All that church!

Two blog posts in a week! What's going on here?! Last week was about cancer, so this week we're going to talk about Jesus. Yippee! I was recently invited to join a women's Bible study, and I was super jazzed about it. I told a friend at work about it, and her response was something like this: "Wait, you go to church Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night, and now Thursday night? That's a lot of church!" But, really, is it? 

Here's what I'm doing. If any of this sounds interesting my local friends are welcome to join me. Sunday mornings is my Young Families class where we are always reading a book (currently, Radical: Taking Back Your Faith From The American Dream by David Platt) and diving into some great content. Right now, we are learning about trusting the Bible. What about all the variations in text, the number of manuscripts, and all the people who would have us not trust the Bible as the inerrant word of God? And then there is the church service and we are just starting a series going through the gospel of John. Sunday nights is our small group where we meet to connect, study, and fellowship. Wednesday night is a class that provides a fascinating exploration of covenant theology and dispensational theology. Thursdays I will be starting a Beth Moore study with a group of women and I am truly excited about developing new relationships and strengthening existing ones. And then every weekday I listen to a podcast on my way to work. Sometimes I zone out, but it helps me to think of things from a Christian worldview. 

Even with all that, I still want more. I want more time to read my Bible, to study, to connect. Why? I was listening to the sermon from last week (making up from being sick) and I got my answer:

People that have received the life crave the word of God like food. You crave and desire to be with the people of God. You crave and desire to come to church on Sunday mornings. To sit with God’s people, to sit under the preaching of the word of God.

Ah, so that’s it! Sometimes I struggle at work, being in an environment that is so secular. I went to a speaker last week, a local oncologist talking with students about how to be good providers. The talk was interesting, simply because his worldview is so incredibly different than mine. I am grateful that as I continue to mature in my own Christian worldview I can think critically about what I'm hearing and seeing in the world.   

And so, doing church things on Sunday, Wednesday and Thursday will never be enough. I will always want more. I want to learn all the things. There is so much I don't know. I dream of inheriting some massive sum of money (like all people!) and being able to stay home and not work. I think about what my day would look like. I'd get Marah off to school, go work out, and then read and study for the rest of the day. And probably take a nap, too. But, until that day, I'll keep working to find time. And, I hope I have lots of it left. 

Being sick as a survivor

Up until this weekend I hadn't been sick since chemo ended. Yes, I've felt bad from surgery and have had the random cold, but overall I have been pretty healthy. I hadn't experienced being truly sick as a cancer survivor. Now, unfortunately, I know that being sick takes on a whole new meaning when you're a survivor.

It all started last week, when Marah had strep throat. The child is a bit like a puppy, jumping on me and practically licking me all the time. So, I wasn't terribly surprised when I realized I had a fever when I was at work on Friday. No big deal, I left early to go to the doctor to get some antibiotics. I actually felt pretty decent and was eager to let the amoxicillin start doing its job. It didn't take long after the first dose for me to start feeling terrible, and I felt worse after the second dose. I am definitely allergic to amoxicillin, so the doctor prescribed me a new antibiotic and zofran. Yes, zofran. The anti-nausea drug that was my best friend during chemo. I didn't think I'd ever see that drug again, but there I was in the Walgreens parking lot ripping the package open as soon as I made it through the drive through.

Being sick has been rough, emotionally. Laying in bed, feeling awful, looking at the same maple tree start to change color that I watched in September 2015, I felt a profound sadness. Everything reminded me of cancer. I reached out to fellow survivors and learned that so many of us struggle when we are sick after cancer. Even being home alone in the middle of the day bothers me now. Most days cancer is such an afterthought but it has been forefront these last few days and I don't like it. I don't like feeling like I did when I was going through chemo. I'm on the mend now (keeping liquids and crackers down, yippee!) and hope it is a long time before sickness comes calling again.

In other news....I still love my church and the great people there, I am traveling for work again, and my hair is looking pretty wonderful. I've been lazy again and the scale tells me I need to work out. Farrell's - while I love it - is just too expensive for our budget. So, I'll find something soon otherwise none of my clothes will fit any more! And, of course, Pinktober is just around the corner but this year, so far, I'm not feeling hostile toward the pink. Maybe this year I will embrace it. Stay tuned!

August

Here we are, already into August. Summer has flown by and has included a fabulous family vacation to Galveston and a trip to Illinois to meet new family. Serious battles with Japanese beetles and powdery mildew. Lots of time in the swimming pool and at Adventureland. Bike rides, walks, and an attempt at being a runner (I think I’ve given up on that). Insanity at work every day but perseverance and appreciation for my job. A challenging and convicting sermon series in Ezra along with an attempt to read a book by a Puritan. And now, August.

