  Regardless, each step, each blessing is all a part of God's amazing plan.  When this journey began, I wanted God to use me to help someone else.  I believe God is going to use me and everyone traveling with me in ways we'll never full know or understand.  One last story for this post to show how God can use you, even when "you" are not trying.  Before heading to the hospital for my preliminary PET scan, we stopped at our drug store to pick-up a prescription refill.  We were trying to use our time wisely, so we went through the drive thru.  I can't remember what Michael and I were talking about as we approached the window, but I remember laughing, which is not uncommon seeing as how I find humor is just about everything.  When the store employee opened the window, her first comment was "I appreciate your smiling face this morning, I can just feel the spirit of God".  I wasn't trying to be anything but me, but God had a better plan that day at that moment.  If we will just allow ourselves to be used, to stay positive, God can do wonders.  Sometimes, all it takes is something as simple as a smile.

 

 



The Unexpected Journey

Most journeys or trips are well planned and anticipated for months ahead of time.  Myself, I like to know that the lodging accommodations are booked and secured several months in advance.  I create spreadsheets of our packing lists as soon as it is official that we are vacation bound.  I develop projected budgets for the trip from food and gas to entertainment.  I don't want to find myself miles away from home and unprepared.  However, we can't always be fully prepared for every journey we set out on. 

This particular journey was an unexpected one.  At 31 years old, happily married for 12 years, and just finalized the adoption of our only child, I felt our life was on the "right" track.  Even though I had been experiencing some female issues for about 5 months, I still felt confidant that the stress of the adoption had played a major factor in my ongoing problems.  A month after completing the adoption of our son (Enman), I proceeded to my dreaded annual appointment.  With the usual level of anxiety and discomfort, I entered the doors of Dr. Z's office.  My first stop was to be ultrasound, where they would image my ovaries and uterus.  I have become quite familiar with this type test from the many I experienced during fertility treatments several years prior and the yearly testing as a result of my irregularities.  So, I kinda know what I'm looking at when I watch the shades of grey, black and white shift and change on the strategically placed screen above my head.  A concern entered in when I noticed a small white circle within a larger dark circle.  I knew something was not right, so I began to prepare myself for what may be bad news.  The second stop was The Exam.  During which, Dr. Z informed me of a polyp on my cervix.  OK, so that's what I saw... He showed very little concern for this abnormality, but proceeded to explain that I would need to have it removed as well as have a laparoscopy and hysteroscopy.  Never having any major surgery or treatment before, this unnerved me a bit.  Already feeling a bit uneasy, I mentioned the growing fibroid adenoma in my breast.  This really alarmed him and brought my anxiety to a whole new level.  From there I was sent for a mammogram and yet another ultrasound, but this time of my breast.  Wound as tight as I though I could be, I entered the mammography area for the very first time.  Not pleasant.  I was relieved to be through with that step and onto ultrasound...again.  There was obviously something there in my breast that had every person involved very concerned.

After feeling like I had been read my last rights, as I left the doctor's office in a daze, I debated on whether or not to inform my husband, Michael, of all I had been alarmed of.  I knew I had to, but wasn't sure how he would take it.  I mustered up the strength to call him and mention the "C" word that had been shot at me like an arrow.  By the grace of God, he remained calm.  If he hadn't, I don't know how I would have reacted.   From this point forward, the love and compassion Michael has shown towards me has been immeasurable.  We had to find a way to tell everyone of the pending surgery and biopsy.  Not one person was easy to tell, but again God allowed everyone to keep composure, so I didn't have to worry about falling apart.

