Tag: mastectomy

Living with the Wind Knocked Out of Me: Part 9~ Recovering

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First of all, I want to say thank you to all who have read this blog journey. Secondly, I did not intend to write and publish my thoughts to attract attention or to seek sympathy, however I have been overwhelmed by the support you have shown to me through your comments and face to face interactions. My purpose in writing publicly was to process my thoughts, to safeguard my memories of this experience, and to encourage others who may have had or will have a similar experience.

Today marks the beginning of the 6th week since my bilateral mastectomy surgery.

You have joy even though you may have had to suffer for a little while. You may have had to suffer sadness in all kinds of trouble. Your troubles have come in order to prove that your faith is real. Your faith is worth more than gold. `~1 Peter 1:6-7

When I came home from the hospital, we all were surprised how incredibly TIRED I was! To be honest, I do not remember too much until about 3 days later- which is just crazy!

That nerve blocker worked like a dream so I was able to maintain a decent comfort level with the pain medication recommended. Dan proved himself to be a wonderful nurse and kept a close eye on when it was time for me to have my next dose for pain control and my antibiotics. He made sure I always had something to drink close by, that I was safe with simple ambulation to the bathroom, and that I woke up to eat something every now and again.

Essentially, this was Home Base for the first week or so.

I had four drains coming out of my sides under each armpit (2 on each side). Those needed to be drained and measured twice a day and my husband proved to not be squeamish at all! I was very impressed with his tender loving care!!

Side note: those drains HURT.

Pain medication does not eliminate the discomfort that comes from pushing on the sore spot. When a person is still, the discomfort is less. With movement, however, a person feels all of it. It’s just the way it goes with incisions and drains: we’re going to feel pain. We still have to move around, as sitting in one place is not a viable option either for recovery.

We’re going to feel the pain. I’m going to feel the pain.

As a nurse, I have been known to say that “surgical pain heals.” Well, I’m banking on that one, folks… It sure better.

At the 1 week “surgery anniversary”, Dan and I ventured out for a car ride to visit our surgeon. This was the first time I could really talk to her while not under the influence of anesthesia as well as get the official pathology results from my breast tissue that was removed.

While there we received good news and surprising news.

The good news: all the cancer was removed with good, clean/clear margins. There were 2 tumors found in the left breast that were both Invasive Ductal Carcinoma HER+. The lymph nodes removed showed no signs of cancer.

PRAISE THE LORD!

The surprising news? There was another tumor found in the right breast that also came back HER+ but called NON-invasive Ductal Carcinoma.

A second cancer in the other breast.

I looked that surgeon in the eye and said, “I MADE THE RIGHT CHOICE FOR THE BILATERAL MASTECTOMY. I KNEW I NEEDED TO HAVE ONE. I JUST KNEW IT!”

Then I promptly burst into tears!

Her response was an emphatic, “yes, you did.” She was genuinely shocked by the pathology as this was not expected at all.

All that worrying and wondering about what kind of surgery to have… wondering if I was being “dramatic” for going so “over the top” in my treatment choice… I WAS RIGHT.

Praise God for the guidance that helped me make the right decision for me.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Don’t lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths ~Proverbs 3:5-6

Two shell-shocked people people left the office that day.

The next day we had a different appointment with the plastic surgeon so we could now begin the process of “filling.”

This is a sample replica of the “fun” little gadget that was put into me. It is called a “spacer” and its design is to be filled up like a balloon weekly so my skin can slowly stretch around it in preparation for the permanent implant to be surgically placed in a few months time.

The “filling” itself is not painful (I’ll spare you the details), but the stretching…. Oh my goodness gracious. That’s a whole other thing.

Yikes. It hurts.

When it stops hurting…guess what? It’s time for another fill!

We do this until I say we are done. That means when I’m at the “size” I want to be from now on.

And the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will Himself restore you and make you strong, firm, and steadfast ~1 Peter 5:10

Washing My Hair Day became the highlight of my week in those early days. It is certainly not a flattering picture, but it’s as real as it gets folks…I was not allowed to do much with my arms – especially repetitive motion activities – because it would cause fluid to build up in my surgical area. That means “scrubbing my head” myself was out. The other component is that it hurt to lift my arms, let alone to hold them up over my head, so this was just not an activity I could do by myself.

Thankfully, as you can tell from the picture, my family enjoyed helping.

I was not allowed to shower as long as those darn drains were in… they stayed in for 4 weeks. 4 weeks of no showering or immersion bathing. 4 weeks. Now, it is one thing to have help washing my hair and emptying my drains…but it is a whole other thing to require assistance with bathing.

I am an RN. I am the person who helps others. I have bathed many hundreds of people over my years as a bedside nurse. I know it is not a big deal. I know it is something that just needs to be done.

It’s not a big deal until you are the one who needs help with that particular activity of daily living.

Dan and I met when I was 21 to his 22 years of age. We got married when I was 23 and he was 24.

We bought our home when I was 25 and he was 26 years old. Our Troy was born when I was 27 and Nic came into this world when I was 30 years old.

We celebrated our 25th Wedding Anniversary this past Labor Day when we visited Troy in the PNW.

