I'm pretty sure I might never like my bald head much, except that I kind of like what having a bald head is doing for me! I find it brings perspective to all kinds of situations, as much for other people as for me. I like watching people be all serious about their own lives, and then look at me (the best is when I bring all three kids with me!) and their facial expressions change, and not in a bad way.
I also think I am almost becoming a bad-ass, in some ways, and all due to my bald head. Before baldness, I would often be nervous about doing the wrong thing, saying the wrong thing, being somewhere if I wasn't absolutely sure it was appropriate for me to be there, stepping out of line. Now that I'm bald, though, I almost wish someone would mess with me. I'm walking into situations not nervous if I should be there or not, I don't even care who I talk to or what I say, who the person is, what they have done with their lives that I maybe have not yet done with mine. I'm the bald girl with something really wrong with her (or so a stranger might think, they don't know it was only a stage 1 cancer) and there is something about being that person that makes me stronger. I hope I keep that bad-ass feeling with me when my hair grows again.
6/7/08
6/6/08
You need a time-out!
I was wondering if it was really useful to be putting Nathan in time-outs for his bad behavior (hitting and scratching and screeching at his sisters), but I figured since he stays in the time-out, he must understand it to a certain extent. I might know better what to do and how to discipline my children if I read a parenting book, but I gave up on that when Emma was about 4 months old (that explains why my children act like they do, I'm parenting on the fly).
When he looked at me this afternoon and very sternly (and loudly) said to me, "Mommy, get in da tair!" I realized that yes, he does understand time-outs, and boy does he know how to administer them! I got right into that chair. (not really)
When he looked at me this afternoon and very sternly (and loudly) said to me, "Mommy, get in da tair!" I realized that yes, he does understand time-outs, and boy does he know how to administer them! I got right into that chair. (not really)
6/5/08
A good thing to remember
(From a forwarded email message, I only took the parts that I were applicable to me since this is my blog!)
"You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back. Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin."
Sometimes emotional email forwards are good to read...
"You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back. Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin."
Sometimes emotional email forwards are good to read...
Small Miracles
I'm a definite believer in miracles, angels, and God. I can't decide if I believed in such things so strongly FIRST, and then had experiences that made me believe even more, or if I had the experiences first, and then believed. I think, after writing it out, it must have been the former and not the latter. In any case, I've had some pretty amazing, fascinating things happen to me over the course of my life - supernatural sorts of things that I can't rule out as anything other than the work of God, or angels (in another word, miracles). They were very SMALL miracles, mind you - nothing terribly significant such as people coming back to life or spontaneous remission of disease - but they were really meaningful moments in my life at times when I needed extra support (and I only know of 3, over the course of my whole life, so there weren't many). I'm not going to write about the old miracles here, but if someone needs to hear of them, I'm happy to meet you and tell you about them!
In writing this, I am now sure that it was my faith in God that helped me through the death of my Mom. I was 12, so it was the time of thinking of grander schemes like the afterlife, especially if death is something that touches you so personally. I had been raised Catholic, but at 12 you think things through for your own self, also. During that hard time, I decided that since none of the living people on earth had actually died yet, they couldn't tell me that there WASN'T something after this life. I could believe what I wanted, and since it was a nicer belief, I believed that God had taken my Mom to a better place. I also decided, and repeated this to myself over and over so much that it still sounds like I am repeating from my 12-year old self, that "Everyone has a purpose, and she must have fulfilled hers early." It was a comforting belief.
I BELIEVED that my mom had a purpose, I tried to still believe that I had one too, after my breast cancer diagnosis. Perhaps I had this scare, and my purpose was connected to it in some way. God would use this to teach me some lessons, and maybe I can help people through my challenges. I don't think I really started to question my thinking (or maybe not question, but be sad with the situation) until I found out that I have the genetic mutation in my BRCA 1 gene. It was at that point that the sad thoughts started really pouring in, because having the genetic mutation seems more sinister than just having breast cancer. My genetic code isn't behind me, trying to stop tumors from happening. What does it mean that God chose to give ME this expiration date from the very beginning of things? Even my grandma, who ostensibly passed this gene on to me, lived to her 60s, had 6 children, and saw some of her grandchildren. Why was this not only my genetic destiny, but why did this happen to me at 34? God not only wants to get rid of me, but my body won't even support me in this. God went to greater lengths to get rid of this one!
