Christmas Joy

“This is not the Christmas I had planned. This is not the Christmas I wanted.”

A lot of people might be saying this today as families gather and presents are opened. But sometimes the joys we’ve seen in the past stay in the past and longings we have for today aren’t fulfilled. Families are separated, loved ones have passed away, and sometimes the joy is hard to find. Illness, loss, tragedy…all can obscure our vision and dim the bright lights of Christmas. Sadness and loneliness seem to be the theme of the day rather than joy and merriment.

As I spend this Christmas away from my children, away from my grandchildren, away from all my extended family, there is a temptation to look back at past gatherings and be sad. There’s the temptation to allow the cancer that has come into my life and upended all my plans to steal my joy.

Thankfully there’s one Joy they cannot be quenched, there is one Light that cannot be dimmed. Jesus came as the light of the world. He came to bring us a joy that the world cannot take away. No amount of loss, illness, tragedy, separation, or longing unfulfilled can dim His light or quench His joy. These are the gifts of Christmas that do not fade, do not lose their value, and cannot be taken away. These are the gifts I cherish today and every day as I learn to grow ever closer to God.

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

Uncertainties

  It was just a faint line. I could barely see it. But my breast surgeon was telling me it looked like more cancer than we originally thought. The good news was that everything looked like stage one. It was all small, but it was more than one spot.

Yesterday was my appointment with my breast surgeon. I was ready. I had done my research. I knew the possibilities. What I did not know was that there would be a curve ball so early in the game. 

I looked with her at the mammogram image on the computer screen. I could barely see the line she was pointing out. She showed me a small spot on the ultrasound at the end of that line that moved up and left from the original biopsy spot. There was definitely something there that did not look like the rest of the image. "Okay," I said, "What do we do now?"

We discussed my family history and my own history for a bit. We decided that I needed an additional biopsy of the spot at the end of that line. I would also need an MRI of both breasts, plus an oncotype test and genetic test. All of these will determine what kind of surgery and additional treatment I would need going forward. But if the second biopsy comes out positive, a lumpectomy will definitely be off the table.

This morning I got the call to schedule the tests. The oncotype and genetic tests are in progress already and the other testing will be completed December 30. The nurse that scheduled the MRI and biopsy said they only invite the people they like to come back for more tests. I guess I should be mean next time I go in.

I go back to the breast surgeon for results and to schedule surgery on January 11. I am still at peace and ready for whatever God has in store in the next step of this journey, no matter how uncertain things look. His hands are good ones to be in.    

Lost, Lost, Replaced, Found, Found

Tuesday was "one of those days." I was happy because I finally was able to do something to move things forward. I was going to my breast surgeon's office to do all the necessary paperwork and make my first appointment. 

There was a bit of frustration because, when they called me on Monday to tell me to come in, they told me they could not see any of my old mammograms in the system. There was even a note in my file that there were no old films to compare with the ones taken in September. But I had been told in October that they had been received and reviewed. Oh well, I planned to go two buildings over to the breast care center (who confirmed the receipt of the films) after I did my paperwork to see if they could clear it up.

I happily trot up to the counter and greet the receptionist. She asks me for my driver's license and insurance card. Well, I don't have the card yet as I was just approved officially on Monday. She says I will be entered as self-pay and they can change it later. I then reach into my wallet to pull out my license...it is not there! 

I am totally flummoxed! I almost never take out my license for anything. I start to frantically search my brain for a clue... what in the world did I do with it? Then I remember, the last time I took it out was when I applied for the insurance. They took a copy of it and I clearly remember them giving it back to me. But where it went from that point is a total blank! 

Did I put it in my pocket? Did it fall out somewhere? In the car? In the parking lot? Is it still in a pocket somewhere? What did I wear that day? Did I throw it away with the paperwork I took home and no longer needed? Does someone have it and is happily stealing my ID to purchase thousands of dollars' worth of knock off purses? I call Steve and give him several places to search at home with orders to report back soon.

