There is no motivator like intense hopelessness, if you're naturally a hopeful person.
Back in 2008, hubby and I decided to join a gym. We went with one that was close by, had childcare, and gave us many options to get in shape. Much as I would like to say we started our exercise regimen and stuck with it faithfully, the reality was we were often too tired to make it for a workout.
Yet, funny how things turn out because I was having one of the worst teaching years ever in my almost fifteen year career. There are some groups of students you just don't click with, and this was one of two in my teaching career I dreaded working with daily. Don't get me wrong, there were some amazing kids in this student group, but there were also some that delighted in causing as much mischief as they possibly could.
I was miserable, felt out of control and at the end of my rope. So I began getting serious about something I could control--making time for the gym. I'd heard at some point that exercise was an excellent stress reliever, and though I thought it was a long shot, I decided to give exercise a try. At least two or three times a week, I would jump on the elliptical and do my best to push my stress out with the sweat.
As I got into a habit, I noticed I missed the activity if I didn't make it to the gym, and eventually, I was going four to five times a week. My school year wasn't getting better unfortunately, but my anxiety level dropped. The most beneficial part of adding an exercise routine started about six weeks into this major change in my life and continued for the next six months--I lost about twenty-five pounds.
It was awesome. Everyone noticed--co-workers, family (especially hubby), and I noticed.
My stomach was getting flatter, my hips were getting narrower, and even my breasts were fitting in my bras and button-down shirts better. I was excited to keep working toward my ideal weight.
Then, in September 2009, I was showering, and the thought popped into my head that I hadn't completed a self-exam on my breasts for years. Yes, years. It's easy just to go through your routine and think things will always be the way they've always been. Why I thought to do a self-exam at that moment, I don't know. I like to think it was an intervention from God. I wasn't exaggerating when I said, I hadn't purposely examined my breasts for years, and though I'd been to my regular appointments, I hadn't since I'd begun to lose weight.
It was completely unexpected (I mean who really expects it?), but sure enough, I found a lump in my left breast. Maybe it was because I'd lost so much weight that it was so noticeable to me now, but there it was--undeniably a golf ball size lump.
Two things about that time continue to make me wonder. My weight-loss, though originally motivated by a tough day job, was probably the key to my being able to feel the lump, and the fact something greater than myself inspired me to find the lump.
Hard times might just be your wake-up call. And, of course, listen to that little whispering voice. It might just save your life.
More to come,
Sherry
Showing posts with label Breast Cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breast Cancer. Show all posts
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Friday, December 30, 2011
It's About Time
To say it's been awhile since I last posted is an understatement and a half, but my goal was to begin writing about my recent experience with breast cancer, and honestly, I don't think I was really ready.
Truth be told, given a hundred years to process that time in my life, I don't think I would still be ready, but I'm forging ahead anyway with the hopes that someday, someone reads this and it gives them a little hope to hold on to.
Where to begin was a little tricky. Sure, I could start with the day I first discovered a lump in my breast or I could talk about the day I was diagnosed, but to really understand the devastation of the experience I needed to begin much earlier.
I had just finished my first undergraduate year at Eastern Kentucky University and was excited to begin my second summer as a camp cook at Aldersgate United Methodist Church Camp. The previous summer had been one I would never forget, and I expected nothing less of the upcoming one. Boy, was that calling the spring grass green. I met my future husband that summer, and eighteen years and three children later, he's still my unforgettable hero.
At the time though, we were young, felt immortal, and rushed headlong into a romance. As we grew closer, he told me his mother had battled cancer five years earlier, but that she was doing fine now. Unfortunately, that changed very quickly in the fall. I met her once. Actually sat down and had a conversation with her. I remember she had short, dark hair, a kind face, and a powerful love for her family.
One month later, she passed. The cancer returned with a vengeance and took her very quickly. It was a sad time for all. I was there to support my then boyfriend as he went through the visitation and funeral. My heart broke for his father, sister and him as they grieved, and though I knew there was nothing I could say or do to make things better, I attempted to be there for my boyfriend.
Looking back, two things about that time stand out to me now. One rainy evening about a month after her death, I was driving to a creative writing class and had a fender bender. After the police and insurance reporting was over, I skipped my class and went to my boyfriend's house to wait for him to arrive. While there, I called my mother and gave her a tearful explanation of what had happened, after which I sat with my now father-in-law and apologized for crying. He gave me a slight smile and said, "That's okay. I've cried a little myself today." Perspective in a second.