August brings so many feelings. Still. Because one is never done with cancer, after all. It is still here. I still think about it daily, but not with the intensity or frequency as before. But August brings a lot of things to the surface. It was when I found my lump. Mammogram, ultrasound, biopsy, diagnosis and mastectomy. It has been almost two years. Sometimes it feels like yesterday, but most of the time it feels like ages ago.  I was recently asked if I feel physically different than before, and I don’t even remember how I felt back in early August, 2015. I think I feel mostly the same, but add in hot flashes, memory problems, hip bursitis, foot cramps, the need for additional sleep, total lack of sensation across my chest (which can be really annoying) and silicone implants. Physically, I think I am the almost same. But everything else is different, and better. I truly understand contentment. I value time and want more of it. In my weakness I was able to understand reliance on Christ and the strength that brings. And I know what matters and what does not.

Looking ahead, I think I am going to embrace the pink this October. I still get annoyed that people make gobs of money off my disease, but it is also an opportunity for me to celebrate. I survived this wretched disease and came out better because of it. 

My goofball family! 

Enough already?

Within the last couple of months my hot flashes have come back with a vengeance. They were very intense when I first started Tamoxifen, then they pretty much stopped. And now they are back. They are terribly uncomfortable but really not a huge deal. A couple weeks ago I was in a meeting at work when a hot flash came along, and my friend sitting next to me started to fan me with some paper while I continued to work on my computer. Another person in the meeting, who is extremely nice but doesn't know me well, remarked that I am "too young" for hot flashes. I responded by saying that it is because of the cancer. All she could say, over and over again, was "haven't you been through enough?" That question has been on my mind ever since she asked it. Have I been through enough already? I think of the growth that came through my cancer experience, and I don't think God is finished with me yet. Do I want to do cancer again? Not at all. But, I know that no matter what comes my way I absolutely trust my life to God. So, have I been through enough? I'm not really sure.

To change the subject completely, let's talk Farrell's. After my last surgery I was super lazy and quit working out for about six months. Last month Jen and I went back to Farrell's. Getting out of bed is harder this time around than it ever was before. I have had to miss quite a few classes because of work, which makes it tougher. But, I do love kickboxing. Today I was punching and kicking away, wearing my pink cancer survivor shirt, when Fight Song by Rachel Platten came on. That song always makes me want to cry. But today I decided to stop the tears and instead to punch harder. To kick harder. To do more sit ups as fast as possible. Because I am a survivor and a pretty tough one at that.

I'm back...not the cancer...just me

There have been a few times over the last many months when I've thought about writing again. I said good-bye to this blog, though, so it seemed a little weird to start again. But I like writing. And even though I live a boring life now (for the most part) I still get the itch to write every once in a while. So, here we go again.

First, let me bring you up to speed on all things cancer. I had a revision surgery back in September. The plastic surgeon tried to fix some puffiness on my side and at the same time did some fat transfers around my implants. I was pretty thrilled with the results of the fat transfer - I really want to do it again! - but the puffiness remains. I'm fine with it in the end, though, and I officially graduated from plastic surgery in January.

I've learned that when you're a cancer survivor small physical ailments quickly turn into a big deal. Last November I had some pain in my armpit. The oncologist ruled out cancer pretty quickly, but before I knew it I was tossed into a double-wide wheelchair and had my entire right arm ultrasounded to rule out blood clots (a potential side effect of my medication). In March I had some abdominal pain and found myself receiving a uterine biopsy and diagnostic ultrasound. It wasn't cancer, but there were areas of increased echotexture indicating possible fibroids (another side effect of my medication). And then today I had a bone scan. I've been having hip pain - pretty intense at some times - and we had to rule out the possibility of cancer finding a new home in my bones. The scan was clean, and the pain could be the result of a number of things. The oncologist's nurse told me to take it easy with kickboxing (hahahaha, that's not going to happen since kicking the bag is about my favorite thing!). All of these episodes were a little stressful, not totally fun, but a reminder that in the end, no matter the result of any test, I will be fine. God's will for my life is good, and perfect, and suffering on my part is an opportunity to glorify him. I'm so glad I have that perspective.

In my Sunday school class we are going through Psalm 139 and I have really been enjoying it. This past week we were in verses 7-12, which focus on God's omnipresence. I love verses 9-10: "If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me." Even when I'm having radioactive material being injected into my vein, when I'm more or less tied down going into a claustrophobic scanning tube, God is there. What comfort that provides!

Okay, friends, I feel better now! Yay for writing, on my deck, with my flowers and my cat and the sunshine and the birds singing.