Current Doubts

Hello friends, and most genuinely, family--children and husband, inlaws and sister's, grandma and maybe mom?

I intentionally waited to tell my Mom about my biopsy so as to not worry her, for she was on vacation at the time that I had a biopsy done.  When I heard her story of the events which took place on 10-19-2016, I has a sense of, "Maybe this will finally bring us together."

Was I right?  Has this year brought us closer?

Was I wrong?  Have we drifted, or remained stagnant?

Even I can't explain all the details, but my heart senses what has happened, and for that I do grieve.

On October 16, 2016, my Mom was vacationing and had come across a pink fountain that was intentionally flowing with beautiful spouts of light pink in rememberance of Breast Cancer Awareness month, which happens to be in October--oddly.  My Mom posted that pic to her facebook feed, mostly in remembrance of her living best friend who suffered breast cancer and treatment.  She would later state that it felt like God directing her and bringing she and I together while I had simply covered my secret biopsy so she could enjoy her vacation without worries or fears.

This was the beautiful fountain she came across.  I remeber sitting with her as we spoke about the coincidence, which we both creditied to God in the end.  It felt so good to have my Mom give God the credit over something bringing her memory and thoughts towards ME, though I do wonder if we as souls play more of the role in the many intuitive thoughts and directions we have and follow through with.  Dear Mom, you were simply in tune with me as my heart cried out to you while me voice was silent.

I doubt, however.  

Though the beginning of this journey seemed to unite my mother and I in ways I felt we needed, it has become apparent that too much pain can destroy the connections we are seeking and needing.

Cancer is a very isolating experience.  I have found that it is very hard to assimilate with anyone because my direct circle isn't actively fighting for their lives via a long slow deathlike journey.  Most of my peers are dropping their beautiful children off at school, rushing to work, cleaning and cooking during the late afternoon hours, watching a bit of TV or going to sports activities for their children in the evening, and laying their heads to rest in honor of a day well spent.  

I, however, have spent my days trying to care for an infant by either laying or crawling on the floor if Daddy is working.  When he isn't, I am usually in bed or at the hospital getting another round of chemo or planning surgeries.  I have amazing friends who have picked up my children daily for school and a husband who has made every attempt to get them to church, create a very loose routine, and keep them safe for me while I am sleeping, depressed, or away at more appointments.  But when I am home, I must be careful to not touch the children for 24 hours post treatment.  Because I have a newborn, and he was already failing to thrive while within me, as well as now, I push that 24 hours to 36 or more.  It is torture. This is not the experience I had hoped for as a 36 year old mother.  This is living hell for me.

It has become apparent that the pain I must face is a pain my mother doesn't want to repeatedly endure.  I understand.  She has been distant, except for the moments when I drop my sweet Gavin off at her house every so often so I can make it to another treatment.  Perhaps, we can only handle so much pain in life before we close a door and say, "Enough is enough."

My pain didn't have to be her's.  Yet, in feeling so much distance from her while I have been fighting for the life she gave me, my pain has been amplified.  

I wish there was an easier way.

Ramblings of Tender Times...

I haven't paused to consider some of the real aspects of how my appearance has changed so drastically over this last year.  I have never known the shape of my own head, so I took a picture of it...it's much rounder than I thought!  Yay!!!  Note, my skin is always a bit on the unhealthy tone, no profile eyelashes when they once were naturally so very long, and no defining eyebrows--but I still have that classic flipped up nose that my hubby fell in love with many years ago.

This was an attempt to sleep in my girls bed one night, as we have tried to do that since I have regained a bit of strength.  We watch a movie on my laptop and fall asleep cuddled together tightly.  Maya and I were still awake but trying to sleep, so I took this image, but the flash made us look like we were sleeping already!  HAHA!  Never know what reality is in just a picture!

Daddy and Lydia were sitting tightly in this armchair, while Maya classically photo bombed their moment--but that was meant to be, a Daddy and his girls will always create beauty.

Just yesterday, I caught my oldest and youngest son wearing shirts for me.  Gavin's shirt says, "I wear pink for my Mom!" and Connor's says, "We all fight together."  The pink shirt was a fundraiser for me from my Aunt Marla early on in my battle.

Here we have Aiden making a goofy face, and that's just the nature of my dear son--always making me smile!

Then in life, we catch the most tender of moments...sweet Maya loving her little brother....

And then sweet Lydia, giddy with the precious naked baby on her lap.  She has learned already that life is so much more complete with a beautiful baby in your arms.