We have been to the pits in our marriage and have been restored to something far better with the help of Jesus Christ. We are committed to the vows we spoke on that beautiful day 25+ years ago. We are committed to each other. We are committed to our family. We are committed to the Lord.

But…this has been hard.

Not on our marriage, per se… just hard.

“In sickness and in health…until death do us part” are real words all the sudden. They mean something now. In “sickness” means more than sitting by a bedside while others provide the care. It means that YOU provide the care. YOU protect the person you are committed to. YOU advocate for that person.

YOU wash their back when they can’t.

YOU cry quietly behind them while they cry openly on the stool when sitting in front of you while you run the soapy rag over their back.

And when they cry while alone with you in the bedroom at night, you cry with them too.

That’s marriage.

It’s as humbling as it is beautiful.

The day those drains came out meant I could finally shower! It meant I was also one step closer to finally sleeping on my side and that it would not hurt as bad anymore when I lifted my arms up over my head or was hugged by those who love me.

Thanks to a friend we had our first shower chair in the house! I have never felt so good as I did when that hot water ran over me that wonderful day! I turned on Spotify as I climbed into the shower and the song that came on was “I’m still counting my blessings”. To listen to music that declared the thankfulness I was feeling from such a simple pleasure brought me to tears.

Building my endurance came next. I slowly began to walk 1 lap around the block and then 2…and then 3. I still could not do much with my arms though so these were not high cardio laps!

Going to the grocery store (with a companion) became the place where I realized I could measure my progress. After the first time we went, I was so exhausted I needed to take a nap. It progressed to needing to only sit down while Dan did the check out part (but that was after we had already been at a different store first).

I also started driving by myself.

I finally went back to church… and to restaurants… even to a show to see Hamilton!

We’ve had many visitors over these weeks to help lift my spirits. We’ve received many cards, calls, and texts too. People have been incredibly generous with gifts and meals as well.

I’ve had a silly goal that I want to carry my purse again.

My purse choice has always been to be a large one and I was specifically told it was too heavy for me to carry. Initially, I had a 3lb weight limit that very slowly increased to 10 lbs. I’ve never weighed my purse, but the running joke is that is weighs more than my dog weighs (a 16lb shiatzu). All that means is carrying my purse is just not gonna happen.

I’m known for my big bags. I LIKE my big bags. It’s one of those crazy “identity” things.

I’ll know I’m better when I’m carrying it again.

Well…here we are on the 1st day of week 6 and I’m carrying that purse around now!

Silly goals work, I guess!

My body is healing. I’m preparing to return to work as an RN and as a pastor. I’m thinking ahead. I’m eating healthy. I’m wanting to make plans for the future. My emotions are a work in progress and something to write about on a different day.

But.

All in all, I’m recovering.

Living with the Wind Knocked Out of Me: Part 7~ Receiving

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See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called the children of God (1 John 3:1)!

Here we are at the end of the first part of this cancer journey. In a few short days, after all the stress, worry, anxiety, sleepless nights, I will be having my surgery to rid this body of mine from cancer.

My incision from the Crohn’s abscess has healed nicely and I have even told my husband that I think my situation with the fistula may have even changed for the better finally! After having been so worried about that infection being an issue for this upcoming surgery, I can now see that what happened is what needed to happen when it happened for the best possible overall outcome to occur.

How crazy is that??? What looked like a horrible situation turned into… dare I even say it… a blessing.

A very wise friend often reminds me to use extreme caution when labeling a situation as either good or bad as we do not see the whole picture at the time of labeling. What may seem “good” could, in fact, have a poor outcome and what seemed “bad” may ultimately be what is best for us.

That being said, this cancer diagnosis has seemed to be very bad. I am guilty of having been quick to label it as such. Who could say cancer is good???

Give thanks IN all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus ~1 Thessalonians 5:18

What IF there were things that are good in what seems to be so bad that what seemed bad becomes good?

Could you follow that thought? Let’s say it again…

What IF there were things that are good in what seems to be so bad that what seemed bad becomes good?

How about, when we see those good things in the bad stuff, we give thanks? Maybe that is when the tide suddenly changes…

What if…

I’ve been a caregiver for all of my life. At a young age I remember being babysat by a young mom who had a newborn. I know I was under the age of 2nd grade at that time and I was changing his diapers for her because I loved to help care for him. I remember getting her water so she could drink it while she was breast feeding him (discreetly).

I began babysitting officially by the 6th grade. I volunteered in the church nursery as often as I could. I volunteered in the elementary school’s after school child care program (Latch Key Kids) so often they finally started to pay me real money instead of volunteer hours.

My grandparents became ill when I was in junior high school and required assistance in their home with simple tasks. By the time I was in high school, I was proficient in skills that would qualify me for a position as a Certified Nurse’s Assistant.

I entered Bronson School of Nursing fresh out of high school and became an RN by the time I was 20 years old.

In my almost 50 years of living, I have become quite skilled at seeing who needs help and have learned how to meet that need with ease. It is as natural to me to do it as it is for me to breathe.

I have become very adept at being a giver.

I have been told that givers make terrible receivers.