So I started to challenge my belief that everyone has a purpose in life, because I don't want part of my purpose in life to be dying early. I already lived through the early death of my mom, and though there are blessings that did fill up some of the void of being a motherless daughter, I DO NOT want that to be the life of my children. I don't want my husband to lose his wife early, either. In my heart and from my experience I know they could still live lives filled with blessings, but there is also a fair amount of misery and loneliness to get through first and the thought of them having to go through that is too much for me.
I wouldn't go so far as to say that I was angry with God, even though I felt like my belief was being challenged. I mostly felt overwhelmingly, overwhelmingly, sad. It's hard to suddenly maybe not believe in something you've believed in for 22 years, but it's worse to think you're going to die early and leave those you love the most.
I didn't know what to think, but also, I wasn't thinking much at all - the thoughts were probably all just unconscious, under-the-radar thoughts. In my everyday life, I'm pretty sure I barely think at all - I spend my day doing things, cleaning things, or just talking to kids. Higher thinking only goes on in my brain when I'm talking seriously to other adults (and since I am horrible at using the phone, and almost always nervous when talking in person, that is just about never), when I'm erging* (and I was on erging haitus after the surgery, and still am not up to enough meters to get into a good thinking zone. And by the way, I never erg hard enough to get past the thinking zone, so that explains why I am never in good shape even though I like erging so much), or when I'm writing. (This explains why I need the blog, if there was ever a time for one, it is now, otherwise these thoughts would just stay way down deep inside and make me miserable.) I mostly only know if I'm overwhelmingly sad once the sadness becomes so serious that I can't even move anymore and I have to think my way out of it.
I was in this sad place on the Monday after my second chemo treatment. I didn't have enough energy to do anything or keep busy, I knew I was sad but I couldn't do anything about it. I felt like God did not want me around, and I didn't want me around much, either, since God didn't seem to have a use for me. It was a seriously low point...but then, a small miracle! A coincidence happened that is almost too coincidental to NOT be a small miracle. It seems silly to write it down, but I will anyway...just please don't comment on this if you aren't believing in my small miracle, because I am happy having it be one. It wasn't life changing, it was even more subtle than the other things that have happened in the past.
Here it is - the acupuncturist recommended something to help pull me out of my black mood (I wasn't sure, still don't know if it worked or not), and just before I got home from the acupuncturist, a friend named Laura dropped off that very same herbal treatment on my doorstep...she had gone to the store, and someone there recommended it for me, but the timing of it all was uncanny. The recommendation and the drop off happened at almost the same time.
Also - I have only met Laura twice in real life, at a book club. She's not someone who has become attached to me through years and experiences; she is just an incredibly generous and loving person, a woman with 4 busy and special children at 3 different schools, who is taking time out of her day to think about the random acquaintance that is me, drive to the store, talk to people about what I might need, buy those things, drive all the way to my house, drop things off on my doorstep, and then drive back to her house where she sends me an email that she dropped something off (because she never even rings the doorbell, she doesn't want to disturb me, though she has spent at least an hour and probably more, thinking of me).
Anyway, for me the thing that makes a miracle a miracle is NOT the coincidence that makes you wonder, but the feeling that comes after it happens. When I opened the bag and saw that this "Rescue Remedy" was inside, I did wonder at the coincidence, but I also felt some sort of strange relief from my sadness. I had a feeling that God wasn't so upset with his creation (me) that he had to get rid of it early, I felt like I wasn't worthless to God, or to the earth or to my fellow humans (because part of me knows my family would be fine without me, and since I spend my whole life taking care of them, what does that mean about my worth as a person?). Here is possibly one of the busiest people I have ever met, opening up herself to my problems, and worrying about me, not only just when it fits her schedule, but on the day that I needed it the most. It just seems miraculous, and with the few things I know about Laura I feel like God did pick her to send me a message, and she did, and I am so grateful. If I could be worthwhile to Laura, then maybe I am worthwhile to others who know me even more, and maybe, maybe, I am worthwhile to God. That's a relief.
*Erg is what rowers call the specific rowing machine they use, made by Concept 2. They are called indoor rowers, or rowing ergometers.
**I've been trying to figure out how to write this whole thing for 3 weeks, and didn't even know how to begin to open this thought process in my mind, or how to put it in a way that it could show people that God (or a higher being, if you aren't a person who talks or believes in God with that name, per se) does have a hand in things on this earth. I wish I was even better at expressing this, but today the need to get it all out became even more desperate as Laura left ANOTHER bunch of presents on my porch. I feel I have to write about this, even if I bungle it, just so that God will tell her, it's ok, don't spend any more money on Pam! because though the presents are so wonderful, I want her to feel some relief from worrying about me. I will always feel like Laura was part of a small miracle, I will always know that she is a gift from God to her fellow people (especially me), and I will always be in awe over the small and wonderful things that happened.