Okay, calm down. I go ahead and fill out all the paperwork and tell the receptionist I will go search my car and be back if I find it. Eight or eighty pages later, I finally head downstairs and start tearing the interior of my car apart. Between the seats, between the back and seat, under the floor mats, moving the seats forward, moving the seats back, even looking in the trunk...nothing. 😕

Steve checks in. He has searched every pocket on every piece of clothing I own. Searched drawers, books, bags, everything he could think of...nothing. 😢

Somewhere in the middle of the car search, I call the office where I filled out the insurance paperwork. "I know you would have told me if I had, but I need to cover all my bases, did I leave my driver's license there?" Nope. But she remembers me putting it into my "clear envelope." HUH? I don't have any clear envelopes. I dismiss her memory of the envelope as probably belonging to another client.

Nothing left to do now but order a replacement license. Bummer. I pull up the website on my phone (I am still in the parking lot) and easily order the replacement. I head two buildings over to check on the old mammogram films that are still missing.

I talk to three very nice ladies in that office. They call the office I just left to clarify what they are missing and where they looked. After about 15 minutes, they tell me they found the films from 2017 in the system. I'll take it. I don't know where 2018 and 2019 went, but at least they have something. Now to head home.

Two-thirds of the way home, the thought of the "clear envelope" comes back into my head. Long mental pause ensues... It then comes to me that I had put all my important papers, birth certificate, marriage license, social security, etc., into a clear page protector for easy, safe transport. And, I had taken it with me for the insurance paperwork. Did I drop my driver's license into that "clear envelope?"

I'm mentally kicking myself the rest of the way home, "dumb, dumb, numb brain." Once home, I go to our small safe and there on top of everything is that page protector with my driver's license on top. UGH, "dumb, dumb, numb brain."

Of course, I can't cancel the order for a replacement that was submitted just an hour ago. Fine, keep my $12 and send me the new one. At least the office has the films they need and I have a driver's license. And, I do have an appointment on December 15 to see the breast surgeon. Everything is in place and all is moving forward. 

Now if I can just keep my brain functioning so I can get through the four pages of questions I have for the breast surgeon. 😉

Let the Games Begin

I just spent over an hour on the phone with my case worker. She was really struggling to verify my self-employment income. I finally was able to get my “boss” that I was doing contract work for to send her an email and confirm my payments. Then, Woo Hoo! my application for insurance coverage was approved and the referral to see a breast surgeon is going in. Thank you, Lord, for bringing me through this hurdle.

Never have I been so happy at the prospect of having someone cut up part of me that I (and my husband) am quite fond of, bombard me with toxic rays, and fill me with chemicals that will make me feel lousy. Later I will lament the path before me, but for now I am psyched up!

Maybe this delay was another part of God’s plan. I have been quite sick with a bad head and chest cold since my application was submitted. Even if it had been approved, I probably would have had to wait to see a doctor. 

So troops are assembling, calvary is saddling up, everyone lock and load… it’s getting ready for war time! Cancer, you are toast!

Gilbert & Sullivan Thoughts

"My eyes are fully open to my awful situation."

This first line from a song in the Pirates of Penzance was running through my head as I was (trying to) patiently wait for my insurance to be approved.

I am still looking at this process as one I will face with God's strength and peace. It can sometimes sound like I don't see how hard or bad this could be. But I do.

My body has become a battleground. It has been infiltrated by a sneaky enemy that I was not even aware of. He (cancer is too ugly to be a she) has been quietly setting up a foothold in my breast. (That brings up a weird mental picture?!) The battle is not in full swing yet. I am waiting for some of my troops (the insurance) to sign up and for my generals (the doctors) to line up for action. 

Contrary to popular terminology, I do not see myself as a warrior in this fight. I am the battleground. Weapons (surgery, radiation, therapies...) will be launched upon me. The enemy will use biological warfare to try to gain more ground. The battlefield will be torn up and scarred. Once the battle is over, there may be more skirmishes, more battles. Cancer is an enemy you can't turn your back on. It is relentless and constantly seeks ways to infiltrate the battleground again. 

In time, the battleground will heal. Scars and pits from the warfare will fade. Beauty will flourish in its fields and on its hills. Life will come forth and bloom. 

I am moving forward in the trust that I will come through this. But even if my generals lose their battles...cancer will not have won. My final day is not in cancer's control. God has my time in His hands and nothing will take me from this life outside of His timing. 