Pausing to Recognize Some of My Angels...Only Some

This is my beautiful twin sister--a woman who has loved me through thick and thin, sorrow and joy, and sickness and health. I feel that we are one in thought, experience, and sorrow.  I have seen more beauty and pain surround her in the last nine months of our lives--and I totally feel that it is quite unfair.  Why would she be called to suffer so intensely when this is my battle to walk?  Yet, we are twins--two individuals that came from one fertilized egg which miraculously split into two identical and beautiful people who have an unspoken bond of loyalty that we can't put into words for anyone.

Here is out little boogie, sporting his shorts on his head, per Lydia's request....

I must add, Boogie loved it even more than I thought he would!  This little one has such similar characteristics to all of his brothers!  When he is giving us a serious face, with much intention mind you, he bears a resemblance to Connor.  It is hilarious to see us being goofy and trying to get a grin out of him while he stares at us with eyes that seem to look straight through us, tries with all his might to withhold a smile, then turns his face away as he looks to be rolling his eyes, but instead he gives a long and intentional blink.  I can almost hear him saying, "You think you're funny, HA, if you only knew how dorky you are!"

He does the same little sniffle breathing through a wrinkled nose that Aiden did when he was a wee one.  When Gavin is focusing on getting something, or has been influenced by us to start the breathing game, his nose wrinkles up, his eyes squint, his closed mouth puckers just slightly and he breathes loudly and quickly through his nose; it's the ongoing joke in our family, to watch, hear, and play along with his monkey like expressions!

Gavin came out looking a lot like Shane, and the love he has towards Steve and me is so close, yet expressed differently to the love Shane has towards us.  He adores being with Daddy, and now, as I'm recovering a bit and having more energy to be a huge part of his life still, he has loved me unconditionally.  On Sunday morning, I woke with him at 5:15 am.  I was shocked that he wouldn't go back to sleep, but instead of acting angry or annoyed, I smiled at him and we quietly made our way to a sleep like living room.  After 2 hours of play and breakfast, he came to me as I laid on the living room couch crashing.  He fussed a bit and then put his head onto my breast as we laid together and immediately fell into a tender and deep sleep.  Oh, it felt like heaven--I will never forget my baby falling onto my body and sleeping with me in an instant for several hours.  THAT, my dearest friends, is the fruit which comes from loving your children and raising them in faith and charity.

These are my very tired mama eyes when Gavin attempts to wake me and I attempt to get him back to sleep, even if it beside me.  I always end up struggling to keep him on the bed as he crawls from one place to the next.  My attempts for sleep tend to fail, but my bond with him always grows--mama's, remember this wisdom; what you do today will exponentially become what you will have as your children face real life.  I desire honesty, faith, hope, lots of love, time spent together, laughing, forgiveness, and communication to be had between me and the kids....and that is why I give them all of the above every day.


Today (Saturday, August 5th, 2017), Lydia was on cloud nine as she was allowed to carry Gavin to the room after his bath.  Gavin will still lay in the cradle position after his bath, and today was no different than the rest.  Lydia began to sway as she held him, reluctant to give him up.  She then stated, "I love this!  This is the most precious thing in the world!  I don't want to put him down!"  I let her sway with him a bit longer and then after he was lathered in lotion, about ready to get his pajamas and diaper on, Lydia stated, "Mom, can I hold him real quick one more time?"  I responded, "Of course!" and then watched her cradle a naked little boy in her arms!  She stated that, "This is the best!"  My heart was about to burst with love towards her, and the beautiful mother I told her she will one day be!  She glowed with a smile of honor, and her rosy, flattered cheeks spoke all the happiness a young girl can have!  Lydia taught Gavin to drink from a straw this week after Daddy sought to teach him these abilities for weeks lately!  The joys these girls have with a baby in the home gives me the greatest sense of gratitude that he came to us so late in my child bearing years--for me at least.  Last night (Sunday, August 6th), Lydia stated that she had a dream that I had another baby while Gavin was still little.  She said it was the best thing to watch--Gavin having a little friend and us having a new child in the home.  Gosh, I cannot say how much it gave me the desire to push all the cancer treatments aside to see if I regain my fertility and can have another baby.  Yet, my cancer is driven by my sex hormones, and it may mean death for me if we even attempted that route. :-(

Watching these girls take on the motherly characteristics of embracing a baby is one of the most beautiful relationships I have ever seen.  I have watched brothers love little siblings, and as they have gotten' older it is still absolutely charming, but girls give you a brand new perspective of their innate ability to love and nourish human beings.  Maya, the little mother which she is, has so much hope that Gavin will daily allow her to hold him and love him like a sweet infant.  His busy days prevent the close cuddling, but she plays along by giving him shoulder rides and spinning him around--activities that make my heart race yet place a smile on my face!