***In writing this, I remembered that I do truly believe that God loves people that are imperfect in human terms, and I think it is sometimes even easier to see the love of God through the imperfection of humans. So then I wonder, why did I feel so unloved when smacked right in the face with the evidence that I am faulty and imperfect? I'll have to think about that later, as I've been putting off lunchtime for two very hungry little kids!
In writing this, I am now sure that it was my faith in God that helped me through the death of my Mom. I was 12, so it was the time of thinking of grander schemes like the afterlife, especially if death is something that touches you so personally. I had been raised Catholic, but at 12 you think things through for your own self, also. During that hard time, I decided that since none of the living people on earth had actually died yet, they couldn't tell me that there WASN'T something after this life. I could believe what I wanted, and since it was a nicer belief, I believed that God had taken my Mom to a better place. I also decided, and repeated this to myself over and over so much that it still sounds like I am repeating from my 12-year old self, that "Everyone has a purpose, and she must have fulfilled hers early." It was a comforting belief.
I BELIEVED that my mom had a purpose, I tried to still believe that I had one too, after my breast cancer diagnosis. Perhaps I had this scare, and my purpose was connected to it in some way. God would use this to teach me some lessons, and maybe I can help people through my challenges. I don't think I really started to question my thinking (or maybe not question, but be sad with the situation) until I found out that I have the genetic mutation in my BRCA 1 gene. It was at that point that the sad thoughts started really pouring in, because having the genetic mutation seems more sinister than just having breast cancer. My genetic code isn't behind me, trying to stop tumors from happening. What does it mean that God chose to give ME this expiration date from the very beginning of things? Even my grandma, who ostensibly passed this gene on to me, lived to her 60s, had 6 children, and saw some of her grandchildren. Why was this not only my genetic destiny, but why did this happen to me at 34? God not only wants to get rid of me, but my body won't even support me in this. God went to greater lengths to get rid of this one!
So I started to challenge my belief that everyone has a purpose in life, because I don't want part of my purpose in life to be dying early. I already lived through the early death of my mom, and though there are blessings that did fill up some of the void of being a motherless daughter, I DO NOT want that to be the life of my children. I don't want my husband to lose his wife early, either. In my heart and from my experience I know they could still live lives filled with blessings, but there is also a fair amount of misery and loneliness to get through first and the thought of them having to go through that is too much for me.
I wouldn't go so far as to say that I was angry with God, even though I felt like my belief was being challenged. I mostly felt overwhelmingly, overwhelmingly, sad. It's hard to suddenly maybe not believe in something you've believed in for 22 years, but it's worse to think you're going to die early and leave those you love the most.
I didn't know what to think, but also, I wasn't thinking much at all - the thoughts were probably all just unconscious, under-the-radar thoughts. In my everyday life, I'm pretty sure I barely think at all - I spend my day doing things, cleaning things, or just talking to kids. Higher thinking only goes on in my brain when I'm talking seriously to other adults (and since I am horrible at using the phone, and almost always nervous when talking in person, that is just about never), when I'm erging* (and I was on erging haitus after the surgery, and still am not up to enough meters to get into a good thinking zone. And by the way, I never erg hard enough to get past the thinking zone, so that explains why I am never in good shape even though I like erging so much), or when I'm writing. (This explains why I need the blog, if there was ever a time for one, it is now, otherwise these thoughts would just stay way down deep inside and make me miserable.) I mostly only know if I'm overwhelmingly sad once the sadness becomes so serious that I can't even move anymore and I have to think my way out of it.
I was in this sad place on the Monday after my second chemo treatment. I didn't have enough energy to do anything or keep busy, I knew I was sad but I couldn't do anything about it. I felt like God did not want me around, and I didn't want me around much, either, since God didn't seem to have a use for me. It was a seriously low point...but then, a small miracle! A coincidence happened that is almost too coincidental to NOT be a small miracle. It seems silly to write it down, but I will anyway...just please don't comment on this if you aren't believing in my small miracle, because I am happy having it be one. It wasn't life changing, it was even more subtle than the other things that have happened in the past.
Here it is - the acupuncturist recommended something to help pull me out of my black mood (I wasn't sure, still don't know if it worked or not), and just before I got home from the acupuncturist, a friend named Laura dropped off that very same herbal treatment on my doorstep...she had gone to the store, and someone there recommended it for me, but the timing of it all was uncanny. The recommendation and the drop off happened at almost the same time.