So yes, my situation is awful. But I have an awesome God that is greater than my situation, my fears, my doubts, my sorrow. He is greater than cancer. He is my strength, my peace, my courage, my joy. 

 

Don't Fear the Elephant!

It is my 63rd birthday. It is also ten days since I received my breast cancer diagnosis. It does not seem possible that it has only been ten days. It seems so much has happened, yet so little has happened. I did receive some "good" news last week. I found out the cancer is not aggressive; I am estrogen receptor positive and HER2 receptor negative. This could indicate no chemo in my future and I will be on hormone therapy after surgery and probably radiation. I am still waiting to get the approval for my insurance and a referral to the breast surgeon.

What I have noticed is I seem to have two kinds of people in my life. Those who ask me what I have learned and how I am doing; and those who seem a little nervous about approaching me, say a quick "Hi," and then hurry off.

I just want to say to everyone, "Don't be afraid of the elephant in the room." As you can see, I am dressing my elephant up and not hiding her. I am happy to talk to you about how I am doing, what new news I have, or anything else. I am a bit like that elephant; I have thick skin. Don't be afraid to talk to me, don't be afraid you will upset me.  

God has blessed me with His calming peace. I am not afraid of whatever is to come. Embrace my elephant and let me share God's faithfulness with you!

The First Wave

The last couple of days have been odd. I have found myself having small panic attacks over everyday tasks. The first was on Sunday as I was heading up to practice with the worship team. It was just a shaky, fearful feeling with no specific target. The second was on Monday as I was pulling into the parking lot at the Women's Wellness Center to complete paperwork to try to get coverage for my treatment. I suddenly had a very specific feeling that I was unable to navigate the parking space and I would hit the cars on either side of me. 

During each incident, another part of my brain was saying, "This is ridiculous. You have been singing for almost 50 years. You have parked without an accident since you got your driver's permit." I guess this is referred anxiety. I have not had a single moment of feeling that way about having cancer. Even the nervousness I had before the biopsy was nothing in comparison. 

However, Monday night I had a sudden surge of sadness and the distinct thought, "God, I don't want to do this." The reality of the possible/probable pain and suffering in the pending treatment just swooped in and washed over me like a wave. I choked up and one tear fell from each eye. Then the wave moved on and I felt it recede in the distance. 

I know there will be days where waves of fear, anxiety, doubt, anger, or sorrow will wash over me. Sometimes they will be little ones that just tug at my ankles. Sometimes they will hit hard and sting. Sometimes they will threaten to knock me down, and some will. And occasionally one will drag me under until I feel I will never come up.  

I know the waves will come; but even more, I know they will go. I know the Master of the seas is the Master of my life. He will care for me through each wave. He will lift me up when I can't swim to the surface on my own. By His grace ...I will always come back up!

The "C" Word

I can't believe it has been 11.5 years since I wrote in this blog. It started to chronicle a medical journey that was too complex and tiring to keep updating people individually. But, now one of the issues discovered back then has blossomed into a new issue.

Back in 2010 I had suspicious mammograms on both breasts. They were both full of microcalcifications. Until January 2020, nothing changed and they were no problem. At that time, I moved to Arizona and lost my health insurance. I did not get mammograms in early 2021 or 22, though I should have. In early August of this year, I had severe pain in my left breast for several days. I found out there was a county sponsored women's wellness program that would cover a mammogram, so I decided to go in. Of course, by the time I got in at the end of the month, there was no more pain. 

But something caught the doctor's eye. There was an ultrasound and second mammogram which revealed new findings that were "highly suspect." I had a biopsy on Tuesday and today got the call that I have Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. It looks like it is early, but I don't have all the details yet. I will do paperwork on Monday to see if the same program will cover treatment and schedule an appointment with the surgeon to discuss options. 

I never thought I would have cancer in my life. I don't really have any direct family history. Other than being overweight, I don't have any of the standard risk factors. I have had many health challenges, but nothing that pointed to cancer. But here it is, in my left breast. 

I feel God gave me the pain to get me to the doctor in order to find this in time to get early treatment. I am at peace with the diagnosis, but concerned about the upcoming treatment and possible side effects. However, God has always seen me through every trial and trauma in my life. He is faithful. He has proven Himself faithful and loving. I am safe in His hands no matter what may come.