The next week I received a call from my gynecologist, not his scheduling nurse, but the Dr. himself to notify me of my surgical consultation appointment scheduled the very next day.  Let me tell you, when the doctor calls you directly, you don't exactly get a warm and fuzzy feeling.  Don't get me wrong, Dr. Z has been wonderful and compassionate, but the situation was unnerving.  The next day I visit Dr. Wood's office for the first time, not sure what to expect.  He examines me to feel the lump  and reviews the mammogram images.  He asks for my family history of cancer.  Even though I don't fit the bill...young, no history of cancer on my mother's side...he mentions the "C" word and his concern.  I'm still holding onto what I've been told.  "I'm concerned it's cancer, but these tests aren't everything, we won't know for sure until we can biopsy it."  I schedule my outpatient surgery upon leaving Dr. Wood's office, for the very next week.  So once again, I have to find it within me to let my friends and family know of the now upcoming surgery.  Still not an easy task.

Before surgery, I believe I was most nervous about not being able to wake up from the anesthesia.  Little did I know that would be the least of my worries.  One day after surgery to have the lump removed, I found myself back in Dr. Wood's office to hear the results of the biopsy.  You know the saying "It's like ripping off a Band-Aid"?  Well, that's what this appointment felt like.  He didn't waste anytime with the results and when straight from "It is a type of cancer" to "here are your options".  You never know how you will react until you are there.  My husband held me close but I could feel the shudder of his body as the tears came.  I was in shock and stared blankly at Dr. Wood as he gave us the options and the corresponding advantages and disadvantages.  I tried to listen and soak in all the information, but the wave nausea and extreme heat that accompanies had already turned my muscles and mind into jello.  I had to stop him mid-sentence.  I had to have some kind of relief.  The comforting words from Dr. Wood "I understand this is hard" along with a gentle and knowing pat on the knee, the cool wet rag from the nurse, my husband lifting my hair gently off my neck, they all helped, but what would help tomorrow and the next day and the next?  How would this effect me physically?  How would this effect my emotionally?  How would this effect me spiritually?  How would this effect my relationship with Michael? How would this effect my job?  So, many questions and not enough answers.

As the weekend passed, and all of our friends, family, coworkers and church family were notified, we not only received the peace of which direction we should take, but I also felt at peace with the diagnosis.  Michael's peace came later on, but I knew that this trial would be used as a way to minister to someone, somewhere down the road.  That is why I am writing this very long blog.  I want to relate to someone going through the very same thing and let them know there can be peace.  God has never allowed us to face trials that he hasn't turned into a blessing in either our lives or the lives of someone we have encountered through his ministry.

Even though the decision was difficult, we chose to have a bilateral mastectomy with full reconstruction.  Tests run, diagnosis given, choice made...all with minimal tears.  I think I'm doing pretty good a this point.  I feel comforted by the compassion I have received from everyone, included Dr. Wood and his office and Dr. Z.  I don't feel overwhelmed with sympathy, but true compassion.  I feel confident to proceed onto the next phase.  Dr. Wood's nurse, Debbie, schedules my appointment with the plastic surgeon.  I feel good at how fast everything seems to be moving along.  Michael and I leave work early enough to eat lunch together before my appointment with the plastic surgeon, Dr. Oliver.  I enjoy our time together and feel at ease.  We head to my appointment and meander through the community of Liberty Park.  As we enter the doors of Dr. Oliver's office, I feel very out of place.  Sometimes when you're from a rural area and find yourself in the urban world, you feel like an alien in a strange land.  The short time I spent in Dr. Oliver's waiting room, I new I was different than his usual clientele.  My hope before meeting Dr. Oliver was that he would exhibit the same level of kindness, compassion and understanding that Dr. Wood had.  This was especially so since once the mastectomy was over, Dr. Wood would turn me over to Dr. Oliver for my follow-up appointments.  I had read Dr. Oliver's bio online before meeting him and felt very confident in his abilities.  So far, I had a very good feeling.  Let me just warn you...plastic surgeons are not like other doctors.  As he spouted off facts and figures, stats and research, I felt like I was sitting half naked in a classroom.  Where was the personable attitude?  Where was the compassion?  Where was the ability to look me in the eye and talk to me?  As we left from our consultation with the plastic surgeon, neither Michael or myself felt easy.  Up until this point we had seen eye to eye.  I tried to be the eternal optimist and rationalize Dr. Oliver's behavior.  Michael was not happy.  I decided to call Dr. Wood's office and express my concerns about Dr. Oliver, but found I couldn't put them into words.  All I could manage was, "He wasn't what I expected or was hoping for", then I lost it.  I lost it all the way home (Michael had gone back to work).  I lost it at home until Debbie (my mother-in-law) and Enman arrived.  Answering calls and texts I would just break down.  What I found was, I needed that breakdown.  I needed that release.  I believe God allowed me to have a trigger in Dr. Oliver so that I could have a release of emotions.  God knows what He's doing and I needed to cry.  Boy did I cry.