Unfortunately, the other thing that I remember about this time is that my future husband and I broke up. We decided not to see each other any more. He was sad, very sad, and though I'd tried to be supportive, he needed time alone. I, of course, understood, though my heart was devastated.
Believe it or not, a month later, we were together again, and I had no lingering doubts about the relationship. We were meant to be together. I still feel I could search the world over and never find anyone as perfect for me than him. He has proven time and time again that love is a very real and powerful force, and I thank God He brought us together.
So, this is where I knew I had to start. That time was a roller-coaster of emotion, but without this backstory, meaning about my personal struggle with breast cancer years later would be lost.
Until next time,
Sherry
Truth be told, given a hundred years to process that time in my life, I don't think I would still be ready, but I'm forging ahead anyway with the hopes that someday, someone reads this and it gives them a little hope to hold on to.
Where to begin was a little tricky. Sure, I could start with the day I first discovered a lump in my breast or I could talk about the day I was diagnosed, but to really understand the devastation of the experience I needed to begin much earlier.
I had just finished my first undergraduate year at Eastern Kentucky University and was excited to begin my second summer as a camp cook at Aldersgate United Methodist Church Camp. The previous summer had been one I would never forget, and I expected nothing less of the upcoming one. Boy, was that calling the spring grass green. I met my future husband that summer, and eighteen years and three children later, he's still my unforgettable hero.
At the time though, we were young, felt immortal, and rushed headlong into a romance. As we grew closer, he told me his mother had battled cancer five years earlier, but that she was doing fine now. Unfortunately, that changed very quickly in the fall. I met her once. Actually sat down and had a conversation with her. I remember she had short, dark hair, a kind face, and a powerful love for her family.
One month later, she passed. The cancer returned with a vengeance and took her very quickly. It was a sad time for all. I was there to support my then boyfriend as he went through the visitation and funeral. My heart broke for his father, sister and him as they grieved, and though I knew there was nothing I could say or do to make things better, I attempted to be there for my boyfriend.
Looking back, two things about that time stand out to me now. One rainy evening about a month after her death, I was driving to a creative writing class and had a fender bender. After the police and insurance reporting was over, I skipped my class and went to my boyfriend's house to wait for him to arrive. While there, I called my mother and gave her a tearful explanation of what had happened, after which I sat with my now father-in-law and apologized for crying. He gave me a slight smile and said, "That's okay. I've cried a little myself today." Perspective in a second.
Unfortunately, the other thing that I remember about this time is that my future husband and I broke up. We decided not to see each other any more. He was sad, very sad, and though I'd tried to be supportive, he needed time alone. I, of course, understood, though my heart was devastated.
Believe it or not, a month later, we were together again, and I had no lingering doubts about the relationship. We were meant to be together. I still feel I could search the world over and never find anyone as perfect for me than him. He has proven time and time again that love is a very real and powerful force, and I thank God He brought us together.
So, this is where I knew I had to start. That time was a roller-coaster of emotion, but without this backstory, meaning about my personal struggle with breast cancer years later would be lost.
Until next time,
Sherry
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Things You Might Want to Know and Some Things You Probably Don't
I had the big C. Whew! Not a good time in my life.
Specifically, I had breast cancer, and my treatment consisted of a mastectomy, chemotherapy, radiation, and five years of Tamoxifen.
Now, I'm not going to lie. I was strong. I faced it all with my eyes on a future without cancer. Not because I'm naturally a strong person (most definitely not true), not because I suddenly found strength, not even because I was completely confident I would make it through it all, but I was strong because I'm a wife to an amazing husband and mother to three children--the oldest of which is just now a teenager (although she acted like she achieved that age a whole lot earlier) and the youngest just finished kindergarten.
Plain and simple--there was no other option.
Now I'm a year cancer-free (I love saying that), and I thought it was time to begin living my faith that God would provide a cancer-free future for a long time to come. So, I consulted a highly recommended plastic surgeon about breast reconstruction surgery. After speaking with her extensively, I elected to undergo a Tram-Flap Reconstruction.
As usual, it hasn't been easy. There have been complications, so over the next few blog posts, I'm going to use this space to explain my decisions, the process, the complications, and maybe answer some questions for anyone out there trying to make decisions of their own or those that are just curious.