I’m not one who likes to be told I’m terrible at anything, so that does not settle well with me. However… I think it is true. Letting people do things for me or give me things is not easy.

I like the passage that says “do for others as you would have them do for you” but I do not particularly desire that to be tested. I’ll just keep doing -thank you very much- and hope it would be reciprocated while not necessarily expecting it to be.

So I give. And give. And give.

I’ll make a meal. Change my schedule to suit others. Show up. Donate. Whatever.

Don’t you? I don’t think I’m too unusual in my choices…We do what we need to do when it needs to be done, right?

I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ll bring it up again because I think it is a significant point. This past summer I felt like I was breaking. I felt lost and unfocused. I knew what I wanted to do but could not drum up the energy to do it. I felt drained. That made me feel insecure. Repeat cycle.

I felt the Lord nudging me to spend time with Him- alone time; quality time. I made the choice to carve out space for a spiritual retreat while on vacation for our 25th Wedding Anniversary to visit our Navy son stationed on Whidbey Island, Washington.

That choice unraveled the tangled ball of emotions built up inside me with the undercurrent theme running through each thread saying, “NOURISHMENT is found HERE.”

I left that trip with the realization that the cure for my restlessness and lack of focus, my emptiness and emotional fatigue, was to keep spending time alone with the Lord. To keep carving out space that looked different than my daily routine of Bible reading with devotionals.

The next opportunity revealed to me that I am KNOWN by God, I am SEEN by God, and that I am FIERCELY LOVED by God.

The next opportunity of nourishment revealed to me that I have cancer… I had felt the lump.

Whoah…wait…what??

Not exactly the pattern I was looking for or expecting in my set aside time with the Lord.

BUT… in that revelation I was also validated that I was still SEEN, KNOWN, and LOVED through the giving of the scripture passage found in Isaiah 43:1-4 that I’ve quoted many times in this series.

Just because I don’t like the circumstance does not mean I am not seen, known, or loved. Instead, truly believing and accepting those things as truths has become what has sustained me through these days up until my surgery.

What God did next was to choose to show me how loved I really am and He used His people, His creation, to make His point.

Would I receive what He had to give, though?

That has not been easy: givers are terrible receivers.

What is it about receiving a gift that is so darn hard?? Why is it awkward? Why does it feel like there is an expectation attached to the giving that I must measure up to?? Why do I feel like I need to do something in return: that I now need to GIVE BECAUSE I HAVE RECEIVED?

Somewhere along the line relationships have become transactional for me. You know how it goes: you do something for me and I’ll do something for you. You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.

Nothing is done without a catch. Without an expectation. Without an ulterior motive waiting in the wings.

But that is not what our God does.

He made us in His image because He wanted to.

He paved a way for unperfect us to be in a right relationship with perfect Him because He wanted to.

Jesus took the flogging, wore the crown of thorns, carried His cross, laid down on it and held His hands steady as the nails pounded into His wrists, and then gave up His spirit for us because He wanted to.

For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16)

It was not transactional. It was covenantal.

God’s plan. God’s idea. God’s way. God’s choice.

OUR BENEFIT.

What do we do then?

BELIEVE IN HIM and RECEIVE HIS GIFT OF LIFE.

Then why do I still feel like I am unworthy? Not good enough? Need to do more??? That I owe God something?

For whatever reason, God has determined to show me His love and His desire for me to let Him lavish it upon me. To receive it.

Over and over in these weeks, I have shared the different ways God has provided for me. I have been humbled by the outpouring of love shown to me in these days. I have come to believe that all of us, whether we want to accept it or not, are the hands and feet of Jesus in this world and your acts of kindness displayed have come through the extension of His arms and legs.

1 John 4:19 ~ “We love because He first loved us.”

Nothing we do out of love comes from another source but the source of life. Nothing. After all, EVERY good and perfect gift comes from our Father in heaven (James 1:17).

Every good deed.

Every kind word.

Every flower purchased or card sent.

Every text and phone call.

Every random person I have ran into that has either blessed or encouraged me.

Every divine encounter with a physician or clinician.

I have tried to down play the experiences, but it is not working. I have tried to explain away why someone may say or do something nice to me. I have tried to convince myself that coincidental encounters are just that: coincidence. I have tried to interpret the timing of events as not that big of a deal. I have tried to minimize the effect kindness has had on me.

I have wondered, “what have I done to deserve these good things” instead of “why do I have cancer?”

I have wondered, “who am I to be blessed in these ways” instead of shaking my fists to the heavens in anger that I have cancer.

I have sat back, humbled, as I receive what is being offered to me because I am loved.

This last week has been one outpouring expression of love after another: my work co-workers have no idea what they have done for my heart and attitude. My friends have come out of the woodwork to spend time with me, to say the most incredible words of encouragement to me, to comfort me. Acquaintances or people from my past have stepped to the forefront with memories to share and words of wisdom and support to offer.

I sit back and ask, “why all this? Who am I? What have I done to deserve this kindness and love?”

The answer comes from within my spirit: “Nothing. You’ve done nothing but be who I created you to be and that is more than enough. It has always been enough and it will always be enough. It is not in what you DO, it is in who your ARE: MY beloved child.”