Also - I have only met Laura twice in real life, at a book club. She's not someone who has become attached to me through years and experiences; she is just an incredibly generous and loving person, a woman with 4 busy and special children at 3 different schools, who is taking time out of her day to think about the random acquaintance that is me, drive to the store, talk to people about what I might need, buy those things, drive all the way to my house, drop things off on my doorstep, and then drive back to her house where she sends me an email that she dropped something off (because she never even rings the doorbell, she doesn't want to disturb me, though she has spent at least an hour and probably more, thinking of me).
Anyway, for me the thing that makes a miracle a miracle is NOT the coincidence that makes you wonder, but the feeling that comes after it happens. When I opened the bag and saw that this "Rescue Remedy" was inside, I did wonder at the coincidence, but I also felt some sort of strange relief from my sadness. I had a feeling that God wasn't so upset with his creation (me) that he had to get rid of it early, I felt like I wasn't worthless to God, or to the earth or to my fellow humans (because part of me knows my family would be fine without me, and since I spend my whole life taking care of them, what does that mean about my worth as a person?). Here is possibly one of the busiest people I have ever met, opening up herself to my problems, and worrying about me, not only just when it fits her schedule, but on the day that I needed it the most. It just seems miraculous, and with the few things I know about Laura I feel like God did pick her to send me a message, and she did, and I am so grateful. If I could be worthwhile to Laura, then maybe I am worthwhile to others who know me even more, and maybe, maybe, I am worthwhile to God. That's a relief.
*Erg is what rowers call the specific rowing machine they use, made by Concept 2. They are called indoor rowers, or rowing ergometers.
**I've been trying to figure out how to write this whole thing for 3 weeks, and didn't even know how to begin to open this thought process in my mind, or how to put it in a way that it could show people that God (or a higher being, if you aren't a person who talks or believes in God with that name, per se) does have a hand in things on this earth. I wish I was even better at expressing this, but today the need to get it all out became even more desperate as Laura left ANOTHER bunch of presents on my porch. I feel I have to write about this, even if I bungle it, just so that God will tell her, it's ok, don't spend any more money on Pam! because though the presents are so wonderful, I want her to feel some relief from worrying about me. I will always feel like Laura was part of a small miracle, I will always know that she is a gift from God to her fellow people (especially me), and I will always be in awe over the small and wonderful things that happened.
***In writing this, I remembered that I do truly believe that God loves people that are imperfect in human terms, and I think it is sometimes even easier to see the love of God through the imperfection of humans. So then I wonder, why did I feel so unloved when smacked right in the face with the evidence that I am faulty and imperfect? I'll have to think about that later, as I've been putting off lunchtime for two very hungry little kids!
6/3/08
She's coming back to life...
I think I did this last round of chemo as well as I could have done it, and the best of any of the rounds so far. First of all, I tried to stay optimistic. Secondly, and maybe most importantly, I decided to NOT take one of the anti-nausea drugs (Decadron, a steroid) though the nurses and my oncologist did not recommend that. I felt a little more queasy this time, but it was never serious, and I avoided some of the nasty side effects like the miserable black depression, the insomnia, the constipation... I think that some people experience nausea worse than I do, because without the extra drug I was more nauseous but I could still eat and didn't vomit, etc. Walking helped so poor Dagny walked a lot on Saturday with me, and sleeping helped so I took a 3 hour nap!
I also had the joy of having my little nephew here for the first days of chemo, and my niece here for the last days of the fallout, so that may have tempered the misery somewhat (and my amazing sisters and brother-in-law). I do really wish I was feeling GREAT when I had the chance to see them, and not yucky and tired, but I'm happy to have the chance at all, and I'm incredibly glad that1) the babies won't remember me being yucky and tired and 2) they aren't scared of my bald head. Emma, Katie and Nathan had the best time with their family...it has been such a blessing to have my sisters and their families around!
I even managed to see Emma at her Middle East feast (My sweet husband went to volunteer in my place! It was so cute to see him there), to be at girls' first swim meet (on Friday night, no less, which isn't an easy night for me), and to hold my nephew on the yucky Saturday, which believe it or not, is a huge accomplishment for yucky Saturday.
- Let me take a little break here to say how proud I am of the girls for their first swim meet of the season, and I'm especially proud of Katie! It was a stretch to put her on the regular team this year, and I knew that but right when I was supposed to be getting her some lessons to be ready for the team I got my diagnosis. I still wanted her to try to be on the team, though as 1) it is fun, and a great way to see other kids and get exercise in the summer 2) she has to go to everything anyway because Emma is on it, and 3) I can't be at the pool all summer, with my bald head and one fake breast, and every 3rd week being a chemo week - so pre-team wasn't an option for her with it's later practices. Anyway, I watched her hang on the wall all week, but when it came time for her races she made it down the lane and got out of the pool with a smile on her face!