This is what is swirling around in my mind right now, so I'm going to use this space to get those thoughts, fears, and musings out. Maybe then I'll free up some space in the old noggin for some lighter topics.
Until then...
Happy Writing!
Specifically, I had breast cancer, and my treatment consisted of a mastectomy, chemotherapy, radiation, and five years of Tamoxifen.
Now, I'm not going to lie. I was strong. I faced it all with my eyes on a future without cancer. Not because I'm naturally a strong person (most definitely not true), not because I suddenly found strength, not even because I was completely confident I would make it through it all, but I was strong because I'm a wife to an amazing husband and mother to three children--the oldest of which is just now a teenager (although she acted like she achieved that age a whole lot earlier) and the youngest just finished kindergarten.
Plain and simple--there was no other option.
Now I'm a year cancer-free (I love saying that), and I thought it was time to begin living my faith that God would provide a cancer-free future for a long time to come. So, I consulted a highly recommended plastic surgeon about breast reconstruction surgery. After speaking with her extensively, I elected to undergo a Tram-Flap Reconstruction.
As usual, it hasn't been easy. There have been complications, so over the next few blog posts, I'm going to use this space to explain my decisions, the process, the complications, and maybe answer some questions for anyone out there trying to make decisions of their own or those that are just curious.
This is what is swirling around in my mind right now, so I'm going to use this space to get those thoughts, fears, and musings out. Maybe then I'll free up some space in the old noggin for some lighter topics.
Until then...
Happy Writing!
Monday, August 1, 2011
Complications
Still kicking after all these complications, except I'm dealing with medical issues again. Three weeks ago, I elected to have a breast reconstruction surgery. It was supposed to be the happy ending to my breast cancer story. Everything seemed to be going well, until it swelled. That went down eventually, but then it began to get infected. So that's where I am now--another complication. And all along the way, little complications keep coming. But what can I do? People tell me I'm strong, that I'm a trouper who has gone through so much, but the truth is, there is no other option. I have to keep praying, hoping, and trying until things work out. And they will. That's where my strength truly comes in. I don't let myself think of any other option than things working out.
I can't help relating my medical struggle to the ultimate goal of being published in book-length fiction. You see, I take chances, write a piece in which I have confidence, then put it out in front of others to see the reactions. Along the way, there are complications--big and small--and my ability to push through the blocks, the lack of time, the unfortunate medical issues, the plot bunnies, or whatever happens to get in the way of the story is what will ultimately lead to success. Regardless of all these possible problems, I don't let any other option other than pushing through and getting published even become a possibility.
Complications are going to happen, but they're merely bumps in the road. Never full stops.
Happy Writing!
I can't help relating my medical struggle to the ultimate goal of being published in book-length fiction. You see, I take chances, write a piece in which I have confidence, then put it out in front of others to see the reactions. Along the way, there are complications--big and small--and my ability to push through the blocks, the lack of time, the unfortunate medical issues, the plot bunnies, or whatever happens to get in the way of the story is what will ultimately lead to success. Regardless of all these possible problems, I don't let any other option other than pushing through and getting published even become a possibility.
Complications are going to happen, but they're merely bumps in the road. Never full stops.
Happy Writing!
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Perspective
So many times I am reminded just how blessed I truly am. Today was one of those days.
I had a great check-up with my oncologist today. Everything looked great. However, while waiting for my appointment (bloodwork an hour before, then wait), an older gentlemen struck up a conversation. He was there for a follow-up from his first chemo treatment.
At first he was shocked that I had gone through cancer treatment. Then he was excited to see me this far removed from my treatment and looking well. He told the CPN later that it had given him hope.
The whole conversation was very uplifting. He'd lost so much already--his voice had changed, his speech was slightly slurred, but we laughed and talked like friends rather than patients waiting for our turn. As the conversation continued, he mentioned he didn't have any family. Ironically, the event that started our interaction was a large family going back with a patient. Nothing like a little perspective to remind you how blessed you really are. I don't know how I would have coped without my very supportive family while I was going through everything last year and the year before.
We finished our talk on a positive note. He asked how I'd kept busy during the time when I was sick. I explained that I wrote a novel. One that will never see the light of day, but it was something that kept me busy, focused, and made my time feel worthwhile. I told him that even if what I was writing wasn't the best stuff, I kept on writing, and I'm proud of that time and what came out of it.