It’s humbling. It’s hard to receive when my knee-jerk reaction is to reject it, minimize, or boom-a-rang gift it back.

But again and again, the Lord keeps impressing on me to receive it. Receive this gift. Receive this love. It is Mine to give and it is yours to receive.

When was the last time you received a compliment and just took it? You didn’t give one back or make an explanation about it? When was the last time you felt good enough to receive it? Worthy?

Here is the thing. YOU ARE.

Maybe, just maybe, this “bad” experience I’ve been writing about has been “good” all along. Maybe it has been good because it has shown how far God will go so His children know how loved they are.

Like I said, I’m so distracted by all the kindness shown to me that I’m more baffled over that than I am about why I have cancer. What matters, suddenly, isn’t that I have cancer but that I am loved.

I cannot feel anger over my situation because I am too overwhelmed by the goodness being extended to me.

I cannot feel fear because perfect love drives out all fear (1 John 4:18).

I’m so busy thanking God for all the random things He’s been doing that my anxiety has disappeared.

I’m so absorbed by the amazing things being done around me that I’m wrapped up in a peace that makes no sense.

I’m so enthralled by the events of the present -a present that consists of me having cancer- that I am becoming excited for the possibilities to come in the future.

Maybe me writing this is so someone can see where God is working for good in their “bad” situation too.

So this cancer is supposed to be bad, right? Then why do I feel so good?

As I close the page on this chapter of my life, I can honestly say I have been changed by this experience of breast cancer. I am different for the fear of it, the worry in it, and the hope through it.

In a few days I will no longer have breast cancer -PRAISE GOD- but I will be recovering physically from my surgery as well as emotionally from the process that led me to my decision of a double mastectomy. This next chapter will be interesting, to say the least.

However, today I can honestly say I am thankful for all of this It makes no sense, but that is what my heart is feeling right now; thankfulness.

The Scripture says that the Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those crushed in spirit…I guess thankfulness is the result of that closeness.

Living with the Wind Knocked Out of Me: Part 6~ Trust

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I was getting a latte today when a man approached me. His excitement was radiating off of him:  he had news he needed to share even though it meant sharing with a complete stranger.

He found a good deal on a new truck and even showed me a picture of it as I waited in line to place my order.

As he talked about the truck, he said he was in disbelief over the wonder of it all and the timing of finding it:

he told me that he had been at a Bible study the night before. While there, he  was prayed over regarding his need for a new vehicle.

He found the truck this morning; the very next day.

What really surprised him was the color of the truck: it was a mocha brown, I guess. He told me his last car, a Chevy Malibu, had been the same color when it was “taken” from him, and here is our Lord replacing his vehicle with one of the same color.

I couldn’t help but comment to him on how pretty I thought the truck was, affirmed that a Chevy Silvarado is a great truck, and that our God sure is good.

We serve a King who pays attention to the small details of life.

But now, THIS is what the Lord says- He who created you, He who formed you:

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name and YOU ARE MINE.

WHEN you pass through the waters, I will be with you.

WHEN you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.

WHEN you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the Lord your God…”

                           Isaiah 43:1-3

How often do I boldy give praise for what the Lord has done as that man in the coffee shop did?

Psalm 89:1

I will sing of the goodness and lovingkindness of the Lord forever! With my mouth, I will make known Your faithfulness from generation to generation.

The truth is this: probably not often enough.  It’s so easy to see what is wrong or what feels bad or what is scary or hurtful. Those negative emotions all too often shade the beautiful colors still  represented in this life that we continue to live each and every day.

I was told recently that when we find ourselves walking in the valley of the shadow of death, we forget that it is only a shadow.

That means the sun is still shining: we need light to make a shadow.

Are we seeking that  source of light??? Or keeping our focus on the valley? On the shadow?

Through this journey of breast cancer, I have mentioned my concerns regarding my underlying diagnosis of Crohn’s Disease.

It’s time to talk about that. If you thought I was getting personal before…. this factor takes me to a whole other level of intimacy and is not one I find easy to share.

In 2018, the disease I knew and had been treated for since I was the age of 14 changed. Most likely, from all the years of inflammation in my colon, a fistula developed that caused an abscess.

I’ll spare the details but will say it was incredibly painful and I became very ill. A brand new course of treatment was suddenly required: an IV infusion that would suppress my immune system (on purpose) in order to stop my auto-immune system from going into overdrive.

Basically, I can’t heal if my auto-immune system is fighting my immune system all the time. It’s a rather ironic situation: make me immuno-suppressed so I don’t get sick, but being immuno-suppressed can make me susceptible to illness more easily.

Talk about living in tension.

The treatment has been very effective for my Crohn’s management.  The colon inflammation went away, and my GI system is in the best shape I’ve ever known I could experience, but I still have the fistula. 

Apparently, that’s a little bugger to heal.

On New Years Eve 2024, I had an MRI just to see what that fistula has been up to since 2018.

I had no real issues going on, so it was fairly “random” that my trusted GI PA  wanted to look under rocks for me. As he said, “Amy, you are getting by- and that’s OK. But  I want you to thrive.”

