Choose life

Yesterday my youngest daughter came to spend the weekend with us. It's always a joy to have her come; she's so full of energy and loves life so much. It was amazing how the atmosphere in our home changed when she arrived. Before she came, everything was so relaxed and peaceful. From the moment she walked in the door, expectation filled the air.

Oh to be young again and to be filled with a zest for life! I watched as she rolled her suitcase into her bedroom and came back into the living room. Immediately she began talking a mile a minute telling me about what's been going on in her life. I loved it! I hung on her every word. Her enthusiasm reminded me that I too, needed to be excited about life.

As I watched Jamie, I realized I had been experiencing a little depression. I knew I hadn't dealt with it, because when she asked me to go to town with her, I cringed. I felt safe at home. I didn't have to see anyone and no one had to see me. At home, I didn't have to worry about people staring at my flat chest.

Before Jamie even arrived, I had gone into my bedroom and put on my new silicone boobs. The mastectomy bra and the prostheses had been lying there since I picked them up last week. As I slipped the bra over my shoulders, I was astounded by their heaviness. I was unable to hook the bra myself because my arms won't bend that way yet, so I had to ask my husband to help. "Here, hold these!" I exclaimed to him, as I handed him the bra with the fake boobs inserted in it. "Wow, that's heavy," he said. "Yes," I said, "I don't know if I can wear this very long."

After hooking my bra for me, my husband returned to the living room. I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked pretty normal. I put a T shirt on and as I walked to the bedroom again, realized how uncomfortable I was at that moment. The fake boobs were so heavy and the bra was really pulling on my incisions. "Come help me get this thing off!" I yelled to my husband. He quickly came from the other room and I explained that I just couldn't do it yet. We removed the bra and I placed the prostheses gently back into their little pink pill boxes.

Jamie finally convinced me to go with her into town. She wanted to go get her nose re-pierced. She'd found a shop in Senoia that was open and had a good price for piercing. We drove about 20 or more miles and on the way, I told her that I wouldn't go in, that I would just stay in the car and wait for her. She asked me why and I told her I was self conscious. I didn't want people to see me without my boobs. She exclaimed, "oh Mom! No one's even going to pay any attention to your chest!" She persisted and finally, I caved in and went with her to the little tattoo/piercing shop. As I walked down the sidewalk to the shop, I was constantly using my arms to shield my chest from the view of passersby.

In the shop, there were several people in their mid to late 20's. There was a different type of energy surrounding them, they were all excited and all full of life. They were upbeat and happy. I watched them curiously as we waited. Why was I feeling self conscious and uncomfortable among these kids who were so open and free about expressing themselves?

The piercer came to get Jamie and as he held the door open for her to enter his little room; he continued to hold it even after she passed. He looked at me and invited me to come on back too if I wanted to join them. Hesitantly, I walked with them, trying to remain unseen. I stood in the doorway as the piercer did his work on Jamie. The entire time she was being worked on, I stood where no one passing behind me could see my chest. I was so thankful the piercer hadn't noticed my chest and that his back was turned toward me as he worked. At least now I could relax just a little.

When Jamie was finished, we went up to the front counter to pay. As we walked past other customers, I subconsciously shielded my chest with my arms. I continued to do this as we walked back to the car. Once inside the car, I felt safe and let my arms fall at my sides. How could I get past this? Was I always going to feel subhuman?

Driving back home, Jamie flipped on the CD player in her car. An upbeat song began to play and I realized that since surgery, I'd been living my life like a 33 1/3 record instead of like a CD!  I didn't want to give up and give in. I didn't want to let these feelings of being "less than" control my life. I wanted to live my life to the fullest! I've always done that in the past, so why now, was I choosing to live in a defeated state? Was I willing to let my lack of breasts destroy me? No! Was I willing to stay down in the dumps and blue? No! Well, then...what was I going to do about it?

I thought back to the kids in the piercing shop. They were exuberant. Sure, I know some of them were hiding behind their piercings or using them to express their feelings, but at least they were living. They weren't choosing to hide in a corner away from the gaze of others. In fact, they wanted to be seen! They wanted people to stare at their piercings and tattoos. They were bold! They grabbed life with gusto!

We pulled into the driveway and went inside the house. Jamie went to clean up her nose a little with some saline solution. I went in to talk with my husband and see how the football team was doing as he watched the game on TV. When Jamie came back into the living room and sat down, I watched her. She plopped down on the sofa and whipped out her cell phone. She was comfortable in her skin. She wasn't depressed or worried. She had chosen life.