Unfortunately, I got called back to see the doctor, and when I came out, he was gone, and I don't even know his name. But it got me thinking. I now have a school counseling degree, but with 12 more credit hours, I will be able to take a licensure test to become a certified mental health counselor. If I make it that far, it wouldn't be a bad thing to be there for those who don't have anyone else. Most cancer centers have social workers now, but I don't know if they have any links to mental health counselors. That would be something to work toward. It would be a way for me to give back for all my many blessings.
Happy Writing!
I had a great check-up with my oncologist today. Everything looked great. However, while waiting for my appointment (bloodwork an hour before, then wait), an older gentlemen struck up a conversation. He was there for a follow-up from his first chemo treatment.
At first he was shocked that I had gone through cancer treatment. Then he was excited to see me this far removed from my treatment and looking well. He told the CPN later that it had given him hope.
The whole conversation was very uplifting. He'd lost so much already--his voice had changed, his speech was slightly slurred, but we laughed and talked like friends rather than patients waiting for our turn. As the conversation continued, he mentioned he didn't have any family. Ironically, the event that started our interaction was a large family going back with a patient. Nothing like a little perspective to remind you how blessed you really are. I don't know how I would have coped without my very supportive family while I was going through everything last year and the year before.
We finished our talk on a positive note. He asked how I'd kept busy during the time when I was sick. I explained that I wrote a novel. One that will never see the light of day, but it was something that kept me busy, focused, and made my time feel worthwhile. I told him that even if what I was writing wasn't the best stuff, I kept on writing, and I'm proud of that time and what came out of it.
Unfortunately, I got called back to see the doctor, and when I came out, he was gone, and I don't even know his name. But it got me thinking. I now have a school counseling degree, but with 12 more credit hours, I will be able to take a licensure test to become a certified mental health counselor. If I make it that far, it wouldn't be a bad thing to be there for those who don't have anyone else. Most cancer centers have social workers now, but I don't know if they have any links to mental health counselors. That would be something to work toward. It would be a way for me to give back for all my many blessings.
Happy Writing!
Monday, March 14, 2011
Monday Musings
I can't imagine the devastation that Japan is experiencing currently. My thoughts and prayers are with the people there. Cancer taught much about appreciation for life as I know it, but it also gave me perspective. I am blessed by modern medicine, by my friends and family, and by God. Yet that doesn't mean bad things don't happen to good people. Now, I am far from perfect, but I have always tried to do the right thing, and even through many good decisions that led to great opportunities in my life, I still developed a life-threatening disease.
It's hard to explain to some why I still expect good things to happen in my life. Some would just take the pessimistic viewpoint and expect the worst at every turn, and I'm not going to lie, those thoughts have occurred to me, but I've never been one to stay down long. And I certainly hope to be able to help any way I can to assist the people of Japan as they get back on their feet again.
It's hard to explain to some why I still expect good things to happen in my life. Some would just take the pessimistic viewpoint and expect the worst at every turn, and I'm not going to lie, those thoughts have occurred to me, but I've never been one to stay down long. And I certainly hope to be able to help any way I can to assist the people of Japan as they get back on their feet again.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Recuperating
I had an outpatient surgery today, but good new--no malignancies. Needless to say, I am resting and relaxing today, but the amazing, wonderful doctor said I'll be recovered in a week.
Thanks goes to God for the good news. I praise him for his many blessings in my life.
Now, the good medicine is kicking in, so time for bed.
Happy Writing!
Thanks goes to God for the good news. I praise him for his many blessings in my life.
Now, the good medicine is kicking in, so time for bed.
Happy Writing!
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Trimming the Fat
The Holidays were more fun than a squirrel in a nut factory. My kids are at just the right ages to keep us all entertained and young at heart. What a joy it was to have a happy and healthy time with my family and friends!
Many in my family just happen to be great cooks, and I must admit, though I thought I was eating carefully, I overdid it a little and gained a little weight. Okay, a lot of weight! In spring and summer 2009, I actually lost about 25 pounds. It was great to work toward a goal with diet and exercise. I got to the point that I missed going to the gym. No, not skipped, but longed to work out. I know! I had heard of people like that, but I never thought it would happen to me.
Turns out, slimming down was a great thing. Not only did I fit into my clothes better, but without a doubt, thanks to a little less padding, I was able to feel the lump in my left breast. Getting serious about my diet and exercise prolonged my life.