May we all be blessed with a medical team that desires us to THRIVE.

Per the MRI, much to his surprise (and mine as well), there was another abscess present. I had zero discomfort or awareness it was there, so the decision was made for me to go on a HUGE antibiotic dose for 3 weeks.

I was terrified because I’ve experienced what antibiotics can do to an immuno-suppressed system: it can completely wipe out all the good, natural flora which could cause my system to be susceptible to a different bacteria. 

It’s not a fun thing to go through.

I trusted my medical team and took a deep breath: we went for it.

My life is in the Lord’s hands, I thought to myself. I believed this was found though His grace and timing. I chose to trust that God would carry me through whatever was going to happen next.

I was finishing those antibiotics (without one single issue of concern to speak of!!) when I was diagnosed with the breast cancer.

That’s why Crohn’s was on the forefront of my mind at the time of the diagnosis. You see,  I call my Crohn’s The Dragon. She often sleeps… but when she wakes up, LOOK OUT! I believed she was resting, but not sound asleep so I don’t want to wake her.

We must tread lightly.

As my previous posts have shared, I’m under some stress. I’m feeling the strain of this diagnosis. I’m feeling the weight of the uncertainties. My emotions are all over the board. My anxiety ambushes me. Depression washes over me.

That Scripture from Isaiah rings LOUD. The rivers are flowing hard  and deep with a fast current. The fire is H-O-T.

Trying to remember what the Lord promised me and not be afraid feels like a losing battle.

I was settling into the idea that my surgical date had been set for April 16…over a month away. I was looking for the positives in the timeline that had been set for me and leaned into them.

My friend told me I had been given a gift of time to optimize my health. He reminded me that I had over 4 weeks to get my body “ready” to have and recover from a big surgery.

Taking his advice, I turned to yoga for stretching and strengthening while increasing my protein intake.

I decided to be productive in the waiting.

On March 6, I noticed that I was more tired than usual after work, but I wasn’t too concerned about it. I wasn’t going to analyze it. So,  I took a nap after work and determined to still do my exercises. 

As I shifted into the sit- stretch positions of yoga, I noticed a discomfort that had not been there the day before. I tried to convince myself, “This is normal,” and that “I’m ok, don’t worry.”

I opted not to speak a word to Dan about it.  I determined it was all in my head. I convinced myself (but not really) that a discomfort when sitting is “totally normal.”

FYI: That is what most auto-immune patients are convinced of. We believe what we feel is all in our heads. It is not real. Somewhere, along the line, we must have been told this, and that is why our diseases run rampant: we don’t speak up for fear of judgment.

The next morning, I did not want to get out of bed. If I did, I would have to determine whether what I suspected was going was real or not. My instinct told me, though, that the previously discovered and somewhat treated abscess had surfaced. 

The longer I lingered, the longer I could stay in denial.

I do not want to deal with my Crohn’s right now. I don’t want to face a return of life with an abscess. Don’t I have enough going on, Lord?? This doesn’t seem fair.

Then the doubts surfaced quickly: What if they don’t believe me when I call my medical team? What if I’m wrong and sound the alarm for no reason? What if I’m what I’m afraid of being: dramatic???

That’s when the phone rang. Answering it, I find that it is my breast surgeon’s office. They have had a cancelation.  Would I want to move my surgery date up to that coming Wednesday?  In 5 days.

Are you kidding me?!

The absolute absurdity that I am being offered the chance to have this flipping cancer that haunts my dreams and stunts my reality cut out of me sooner has been laid on the table before me….and I think I have a Crohn’s fistula abscess.

Are you kidding me.

The woman calling did not ask me if I was healthy or having any medical problems. I had told NO ONE that this was even happening. 

No one knew.

No one asked.

No one had to know?

But I knew.  And I knew this could be bad if I ignored it. I knew the surgery recovery could have complications if I had an active infection but did not disclose it.

Are you kidding me.

I needed time to think. 

I couldn’t breathe all of a sudden because I knew what I had to do, and that was to choose to keep the cancer so I could deal with The Dragon.

How do I say that out loud??

I want this cancer gone!! Every single minute it sits inside me feels like it is taking time off my life. I feel it burning inside of me. It aches.  Is it growing? Is it spreading?  Is it reaching my lymph nodes???

I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what I needed to do: take a deep breath and trust in the Lord.

Dear God,

The waters are rising!! I can’t catch my breath! You said they would not overwhelm me, but I’m scared and can’t breathe. You said the fire wouldn’t scorch me, but it is hot. It is so hot it hurts. Help me, help me, help me do what I know is right.  Help me not respond in fear and make a choice that will harm me. Help me to say “no.”

I told the breast surgeon’s office “no” and immediately called my colo-rectal surgeon. He ordered me antibiotics (again) and an appointment was made to see him in 6 days.

Instead of breast surgery in 5 days, I would see a colo- rectal surgeon in 6. Talk about a few degrees south from where I wished we would be addressing.

The discouragement I felt is hard to describe.  Maybe the best way is to envision that valley of the shadow of death.

The shadow was dark and heavy. The tears were hot and many.

