I’ve been hesitant to add another post before I know any real news, but I didn’t have a very fun Oncologist appointment last Wednesday. I have been having lung pain, shoulder pain and have a dimple in my right breast. There are so many times I feel like I don’t want to put the burden of the ups and downs of being a young adult dealing with cancer out there for the world to see. But, then I think, so few people know what it is really like. How there are such ups and downs, and how every new pain means another doctor’s appointment where they either tell you “you are crazy”, or send you in for scan with a worried look.
I also fear the whole crowd of people who say that negative thinking (being afraid or stressed) actually causes cancer. As if everyone my age has no worries or sleepless nights and that’s why I got breast cancer and they didn’t.
But, especially now, I am afraid. Not of death, but I am afraid for my husband and children, how hard it would be for them if my cancer returned. Not that I don’t have joy as well and I feel like I am slowly coming to terms with my fears and am able to live through them so they don’t consume me. Mostly, I work hard to be thankful, even of the little things.
Kate was up throwing up Tuesday night. Threw up on our sheets, on my quilt, on me, on the floor several times, but, I am thankful I was able to get any sleep at all and that we had a great day yesterday. Not just a good day, but a great one where we laughed lots and really enjoyed each other. And I try to notice even little pieces of beauty around me: the look of the sky through the branches of tress, the small patches of sunshine in an Oregon winter, fresh eggs from the chickens. God has been so good to me through all this mess.
So, regardless of my fear, tomorrow will come. Tomorrow morning my sister will come to watch the kids, and tomorrow morning I will put on my big girl panties and drive down to Eugene for a breast MRI and mammogram. I don’t know how long it will take to get the results.
My lung and shoulder pain I am enjoining a healthy denial about. I see my oncologist on March 14th
to see if it is getting worse or better. I have decided that since I can run now, (I just ran a mile yesterday!) then it must be nothing. I mean, seriously? A person who can run a mile can’t have metastases right? I am jokingly referring to the stabbing pain in my side as my stigmata, but without
the blood. (I don’t mean that irreverently, or not completely anyway. It was an image I prayed as I was lying awake in the middle of the night in pain. I was trying to picture Jesus on the cross
and realized He was stabbed with a spear in a similar area. I prayed to unite my suffering with His only, could He please not have me bleed on the sheets? We just changed them, thanks. I felt like God and I laughed together. So, this is my joke with Jesus.)
Thanks for reading, caring, and praying for me.
I also fear the whole crowd of people who say that negative thinking (being afraid or stressed) actually causes cancer. As if everyone my age has no worries or sleepless nights and that’s why I got breast cancer and they didn’t.
But, especially now, I am afraid. Not of death, but I am afraid for my husband and children, how hard it would be for them if my cancer returned. Not that I don’t have joy as well and I feel like I am slowly coming to terms with my fears and am able to live through them so they don’t consume me. Mostly, I work hard to be thankful, even of the little things.
Kate was up throwing up Tuesday night. Threw up on our sheets, on my quilt, on me, on the floor several times, but, I am thankful I was able to get any sleep at all and that we had a great day yesterday. Not just a good day, but a great one where we laughed lots and really enjoyed each other. And I try to notice even little pieces of beauty around me: the look of the sky through the branches of tress, the small patches of sunshine in an Oregon winter, fresh eggs from the chickens. God has been so good to me through all this mess.
So, regardless of my fear, tomorrow will come. Tomorrow morning my sister will come to watch the kids, and tomorrow morning I will put on my big girl panties and drive down to Eugene for a breast MRI and mammogram. I don’t know how long it will take to get the results.
My lung and shoulder pain I am enjoining a healthy denial about. I see my oncologist on March 14th
to see if it is getting worse or better. I have decided that since I can run now, (I just ran a mile yesterday!) then it must be nothing. I mean, seriously? A person who can run a mile can’t have metastases right? I am jokingly referring to the stabbing pain in my side as my stigmata, but without
the blood. (I don’t mean that irreverently, or not completely anyway. It was an image I prayed as I was lying awake in the middle of the night in pain. I was trying to picture Jesus on the cross
and realized He was stabbed with a spear in a similar area. I prayed to unite my suffering with His only, could He please not have me bleed on the sheets? We just changed them, thanks. I felt like God and I laughed together. So, this is my joke with Jesus.)
Thanks for reading, caring, and praying for me.
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