However, due to my chemotherapy treatment (the anti-nausea medication worked really well toward the end), I actually gained weight.
Now it's time to trim the fat. I am back in the workout saddle, and eating balanced meals and snacks (including fruits and veggies).
The good news to me is that I have apparently inspired my husband to get healthy with me, and he is starting to get that stir-crazy feeling when he doesn't make it to the gym regularly. Oh, yeah! Working my magic muscle-head mo-jo on him.
Who knows? This time next year, I might just be svelte (I've heard that's good). Now if I could just figure out how to put my manuscripts on an overhaul plan, maybe I could be published by this time next year too.
Happy writing!
Many in my family just happen to be great cooks, and I must admit, though I thought I was eating carefully, I overdid it a little and gained a little weight. Okay, a lot of weight! In spring and summer 2009, I actually lost about 25 pounds. It was great to work toward a goal with diet and exercise. I got to the point that I missed going to the gym. No, not skipped, but longed to work out. I know! I had heard of people like that, but I never thought it would happen to me.
Turns out, slimming down was a great thing. Not only did I fit into my clothes better, but without a doubt, thanks to a little less padding, I was able to feel the lump in my left breast. Getting serious about my diet and exercise prolonged my life.
However, due to my chemotherapy treatment (the anti-nausea medication worked really well toward the end), I actually gained weight.
Now it's time to trim the fat. I am back in the workout saddle, and eating balanced meals and snacks (including fruits and veggies).
The good news to me is that I have apparently inspired my husband to get healthy with me, and he is starting to get that stir-crazy feeling when he doesn't make it to the gym regularly. Oh, yeah! Working my magic muscle-head mo-jo on him.
Who knows? This time next year, I might just be svelte (I've heard that's good). Now if I could just figure out how to put my manuscripts on an overhaul plan, maybe I could be published by this time next year too.
Happy writing!
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Good News! And Ladies' Night ;O)
I have officially finished seeing "all my doctors" (sounds like a bad 80's soap opera) for my check-ups and every one has said that I am doing well. Can I get a woot! woot! Needless to say, I was anxious, but I am happily relieved and feeling very blessed.
So, in celebration, I called in a cleaning service. I deserved a little pampering. Here are the employees they sent over:
So, in celebration, I called in a cleaning service. I deserved a little pampering. Here are the employees they sent over:
Wouldn't it be cool if this impossible scenario were in fact possible? Seriously though, my family and I (including the real sexy hero in my life--Sharky) are going out to celebrate tomorrow night! Exciting!
Happy writing!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Tough Week
The ebb and flow of blessings and curses is definitely on a downswing right now. This was a very difficult week. I had a presentation to prepare and give, which I abhor! I would rather dance through oncoming traffic than present something in front of colleagues. The blessing: it went well, and I got compliments. The curse: it took up a majority of my free time to prepare.
Unfortunately, we received some bad news early in the week. One of my daughter's friends at school had a mother who was very ill. She died this week. It was breast cancer. I prayed for the family and my husband and daughter went to the visitation. But I'm too close to this not to think about my own situation. She was 45. It was one year ago today that I went for a mammogram, ultrasound, and biopsy, leading to 9 months of treatment for breast cancer. Needless to say, I am distressed about this whole situation. It brings up so many of my own fears about leaving my children behind before I feel ready (are we really ever ready, though?). My 12-year-old daughter is also struggling with the passing. She feels like she really needs to be there for her friend, but she's also anxious about our own situation. I listen to her fears, and assure her we are doing everything we are supposed to do, but I can't say with 100% definitiveness that there won't be a recurrence. I will do my best to be vigilant, if not for me, then for my children and husband.
Of course, to continue the downing of the week, I had a rather eye-opening meeting about a problem student. Let's just say, if I had the same situation, I'd be acting out my anger inappropriately too. It brings up a serious issue. Why is it that low socio-economic means suck it up, we can't do anything but give you a band-aid? This kid should have gotten serious help early on.
So, needless to say, my writing has been little to none. I see my NaNoWriMo dreams slipping away unless I get a chance to write all day and all night some time soon. Hope things are going better for you.