A new fear surfaced: Could this impact that?? Is there enough time to get my infection under control before Aril 16?

Back to the land of the unknown.

I made it through the week with the antibiotics doing their good work, but now my anxiety feared the abscess would go dormant while appearing to be absolved because it had slithered back under the surface.

What would my colo- rectal surgeon say if I’m no longer having discomfort?  Would that be a good thing?  Or would it surface again right before April 16 to cause a major delay???

By the time I arrived to his office, I had myself nicely all worked up. The tears started in the car before entering the building. The hyperventilating came when the MA asked her pre-appointment questions.

My poor doctor. I feel bad for him and what he walked into when he came into the room as I was barely holding it together. 

After an up-close-and -personal exam (done professionally and with a chaperone present), he asked what I was doing the next day. I told him I was supposed to work. He said ,”Not anymore. I’ve had a  cancelation.  We’re going to take care of this tomorrow at noon in the operating room.”

Now HE has a cancelation? 

One space opened for me, and  I have to say no to it and now one I have to to say yes to.

This “yes” hurts. I felt like I had stepped back in time to 2018 when all this started… all the trauma that experience caused surfaced.  All the fear from this disease that will not release me from its talons exploded in my chest.

I asked him, “What is happening?  Why?? We treated this with antibiotics for 3 weeks and now it surfaces??? It makes no sense.”

I sat there and cried as he looked at me. He sighed heavily as he sat there.

Then he said,  “It’s this. All this” as he made a motion over me to indicate my emotions.  He said, “This is stress.”

Great. 

Stress. A stress I can not escape from.

Am I NOT coping well? Is there a way to do better?  To be better at this?

If those aren’t the words I’ve asked myself my whole life…

As if to say, “What’s wrong with me? Tell me and I’ll fix it.”

Well, I can’t.

I’ve never had cancer before, so I don’t know how to do this any differently than how I am.

Maybe that’s why I’m writing all this. I don’t know.  I fear some may think it is for attention.  I fear what I’m going through may not matter. But  I’ve got so much whirling around in my head that I don’t know what to do with it, so I write.

My insecurities say, “What you have to say doesn’t matter. Why blog it when a journal is more than adequate? “

I want to praise Him in the storm.

I want to bless His name on this road marked with suffering, though there is pain in the offering.

I want accountability that I am living what I teach and what I preach through how I live.

Psalm 71:17-18

Since my youth, God, you have taught me, and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds. Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, my God, till I declare your power to the next generation, Your mighty acts to all who are to come.

Dan and I head to the hospital the next day to have the abscess surgically drained.

As a side note, it is important to understand that I work at this hospital and know a lot of people in the OR. A lot.  This particular procedure is personal and intimate and embarrassing for me, so to have people I know involved is difficult. I manage these encounters as best as I can, but it is with great difficulty.

Strangely enough, I was calm this time. I was not crying. I had submitted to what was happening and my lack of control in it or around it. What would happen from this point on was not up to me.

I chose to trust the Lord with all of it and felt His peace as it came over me. 

The Lord blessed me that day with a gift of anonymity. Other than my surgeon, I did not know any of the others who participated in my care that day. Not one other person. Not one.

I am amazed by His grace that continues to cover me through chance encounters with my medical team, specific awareness of my own body from past experiences, cancelations to make room for me, and now respite from the extra kindness that would have been shown to me because they were my peers.

All I had to be that day was the patient, and it was marvelous.

When my surgeon talked to my husband afterward,  he said he had “run into” my plastic surgeon at the completion of my case. He was given a divine opportunity to hand my concerns of this situation compicating that surgery over to the next surgeon to be involved.

How amazing is that?

That is called GRACE

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound…

How amazing is it to know we serve a King who pays attention to the small details of life?

The aftermath of that surgery did leave me as an emotional wreck- I can’t lie about that.  Knowing the goodness of God doesn’t eliminate how badly I dislike my situation. 

I went into hiding for a few days for my emotions to recover as my body healed.

I met with the PA from the plastic surgeon’s office next for my official pre-op appointment.  While there, she verbalized significant concern over me receiving my next scheduled infusion for my Crohn’s since it was so close to my surgical date.

As I said, my medication keeps my immune system suppressed, so healing is difficult. I kind of need to be able to heal from this double mastectomy and reconstruction surgery.

The surgeons have legit concerns.

So do I.

The mere thought of not taking my medication that keeps The Dragon somewhat tame is horrifying to me. What would happen to my auto-immune system if we allow my immune system to wake up when this abscess has already created a little stir while taking it??

This decision is out of my control.

Here is the thing: do I trust the Lord with all of my health or do I trust the medication?

Do I trust the Lord with all of my life or just the bits I turn over to Him?

I have taken wobbly steps of faith in my trust walk with Him this far….He has not failed me, left me alone, or left me without solutions and options. He has shown me the well in the wilderness.

He has told me that He has redeemed me. He has called me by name. He has said, “you are Mine.“

Submit and accept. This is what I am called to do. Do not worry and fret, but submit and accept. Do not complain, but praise.

My dear friend gave me a card with some great advice on it~

So I did.