So anyway, it is now Tuesday night and while I don't feel perfect, I at least made it. It wasn't as horrible as it has been (chemo week), but let's just say that I really want to vomit if I even think of the oncologist's office, or the IV's, the syringe of horrible red adriamycin is causing me bad flashbacks, and I wouldn't wish TAC chemotherapy on my worst enemy, if I had one. I'm just going to hope to live the next two weeks like I DON'T have to do it again. It's a little bit of a challenge after feeling so dead, to not think of myself as a cancer patient*, or to feel a little sorry for myself! Luckily my aunt reminded me, when I needed it the most, that I'm doing this for insurance, that I'm NOT sick. I should go tell my neighbor that I AM going to make it, after all.
I also had the joy of having my little nephew here for the first days of chemo, and my niece here for the last days of the fallout, so that may have tempered the misery somewhat (and my amazing sisters and brother-in-law). I do really wish I was feeling GREAT when I had the chance to see them, and not yucky and tired, but I'm happy to have the chance at all, and I'm incredibly glad that1) the babies won't remember me being yucky and tired and 2) they aren't scared of my bald head. Emma, Katie and Nathan had the best time with their family...it has been such a blessing to have my sisters and their families around!
I even managed to see Emma at her Middle East feast (My sweet husband went to volunteer in my place! It was so cute to see him there), to be at girls' first swim meet (on Friday night, no less, which isn't an easy night for me), and to hold my nephew on the yucky Saturday, which believe it or not, is a huge accomplishment for yucky Saturday.
- Let me take a little break here to say how proud I am of the girls for their first swim meet of the season, and I'm especially proud of Katie! It was a stretch to put her on the regular team this year, and I knew that but right when I was supposed to be getting her some lessons to be ready for the team I got my diagnosis. I still wanted her to try to be on the team, though as 1) it is fun, and a great way to see other kids and get exercise in the summer 2) she has to go to everything anyway because Emma is on it, and 3) I can't be at the pool all summer, with my bald head and one fake breast, and every 3rd week being a chemo week - so pre-team wasn't an option for her with it's later practices. Anyway, I watched her hang on the wall all week, but when it came time for her races she made it down the lane and got out of the pool with a smile on her face!
So anyway, it is now Tuesday night and while I don't feel perfect, I at least made it. It wasn't as horrible as it has been (chemo week), but let's just say that I really want to vomit if I even think of the oncologist's office, or the IV's, the syringe of horrible red adriamycin is causing me bad flashbacks, and I wouldn't wish TAC chemotherapy on my worst enemy, if I had one. I'm just going to hope to live the next two weeks like I DON'T have to do it again. It's a little bit of a challenge after feeling so dead, to not think of myself as a cancer patient*, or to feel a little sorry for myself! Luckily my aunt reminded me, when I needed it the most, that I'm doing this for insurance, that I'm NOT sick. I should go tell my neighbor that I AM going to make it, after all.
6/1/08
Thank you to Gus and Martin!
Pat and Kathy Westerlund's nephews, Gus and Martin, participated in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure this weekend...Gus wore my name on his sign, and Martin wore Nancy McIntyre's name! If I can figure out how to post the picture, I will post the picture of these wonderful boys...
I think I have a tie for the WORST COMMENT said to me about my breast cancer diagnosis and treatment! The WORST comment (makes me feel better to put it in all caps) was said to me at Emma's First Communion. I believe the person was trying to wish me well when she said, "I hope you make it to ALL of your children's First Communions." (I hope so! Katie's is only 2 years away!)
Here's the newest comment...from a neighbor (distant neighbor) I met today. She was encouraging me to tear out all of the buckthorn in my yard (invasive species) and I mentioned, since I'm sure she saw I was bald under the baseball cap, that I was going through chemo this summer and that I would be doing my best, but probably wouldn't tackle it all this summer. She said she was sorry to hear it, and asked me, "Are you going to make it?" (What I wish I could have said was "I think so, are you?")
Here's the newest comment...from a neighbor (distant neighbor) I met today. She was encouraging me to tear out all of the buckthorn in my yard (invasive species) and I mentioned, since I'm sure she saw I was bald under the baseball cap, that I was going through chemo this summer and that I would be doing my best, but probably wouldn't tackle it all this summer. She said she was sorry to hear it, and asked me, "Are you going to make it?" (What I wish I could have said was "I think so, are you?")
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