Unfortunately, we received some bad news early in the week. One of my daughter's friends at school had a mother who was very ill. She died this week. It was breast cancer. I prayed for the family and my husband and daughter went to the visitation. But I'm too close to this not to think about my own situation. She was 45. It was one year ago today that I went for a mammogram, ultrasound, and biopsy, leading to 9 months of treatment for breast cancer. Needless to say, I am distressed about this whole situation. It brings up so many of my own fears about leaving my children behind before I feel ready (are we really ever ready, though?). My 12-year-old daughter is also struggling with the passing. She feels like she really needs to be there for her friend, but she's also anxious about our own situation. I listen to her fears, and assure her we are doing everything we are supposed to do, but I can't say with 100% definitiveness that there won't be a recurrence. I will do my best to be vigilant, if not for me, then for my children and husband.
Of course, to continue the downing of the week, I had a rather eye-opening meeting about a problem student. Let's just say, if I had the same situation, I'd be acting out my anger inappropriately too. It brings up a serious issue. Why is it that low socio-economic means suck it up, we can't do anything but give you a band-aid? This kid should have gotten serious help early on.
So, needless to say, my writing has been little to none. I see my NaNoWriMo dreams slipping away unless I get a chance to write all day and all night some time soon. Hope things are going better for you.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Mulling Things Over
I have mentioned before that I am a recent breast cancer survivor, as in, I finished chemo in April and radiation in July. And to be perfectly honest, I am still processing what happened. That sounds so together and spoken like a true counselor, but in reality, it's my easy way of saying, "Don't want to ride that crazy train again!" But often, just when I get back into my life groove, something sparks a reminder, and I have to figure out how it all fits together.
My very dear, darling, baby sister struggled through much of this year with me, and as soon as she saw the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure fundraiser was beginning, she pushed me to start a team. Two weeks later, I did. It took me that long to get through the anxiety about having to talk about my situation in order to raise money for the worthy cause. What? Kind of pretentious, huh? Maybe at face value, but I am a muller (I need to mull things over), and believe it or not, if I'm going to be noticed, I want it to be for the right reasons. Any attention makes me nervous. It's not that I don't like it. I just get anxious.
Now I'm excited and I've sent out e-mails to bring my participation to people's attention, so they can donate if they would like. Oh, by the by, if you would like to donate to my team "I Pink, Therefore I Am," please go to http://www.komenlexington.org/site/PageServer?pagename=home. I would appreciate your generosity.
Yet it's not all positive, at least to me. Often people say things in a very, very uplifting and positive way, and they definitely mean everything from the heart. What I'm trying to say before I get to my point is that the blame is all mine in how I take it in.
One of the kindest people I have ever met was trying to explain that she was glad I was *here.* In order to get to that, she explained that she'd lost her sister-in-law a few years ago. I take that very seriously. I expressed my very real sympathy, and tried to gracefully excuse myself. But she went on to say she was okay with her sister-in-law's passing because, in her mind, what they learned from that saved my life. She is right. They learn from every failure as well as each success, but my heart broke. My own mother-in-law died from breast cancer, and that loss was devastating. I don't want to piggyback on that misery. I can't celebrate that.
Of course, I was gracious and smiled. That was the right thing to do, and I'm all about doing the right thing, and I know she only meant well.
To end positively, I have also been told, at another time, that I'm a walking miracle. At first, I cringed. I'm just me, and the reason I'm still walking is because of my doctors and God (thus the miracle, Sherry, duh). So I mulled this over and realized, it's not all about me. If someone wants to call me a walking miracle whether I had anything to do with it or not, then there it is--I'm a walking miracle. Thank you, Good Lord above!
This blog is obviously very personal, and has been mulling around in my brain for a couple weeks (yep, that's me). The point is, in time, I will know how to talk about breast cancer. I am now coming out of my keep-it-in phase, and I can ease up on letting my heart hear others' words in it's own twisted way. Life is too important to be wasting much time mulling, so cue end of blog. :0)
My very dear, darling, baby sister struggled through much of this year with me, and as soon as she saw the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure fundraiser was beginning, she pushed me to start a team. Two weeks later, I did. It took me that long to get through the anxiety about having to talk about my situation in order to raise money for the worthy cause. What? Kind of pretentious, huh? Maybe at face value, but I am a muller (I need to mull things over), and believe it or not, if I'm going to be noticed, I want it to be for the right reasons. Any attention makes me nervous. It's not that I don't like it. I just get anxious.
