The BIG Things

Over the past four months, I have spent a great deal of time writing about, celebrating and clinging to the small joys. It has been the simple things, the small things that have meant the most throughout this cancer trip. And I totally believe that it is the simple, everyday, ordinary moments that one strings together that will mean the most in the end. Yesterday, I started thinking about the BIG things. 

I promise that this is not a gloom and doom post. However, one cannot face cancer without thinking about the big things. 

Christian's Grandmother passed away right after Christmas. She was the purest, kindest soul I have ever met. This past weekend, our family gathered from all ends of the country to celebrate her life with a small memorial. The weather was perfect, and my dad got to do the service. As I sat there thinking about her and listening to the stories and memories, I was overcome with gratitude that I had had a chance to know her and be a part of her family. She was a quiet, strong woman. She loved her family, and she lived a full life caring for others and loving God.

 I sat there wondering how I would be remembered if my family had gathered to reflect on my life. I know they would not say I was quiet, but strong, I think they would say that. I think they would say I could make people laugh. I have always loved making people laugh. I hope they would say that I was loyal and determined and that I loved hard. It really made me think about how I have lived my life up to this point. I know I have played hard, made mistakes, held grudges and burned bridges. I have lied and gossiped and been self-centered. Yuck. But  I hope that when I am a grandma and I leave this place, my children rise up and call me blessed (Proverbs 31). I hope that I make my children feel good about themselves. I hope they never question whether I am proud of them. I hope Christian knows that he rocks my world. I hope my children and friends will think about me when they hear Janis Joplin or a broadway number or smell patchouli..

The BIG thing is that I don't have to hope for all of these things to happen. I can start right now and make it my mission to love and laugh with my babies and spoil them rotten. I can celebrate report cards and strike outs and recitals and coloring in the lines. I can tell my husband that he is number 1, better yet, I can show him. I can teach my children about love and life and mistakes and grace and I can do it right now. I can prioritize and capitalize on this moment.

Chemotherapy #3 is now in the past. My side effects seem less severe with the new meds that have been added. And the family time, and belly laughs were just what the doctor ordered. The SHERBERT PUNCH CANCER WALK is coming up on April 20. I have ordered the first round of t-shirts, so if you still would like to participate, please visit SHERBERT PUNCH CANCER FIGHT FB page for details. 

As you wrap up this work week, and enjoy the weekend, enjoy the small things while remembering the BIG things.

Life is short. Family is important. Now is the time.

March Madness

I am so glad that March is here. I love the fact that Spring is around the corner. I love Augusta in the Spring. I love dogwood trees, especially the pink ones. I love Masters week. I love Easter. I love the fact that cold weather will soon be a thing of the past. I am definitely a warm weather girl. I think the sun and warmth will do wonders for my morale as I go through the back half of this treatment regimen.

I have completed my second round of chemo. My oncologist added in some new medications to help with the digestive side effects that the chemotherapy brings on. I have to say that round 2 was easier than round 1. I only lost 7 pounds this time around, and I was able to get through my follow-up appointment without the breakdown of the decade. I spared my poor doctor the "Steel Magnolias" beauty shop scene complete with snot and orange juice. My main complaint this time was the emotional symptoms brought on by the steroids I receive before my infusion. I was in full blown "roid rage" by day 3. Everything and everyone had wronged me in some way. The kids were having too much fun, Christian crunched chips too loud, and although I was surrounded with my family and friends most of the weekend, I felt completely alone. The best thing I could do for myself and everyone around me was sleep. And sleep I did. I made up for at least 3 months of 1998, in one weekend.  

I have spoken to other cancer patients about this "alone in a crowded room" phenomenon. I really thought I was going crazy, but it turns out that most people who have faced cancer have faced this feeling. It is a desperate, scary state to be in. I can confidently say that this feeling, by far, is the hardest part of this disease. This is where support groups and conversations with other cancer survivors has been the most helpful for me. When I first meet a woman who has been through breast cancer, it immediately feels as if we have known each other a lifetime. So, if you are reading this at home and you have been through cancer, reach out to others who are in the trenches, because your story can change the course of the day or week for someone. 

Almost all of my hair is gone. There still remains a little halo of fuzz. When I look at myself in the mirror, my physical appearance can be hard to swallow. The mastectomy scars, my port and now my bald head...it is so crazy how life has changed in 4 months. I think I have mourned my hair loss more than the boob loss. I was able to cover my flat chest with a sweater or scarf, but when the hair is gone, there is nowhere to hide. I cannot pretend that nothing is wrong.  I cannot fake it. I have cancer. I have been covered up with complements. My head shape is a hit!! I am grateful my head isn't shaped like Sloth from the Goonies.  All I can say is, Target's winter hat clearance sale and rouge have saved me. 

I had the chance to share a meal with old friends from nursing school the other day. It was a time to catch up, and share our struggles and victories. I left the restaurant with a renewed since of gratitude for my life experiences, even the painful ones. It has been these rock bottom moments where I have seen things the clearest and experienced God's grace to the fullest. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have never been alone. 

With Easter approaching, I pray that I can focus on the good, positive things in my life, rather than feel sorry for myself. I am thankful for my husband who crunches, my friends who visit even when I have steroid rage, my understanding employers, doctors with big brains and DVR. I am thankful for sunshine and photography and 90's music. I am thankful for belly laughs, and the ability to laugh at myself. I am thankful for my kids and their bravery, my church family that has prayed for me for over 20 years. Survivor stories, My dad's gentle hands, my mom's ability to know exactly what I need, even when I don't. My friends who are working tirelessly on the fundraiser, so my bills will be paid. Strangers that pray for me. Memories of where I have been that will keep me from going there again, Jesus, who endured a torture much worse than chemo, and sherbert punch. 






If anyone is interested in purchasing a shirt, it is easiest to just sign up for the walk. Active.com will take your payment, get a shirt size and a mailing address. If you are unable to attend the walk, simply send me a message and we will mail it to you.