I accepted that I may go without my Crohn’s treatment for 3 months.  Whatever happened from doing that, we would deal with. I have a good team surrounding me. I am in good hands.

The Lord is my Great Physician. 

The surgeon’s office called with the verdict: they decided it was for the best that I stay on my treatment plan!!

The PRAISE THE LORD escaped my mouth as I stood in a procedure  room full of doctors, nurse, and anesthesia staff while on the phone!

Psalm 27:13

I remain confident of this; I will see the goodness of the Lord while I am here in the land of the living.

The relief was palpable. My response to the relief was physical as tears escaped my eyes unashamedly. 

The course has been set. The Captain is at the helm. The crew have been readied. Prepare the sails because we are steering toward this mastectomy now.

Living With the Wind Knocked Out of Me: Part 3~The Choice

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The wilderness themes in the Bible seem to call out to me lately, especially those where people have been “led” or “sent”.

The story of Hagar stands out in many ways.

It is in Genesis 16 where we first meet her: she becomes an unwilling participant in the plan for Sarai and Abram to fulfill for themselves the destiny God had prophesied to them about: that their descendants would outnumber the sand on the seashore. This is a tricky thing when they did not have even one piece of sand to call their own, let alone numbers to fill a beach front.

Hagar did not have a say whether she wanted to play a role in their meddling. She had no choice as she was a voiceless female servant.

She became pregnant with Abram’s first born child, but ran away due to the toxic relationship that had formed thanks to this “love” triangle that never should have been. It was there in the wilderness that she was approached by God with words of comfort and where she named Him: El Roi – The God Who Sees Me.

Later, after Isaac had been born to Sarah and Abraham when Hagar’s son Ishmael was 14 years old, Sarah decided she wanted Hagar and Ishmael to leave their homestead forever.

Early the next morning Abraham took some food and a skin of water and gave them to Hagar. He set them on her shoulders and then sent her off with the boy. She went on her way and wandered in the Desert of Beersheba.

Genesis 21:14

Once again in the wilderness, God approached this woman whose life was not of her own choosing. He tells her not to be afraid, He comforts her and tells her to give comfort to her child, and He refreshes her with water from a well she had not previously seen.

This past fall I was invited to attend a retreat for women pastors. The invitation to attend came within moments of my response to the Lord calling me to NOURISH my relationship with Him.

The definition of the word “nourish” is to be provided with the food or other substances necessary for growth, health, and good condition.

After a long season of grief I found myself lacking what was necessary for any of those things. What I felt instead was stagnant… unfocused…anxious…unmotivated…

I felt all this physically but realized it was stemming from inside my emotional self and had carried over into my spiritual self.

Choosing to spend time alone with the Lord revealed the need for spiritual nourishment. That was when the email came inviting me to a “retreat.” Talk about divine timing!

The theme -shockingly enough- was “KNOWN” and the emphasis was on God the El Roi: the One Who Sees Me.

At this retreat, I had a personal encounter with El Roi and had the confirmation placed on my heart by Him that I am loved by Him. Fiercely loved. The healing that came through that revelation provided what I had been malnourished of: what is necessary for growth, health, and good condition.

A reset button had been pushed and I was being restored.

I came home from that retreat more at peace with myself than I knew I had needed to be. I felt focused and driven to again pursue the desires that the Lord had put on my heart when He called me to be a pastor: one who shares the Good News.

So imagine the irony I feel now.

I am called to preach the Gospel. I WANT to preach it. I have opportunities to be able to do so once again. I have the time. Life seems to be falling into place.

Except.

I have cancer.

The first time I went into the wilderness where I felt malnourished, I think was kind of similar to Hagar; it was my choice to go due to the circumstances. I may not have known consciously that was what I was doing in my grief but it was in the wilderness where I ended up just the same.

And God saw me there. El Roi. I am loved.

And now? I feel like a bag has been put on my back and I am being sent from the comfort I have known, the plans I had made. I am to go somewhere unknown, uncertain, uncomfortable, scary.

And yet I am still seen. I am still loved.

The diagnosis has been confirmed: Stage 1 Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. The appointment has been set up with the team of physicians that will help me with the necessary decisions that need to be made for treatment.

We tell my parents what is going on.

We tell our children what is going on.

We tell my brother what is going on.

We tell our closest friends what is going on.

We try to breathe.

It isn’t easy to tell those you love that you have breast cancer. But do you know what makes it worse? Once they know, life goes on. People go back to work or to school. Meals need to be made. Other people we love are going through really really excruciatingly hard things at the exact same time as this and beautiful babies are being born as well.

So here I am walking around with cancer inside of me and if I did not tell you, you would never even know. It’s not like I look any different.

But everything feels different.

I cannot express how surreal that feels. How ominous.

One minute I’m pulling laundry out of the dryer and the next moment it is like I have been punched in the gut with the thought, “Oh my gosh I have cancer” sweeping over me.

Telling people makes it more real.

But I do not want it to be real.

The “big” doctor appointment introduces us to a radiation oncologist, a breast surgeon, and a medical oncologist. They all assess me individually and look over my biopsy report. Later, they meet together with the pathologist who confirms my diagnostic findings. We meet with the breast surgeon a second time for the conclusion of our day.