So I'm going to end this portion of the Unexpected Journey there.  I'm only 6 days out from the mastectomy, so I don't believe I have fully realized all of my emotions yet.  In a couple of days I will post more.  I hope this helps someone, somewhere.  Just put your faith in Christ, he'll see you through.  "For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope."  Romans 15:4.

"Faith, Hope, and Charity"

I have always had trouble understanding charity in the since it is used in 1 Corinthians 13, "the love chapter".  Used often at weddings replacing the word charity with love, this passage is almost as well known as John 3:16.  Do we really let the words in either of these passages sink in?

Recently my husband and I ventured where few care to go...to watch a "musical" on the big screen.  Unlike some, we enjoy musical motion pictures, and our viewing of Les Miserables was no different.  We had both seen and enjoyed a previous filming of Les Miserables starring Liam Neason, so we felt sure we would enjoy this one as well.  I know this is beginning to sound like a movie review, but that is not my intention.  After leaving the movie theater somewhat inspired by the character Jean Valjean, I decided to attempt to read Les Miserables.  Even though this classic was on my high school reading list, I had never even turned the cover on the book.  I figured at 31 I might have a new found appreciation for the classics.  So, as I began reading I wondered if I was reading the right book.  All I was seeing was the descriptive background of the bishop, who I assumed was the kind heart that offered food and shelter to Jean Valjean.  After being touched by this bishop's humbleness, the main character of the movie, Jean Valjean., appeared.  I must say, the book depicts the humbleness and love (charity) the bishop showed so much better than can be expressed on screen.  It was during this moment in the book when just after being told of a dangerous criminal about town, the bishop invites a stranger into his dwelling.  Jean Valjean reports his entire life story in a matter of moments, seeming to almost want the bishop to turn him away.  The bishop offers not judgement of the man, and instead treats him as if he was a relative wearied from travel come to visit a while.  The bishop offers the best to Jean Valjean, not just enough to say he helped.  In that few pages, I understood Charity. 

I have oftentimes wondered how charity and love could be considered synonymous with one another.  My understanding of charity was giving to those less fortunate, but what exactly did that mean?  Christmas presents for a child in need, love offering for a family fallen on hard times, or a couple of bucks to the guy who found enough courage to ask a stranger for a little gas money?  No, none of that is charity.  Those instances only make the giver feel better about themselves, and only offer temporary aid to the receiver.  True charity is giving your all and best to help a fellow.  Giving a help that will not only cure the momentary need, but also plant the seed to grow and cultivate a lifetime of guidance.  This type charity is utterly and completely of Christ.  This type charity is Christ, what He stood for.  Why it has taken me 19 years after my salvation to understand this, I don't know.  I guess that goes to show you that you are continually growing in Christ, always learning His truths.

I share this in hopes that we all can make a conscience effort to explore charity and not exploit it for our own well being.

"God is Great, God is Good..."  This is the way each blessing begins in our household.  It's so simple, yet so true.

Last night as I set our plate on the dining room table and fastened our 2 year old into his booster seat, I was reminded just how great God really is.  "Daddy tum eat, say bwessing" word the words spoken by our precious gift from God.  His innocence and zeal are traits all too forgotten by us adults who drudge through life most times oblivious of the creation around us.  If we could only stop and see through the eyes of a child, how much more would we enjoy life.  Each simple task and encounter would be somewhat more treasureable. 

Just a thought to kick-off my very first blog.