As a break to this cancer story I am bound to continue, it was good to focus on these lovely memories over the last little while.  I love my dear family so much!

The Beginning

(Me, just weeks before my biopsy on 10-19-2016--snap chatting...AKA, having fun.)

Tonight, I started a series called "Chasing Life".  It's about a young woman who finds out she has cancer and is struggling to come to terms with the initial shock factor and how to tell her family.

I've been struggling to write all of the events which lead me to this very event as well.  Finalizing it in writing seems to be one of the best ways for me to accept it so I can move on.

Today, I have been living with cancer for an innumerable amount of days--no one can tell me when it began.  Today, however, I have known for a solid fact that I have cancer for 281 days.

On October 19, 2016, I was scheduled to have a biopsy of the lump that was found in my breast.  The biopsy was very early in the morning, and the only people I had informed about it at the time was my husband, my three sisters, and my mother in law.  One would question why my mother wasn't informed at the time.  The answer is simple.  As the main character in "Chasing Life" mentions, "I didn't want to worry Mom more than I had to at the time."

Most of us feel a small sense of invincibility when we are going in for a biopsy.  I had never, even once, considered that all of my fears about having cancer would eventually come to an ironic climax.

Over the next series of blog posts, I will write in full about the events, feelings, and shocking realities I have had to experience over the last 281 days.  I will make the account as accurate as I can recall--I only say that because "chemo brain" has played some damaging games with my poor brain.  However, my "long term" memory is clear as day, and I consider everything up to my initiation with chemotherapy to be long term.  If I dwell on those days and weeks prior to starting treatment for too long, the grieving comes back to haunt me, but for the sake of remembering and telling my story, I will face it all again.

Here's to not wanting to scare Mom, and to facing the reality that I had to scare her one day....but what day would I be able to do it?  Here's to countless days without sleep as tears drenched my pillow.

Here's to knowing your life is in jeopardy.
With deepest love and regards,

Crys

October 16, 2016--happy to be at the end of a pregnancy so I can "feel better".  I kid you nor, I could hardly breath as I walked through this pregnancy--it was awful, but I was still so oblivious to my inevitable pain.

Daddy on October 16, 2016--living life with a fun grin and hard work. Little did he know, the work load would just get harder as he would become my only caregiver day after day after day for the last 281 days.  Poor guy could have used a lot of help.   

Losing More Than Hair

I've hardly been able to pull my self out of bed today.  I can say that for most days, but lately things have felt like they have become too unbearable to live thorough.  Aside from feeling like I can hardly function because I'm always so tired, I found myself in a position where I could have almost predicted this last week, by dream alone.

We all have some kind of dreams, whether we recall them or not.  Sometimes they mean everything and sometime one would say they are merely the recovering of the body and brain as it recalls the events of our days.  I'd shed a light on dreams all together by saying that MY dreams are rarely about recovery, more than they are about warnings, premonitions, and even events from beyond our realm of understanding unfolding before us.

So I had a dream the other night that most of us would pass off as a fear--realistic, logical, fear.  I had lost a tooth and only mush remained behind.  That sucks, to lose an adult tooth.  Many people have these dreams right?  They most likely, by dream "experts", are foretelling of something happening in your life, that blah, blah, blah, blah, blah....

In my real life, just a day later, I lost an adult tooth.  And guess what was left behind--mush.  I cried, of course.  After living with failing health for longer than I can even recall now, I have had 6 root canals performed, most of the other teeth filled with "fillings" because of cavities, and have had to have a tooth pulled.  I lost my wisdom teeth back in the end of High School, so that left me with 24 teeth to care for since.  If I can get to a dentist, because we are dead broke and failing at even paying our freaking bills, I will be left with 22 teeth--with even more in need of being pulled by now.  I suck at caring for what I've been given, obviously.

I have cared for my teeth much better than some, have been ridiculed by dentists for having not cared for them well, and have cried tears of unwelcome shame for being misunderstood.  Non of these physicians knew that my body took a turn for the worse with one health ailment after another when the worst part of my teeth issues began.