I am supposed to make a decision at this point regarding the treatment that I want to have based on the options presented to me. I had no idea there would be OPTIONS.

Supposedly, we make around 35,000 conscious decisions in one day: what we will eat, wear, say, etc…

35,000.

I was given about 5-6 options to choose between at the conclusion of this appointment. It felt like 4-5 too many.

I must say this though: I am incredibly grateful for the women who have gone before me that had to FIGHT for the right to even have these choices.

It is hard to believe there was a time where a woman did not have the voice or the choice to say what happened to her body once breast cancer was detected.

I have to live with this body for the rest of my life so I am thankful to be able to have a say in HOW IT LOOKS WHEN ALL THIS IS OVER.

  1. Lumpectomy with radiation
  2. Single mastectomy and no radiation
  3. Single mastectomy with or without augmentation
  4. Single mastectomy with augmentation to the unaffected breast as well as one with cancer
  5. Double mastectomy and no radiation with or without augmentation

As of now it does not appear that I will need chemotherapy because no lymph nodes are affected.

I sat there staring at the surgeon who was looking at me with an extreme amount of kindness on her face…as she waited for my response.

I could not breathe. I could not think. I could not choose.

I began to cry and said, “I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know.”

She gave me the opportunity to think on it and made an appointment with a plastic surgeon for me as well as scheduled an MRI to look more into what was happening in my breasts. She said, “the MRI will help you to know what to do. It’s ok that you don’t right now; we have time.”

When you have been told you have cancer, I can honestly say this, TIME is one thing you no longer feel you have.

At the conclusion of this appointment, our support system was hoping for a “plan” to have been made and now I have to tell them we are still trying to determine what is the best thing to do for me.

I feel an incredible amount of pressure to make a decision. To make the RIGHT decision. To make it soon.

But what is “right” for ME?

If you’re new to my blog, you may be unfamiliar with my other “invisible” illness: I have Crohn’s disease. It is an autoimmune disease that affects my GI tract as well as the rest of me systemically. I am on medication that suppresses my immune system in order to keep my autoimmune system from going into overdrive. When my medication is not at its appropriate blood level, the fatigue I feel is unbearable and irritable bowel symptoms arise.

Frankly, Crohn’s is the banner to which I would like to march under as it is the dragon I have come to know and NOT Breast Cancer… but, alas~ I guess I have to carry two banners now.

Here’s the thing: I WILL recover from breast cancer, but I will always LIVE with Crohn’s Disease. Whatever I do with this cancer is going to affect my autoimmune system…and I cannot get that thought out of my head no matter how hard I try.

I am a woman with Crohn’s disease that will have to endure whatever choice of treatment I decide on.

Can my immunosuppressed body fight left over or new cancer cells if I do not choose a mastectomy or do not choose radiation?

As I was told by a trusted source, I am not in the statistics for the efficacy of treatment for breast cancer. I am not one they included in the tests and trials. I am in the “unknown” category of how I will respond and what role my Crohn’s medication may have had on this or could have on this in the future.

I am a Crohn’s patient that now has breast cancer and that cannot be ignored or forgotten or push aside or minimized.

I have TWO active diseases now.

Now enter in my “people pleasing” problem.

This one really ticks me off!

I cannot believe how much I worry about what other people think… I worry so much about judgment that I found it difficult to make a choice for MYSELF and MY body without fear of “doing it wrong.”

Wrong for who??

A bilateral mastectomy is considered “radical.” Did you know that? The thing is it means it is a radical surgical procedure that involves the removal of the entire breast, including the nipple, areola, skin, and underlying chest muscles and it is performed to treat breast cancer.

Yet, the word “radical” (especially in view of this context) is more defined as “very different from the usual or traditional; extreme.”

A bilateral mastectomy seems radical to some when they hear “Stage 1 cancer”. That it is an extreme treatment. That is is different from the usual.

The fear of judgement from others was IMPACTING my own judgment.

I could not hear myself think because all I could hear was “that seems extreme” if I waivered in the direction where I seemed to want to go.

“It’s a big surgery.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“You would do that? Do you HAVE to?”

Do you know how many people have told me “all they needed” was a lumpectomy and radiation and they were “fine”?

Too many to count.

But were they my age at diagnosis?

Did they have an aunt with 3 separate occurrences of breast cancer?

Do they get treated for an autoimmune disease?

We are given a CHOICE and that choice is there for a reason. The reason is because this is my body and my life. It is not my husband’s. It is not my children’s. It is not my parents. It is not those that care for me. It is mine.

I have to choose.

I have to stand at the end of it all to say, “I made the best decision I could make and I could have done nothing else. I have no regrets.”

I prayed for clarity.

I asked others to pray for me to have a clear mind to make a decision.

Praise the Lord, God put people directly into my path that spoke honest words of wisdom to me in those next few days.

Dan went out of town for business so I went to the plastic surgeon appointment alone. That doctor sat down in front of me and simply asked, “do you know what you want to do?”

I said, “a bilateral mastectomy please.”

I made my choice.