Now I'm excited and I've sent out e-mails to bring my participation to people's attention, so they can donate if they would like. Oh, by the by, if you would like to donate to my team "I Pink, Therefore I Am," please go to http://www.komenlexington.org/site/PageServer?pagename=home. I would appreciate your generosity.
Yet it's not all positive, at least to me. Often people say things in a very, very uplifting and positive way, and they definitely mean everything from the heart. What I'm trying to say before I get to my point is that the blame is all mine in how I take it in.
One of the kindest people I have ever met was trying to explain that she was glad I was *here.* In order to get to that, she explained that she'd lost her sister-in-law a few years ago. I take that very seriously. I expressed my very real sympathy, and tried to gracefully excuse myself. But she went on to say she was okay with her sister-in-law's passing because, in her mind, what they learned from that saved my life. She is right. They learn from every failure as well as each success, but my heart broke. My own mother-in-law died from breast cancer, and that loss was devastating. I don't want to piggyback on that misery. I can't celebrate that.
Of course, I was gracious and smiled. That was the right thing to do, and I'm all about doing the right thing, and I know she only meant well.
To end positively, I have also been told, at another time, that I'm a walking miracle. At first, I cringed. I'm just me, and the reason I'm still walking is because of my doctors and God (thus the miracle, Sherry, duh). So I mulled this over and realized, it's not all about me. If someone wants to call me a walking miracle whether I had anything to do with it or not, then there it is--I'm a walking miracle. Thank you, Good Lord above!
This blog is obviously very personal, and has been mulling around in my brain for a couple weeks (yep, that's me). The point is, in time, I will know how to talk about breast cancer. I am now coming out of my keep-it-in phase, and I can ease up on letting my heart hear others' words in it's own twisted way. Life is too important to be wasting much time mulling, so cue end of blog. :0)
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Real Life Invades
I am now touching down with my ruby slippers and unfortunately, wishing I could go back to Emerald City. Real life has invaded with a vengeance, and I haven't even been able to check my e-mail, blog, or duh, duh, duh...write.
Where are my priorities? This is a job after all, but so is teaching (which so far is going really well) and so is being a mom and wife (whew! I need overtime for that one).
All three of my wee (and big) kiddos as well as the hubby are back in school. Therefore, the sacrifices are being made, and I am doing so with a smile (most of the time). I am also being tempted by a large box of gleaming, sparkly, author-signed books that I collected at RWA National 2010. So far, I have resisted all but one (daily) slip for all of 10 or 90 minutes. Oh, and don't get me started with my latest obsession with True Blood. Somebody has got to get me an intervention. I am well and truly addicted.
Anyway, I have to write. I have set a deadline to get my short done by the end of September (finished manuscript, ready to send), so anyone got a ball and chain to which I can shackle myself. Perhaps, someone might have a whip or two? Despite the sudden turn, I am not writing bondage.
In other news, my doctor says that I am healthy as of now, and I am dutifully taking my Tamoxifen, despite the oh-so-badly-timed hot flashes, headaches, and maybe brain fog (? :/ ). But I know what I have to do, and I plan to make it all five years taking this medicine. Here's to perserverance (as I lift my glass of healthy orange juice).
Happy writing!
Where are my priorities? This is a job after all, but so is teaching (which so far is going really well) and so is being a mom and wife (whew! I need overtime for that one).
All three of my wee (and big) kiddos as well as the hubby are back in school. Therefore, the sacrifices are being made, and I am doing so with a smile (most of the time). I am also being tempted by a large box of gleaming, sparkly, author-signed books that I collected at RWA National 2010. So far, I have resisted all but one (daily) slip for all of 10 or 90 minutes. Oh, and don't get me started with my latest obsession with True Blood. Somebody has got to get me an intervention. I am well and truly addicted.
Anyway, I have to write. I have set a deadline to get my short done by the end of September (finished manuscript, ready to send), so anyone got a ball and chain to which I can shackle myself. Perhaps, someone might have a whip or two? Despite the sudden turn, I am not writing bondage.
In other news, my doctor says that I am healthy as of now, and I am dutifully taking my Tamoxifen, despite the oh-so-badly-timed hot flashes, headaches, and maybe brain fog (? :/ ). But I know what I have to do, and I plan to make it all five years taking this medicine. Here's to perserverance (as I lift my glass of healthy orange juice).
Happy writing!
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