So, I'm at the point of feeling severe pain when I eat because my other teeth are falling apart as well.  By now, I HATE FOOD, and ironically it is what I need to get better.  I simply don't want it though, especially with our current situation.

I went to the pharmacy today.  I sat alone, with strangers glancing and looking away quickly.  That's the story of my life.  I almost grew to hate how society just allows each other to suffer by being ignorant.  I felt like my world was crumbling as I waited for more crappy medications that I pay way too much for every month.  I felt alone in a world of selfishness.  Everyone was about their own tasks, for their own good, looking their best while doing it, and I sat in sweat pants, a baggy shirt, bald as crap, stinky, and crying.  Each tear that fell was almost like an invisibility cloak was placed over me again and again, so as to not show the world that I needed comfort.  Then I looked at my watch--it read 3:07--the time my son in heaven was born.  Maybe you have to know life and death to understand me now, because the only seat that wasn't empty in my row of chairs was mine.  Then it hit me, he was sitting right beside me--because when no one would offer mercy to a woman grieving in a pharmacy, he was there.

Life still feels ugly and worthless today--it's the nature of the beast.

I don't want to do radiation therapy.  It's supposed to start soon.  I just want to end this suffering.  I am far from being healed, especially in spirit.  I don't see how I can be right and whole right now with how I feel.  The children have hardly seen me today.  I feel like a failure.

Who ever said having cancer while having 5 children dependant on your care was even possible?  I guess God did. I'm doubting His rational.

I feel so alone....

To the broken hearts and bodies out there today, I feel you..
Crys

Kill Me Please...

The most embarrassing thing happened the other night.

I've been vomiting post chemo but this came out of no where, and it seemed like there was no reception for compassion in this home by anyone awake at the time, at least.

While I was laying in bed, already asleep for the evening, I felt a warm fluid substance under me.  Yep...you guessed it, either by pee or poo, I had an accident.

The last thing an adult wants to tell another adult is that, "I just soiled the bed."  My case had me in a position where I had to speak up because the baby was going nuts already.  So, I told my husband who seemed annoyed that I just woke him from his slumber on the living room couch.

The good thing--my pajamas and underwear caught the mess before it was too much, and the bed was saved.  The sad thing--all I heard from the mouth of my husband was, "It stinks in here."

Thanks hun.  In a moment I kinda' needed a moral boost, I heard that I make the house stink.

I seriously would rather be dead today.

Cancer sucks, and it steals all the energy out of everyone so that a support system doesn't even exist in the end.  And once you're there, without support, you would do just about anything to have your support system feel what a day feels like in your life so they would have compassion still.

Ya, some days, I think I'm just the female version of Job, asking God why he hates me so much.  I'm sorry God, but I have tried and witnessed Your name all my days.  This is not right.

Sorry for the blunt negativity--I'm just finding that once your last chemo is done, and by done I mean, the IV infuser is beeping because the bag is empty, the world seems to think you are better.  Hell, I feel like slaughtered meat that still needs to go through the grinder.

Farewell for tonight.

Your fellow sufferer,
Crys

Recovering and Surrendering

All I really want to do tonight is share stories about the most recent birthdays in our house, including the birth of our sweet 6th child back in October, but I am haunted by this thing that happens once chemo builds up in my body round after round after round.

This morning, I woke in extreme pain.  Walking on my feet felt like the biggest burden I've been given, so I was extremely grateful my husband had a day off and was able to tend to the children while I slept in a bit.  Honestly, I will give the children the highest credit to sleeping in because most days they willingly take Gavin in the morning so I can sleep in.  Today, sweet Aiden took over Gavin's care so that Daddy, too, could rest a bit.  Once I was up and wobbling, Lydia asked if today would be a good day for doing exercise videos, and I sadly had to let her down by telling her how much pain I was in.  Her response was well deserved, as she stated in frustration, "you always are like that," and that, my friends, is sadly true.  Some days, I wonder if I will be able to make it through this life in so much physical pain, but I'm trying to take it one day at a time so that I can truly live in the moment.

Then.....food came.  After this last round of the red devil, as it has had 3 months to build it's levels and toxicity to fester in my body, I have learned some techniques to getting food in me.  Then there are days, like the last two, when swallowing hurts so bad that I indulge in one bite of my meal and have to call it quits.  The sores in my throat are raw, and I'd rather starve than feel them.  At about the same time each night, I have to run through the house to the bathroom because the wee bit of food and fluids are churning in my tummy  and begging to come out.  Luckily, the toilet gets most of the projected contents of my tummy.  At times, I am heaving so violently that the wall behind the toilet gets a covering of the nasty mess.  I just finished wiping the wall, toilet, and floor off from my outburst, and as I came out of the bathroom Aiden says, "I heard it....", and I'm thinking, "That's almost worse than 'I did it' when it comes to vomiting!"

Last night, I had the grand idea of having a movie night with my sweet daughters.  They share a bed right now, and if all three of us are positioned just right, we are able to sleep side by side and enjoy the warmth and cuddles from each other.  It was one of the most wonderful things to lay in bed with them, have their sweet heads resting gently on my body while we all watched a movie on my laptop.  They told me moment by moment, "thank you for doing this with us Mommy...I love you so much!"  Since being diagnosed and treated for cancer, I have found that the trial in and of itself can be very hard to hand over to God.  People make it sound like it was an easy task to move from a type A personality to a very laid back, non labeled personality who simply lives in the moment, loving life.  While it isn't easy, by any means at all, I do believe that it is a choice as well as a natural response to having your mortality stripped from you.

Something very hard to describe has happened to me.  I will attempt to make sense of it.  I cried every day of the last 9 months until recently.  As the storms have calmed, I have attempted to simply allow myself to breath in and out, enjoying the sound and feeling of each breath.  I have found the purest joy in sitting with my children and feeling their little feet against me.  Honestly, I have even asked my boys to stretch out so I can feel their precious bodies, alive and well.  While I was laying in bed, trying to nap, my husband placed his hand on me yesterday, and I took it from my shoulder and wrapped it into my arms and just held it for as long as he would let me.  Having this body, that can breath, feel, and bring joy to others and myself with is the most precious gift in the world.  It may not look as beautiful and healthy as it once did, but laying in bed and having inflammatory drugs in you most of the time over the last 9 months has caused a muscle wasting effect that has left me unrecognizable to the me that has walked on this earth sine 1980.  I feel burdened by the effects of being sick, but I've also found the intense gifts that surrendering those disappointments to God can have.  In living in the moment, appreciating the joys in my life, I have found that the dark unknown begins to dissipate.  That's not to say that their isn't grief and sorrow attached to this disease and what it continues to do; my children, especially, have these awful fears of not having me with them when they are older and need advice on who to marry, or when they are getting married, having their children, and living their dreams.  The girls most often will tell me of these fears that plague them; it breaks my heart.  I, too, want to give them advice, watch them marry, have children, share themselves with this great big world, and then comfort them when their hearts break.  I have felt it necessary to tell them that even if I am not here, they will always have the privilege of having me as their guardian angel, standing by to comfort and love them.  Those are hard conversations.

I use to dwell on a scripture in the Bible when I was a teenager.  It referenced the power in taking no thought for what you will eat, drink, or do for tomorrow, for tomorrow will take care of itself, being sufficient for a day is enough.  I never really understood that when I had been coming to recognize that God must be the massive planner in life for all of His words to come to be and for this great plan to exist in the first place, with an Earth positioned perfectly to the sun so as to not burn us to death, and the symbols of the Earth to our bodies to be so perfectly tuned.  The Earth is 70% water, while our bodies are built with water and fluids taking up about 70% of it's composition.  All of the perfectly placed pieces did not sound to me like God desires us to take care of ourselves today only.  And that is true, that is not the point of that scripture.  What it truly means is that we have no power to change what yesterday was, and no ability to even know if tomorrow exists, but we have today--this very moment--to feel, love, give, laugh, touch, admire, compliment, advise, and simply exist.  The gift of being happy by existing has not been something I willingly asked for, it is a gift I have been given in the depths of tribulation when I then willingly asked for it because I felt like crud every day for way too long.  Therefore, I give all the credit to God for allowing me to find joy in every moment which teaches us what pure unconditional and true love really are.  Funny how my teen scripture pondering comes to mind as I contemplate where I am now--it is clear to me that divine intervention has always existed with me, and it does with all of you as well.  God, who advises us to live for today, every day, has planned a beautiful reception for us if we will surrender our hearts and minds to Him.

Tonight, I will live by faith that these side effects will ease.

Today, I felt joy and love with my family.  They may not have seen me glancing their way, admiring their beauty and growth, but I did.  I will do it every day that The Lord allows me to exist here, in mortal form.

That is a good way to end a hard recovery day.