Was I going to give up and lose hope all because I had no breasts? Was I going to continue to hole up and hide inside my safe space at home? Was I going to develop full blown agoraphobia? I didn't know the answer to any of those questions. I didn't want to feel self conscious and inadequate, but I did. I didn't want to stay at home all day long and not have interaction with others, but I did. I hope I don't develop full blown agoraphobia, but I might. My grandmother had it and was perfectly happy being at home in a safe environment.

I know it's not healthy to feel this way. I know it. But the reality of the situation right now is that I do feel this way. I do feel like a sideshow freak. I do feel inadequate. I do feel less than others. The faith filled side of me knows I am to walk in truth and the truth of the matter is that even though I have Cancer, I can rise above it and keep going. I can choose to live. The human side of me, the fleshly side, feels trapped inside my body. I feel like my confidence was lost when my breasts were removed. I struggle daily to find a healthy balance between those two sets of feelings...between faith and flesh. Some days I allow Christ to be my strength when I am weak and some days I don't. I'm human. I fail. The only difference is, I know the real truth and I know that with God I can overcome anything...it's just hard sometimes. No one gives you an instruction manual when you're diagnosed with Cancer. No one says you'll experience this..., it's normal to feel this way when..., nothing. They give you nothing. You have to figure it our yourself and if you don't have a strong spiritual background, you can forget it! Even with it, you'll experience days of depression and hopelessness. The difference is, you won't stay there. You'll pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again. You'll learn to forgive yourself when you feel confused about life. You'll be a little less hard on yourself when you're having a bad day. You'll make it.

I don't want to feel hopeless or helpless. I don't want to feel worthless. When I listen to the lies Satan whispers in my ear, though, this is what I hear. I have to choose which voice I want to listen to...do I want to listen to words of hope and affirmation or words of death and destruction? I want to live. I want to choose life. I want to always listen to God's words that fill my heart with His life and His hope. I want to hear Him whispering, "you are lovely...you are mine....you are beautiful...there is hope...I'm not finished with you yet!" Those words are filled with life.

Daily I struggle. I will admit that. I'd love to give everyone the impression that all is well and I'm doing fine, but that's not the truth. There are days when I am focused and walking in faith but there are also days when I am hurting deeply feeling I'm worth nothing. I wasn't going to admit this to you. In fact, I had written a perfectly wonderful blog post and put it up on the internet before now. I had walked away and was in my room making my bed when I heard the Holy Spirit speaking to my heart..."go in there and change your post. Tell them how you really feel. Let them know you are real." And that's just what I did. I came into my office, sat down at my computer and totally redid my post.

When I began this journey, I promised myself that I would be real. I wanted others to know what it's truly like to go through Breast Cancer. I said I wouldn't sugar coat anything. I was going to be open and honest. I wanted to use my blog as a ministry tool but also as a record of my own personal journey. My journey hasn't been easy at all. It's been filled with tears and pain. It's been the most difficult thing I've been through yet but I know even with all that I have yet to go through, I will make it, because I am a fighter. I want to live...I choose life.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved 

Compliance

Yesterday I went to the radiology clinic expecting to meet with the radiologist to discuss my recent CT scan and treatment plan, but instead, I went through another detailed mapping procedure. I was taken back to the dressing room and told to put on a gown. , I was lead into the radiation room and placed on a table that had my personal body mold affixed to it. I was thankful to have the mold underneath me because the table was narrow, cold, and hard. At least with the body mold, I had a nice, comfortable place to lie down.

Two radiology techs came into the room and worked to reposition me several times. They had placed a sheet underneath me so they could move me about easily. As they were working to get me into the proper position, I noticed there were lasers aimed at me. I tried not to look directly at them because I know lasers can damage your eyes. When they pulled the radiation machine over my chest, I could see a reflection of myself in the glass window. There were bright green laser lights highlighting my chest and the black dots, lines, and x's they'd made last week were being used for guide placements while new lines were being drawn. Several xrays were taken as the table vibrated while the machine worked. It felt weird lying there topless on this foam mold with lasers pointed at me from several different angles of the room. It almost felt like I was going to be disintegrated at any moment!

A large oval machine was moved into place and hovered over my chest. For some reason it made me think of one of my children's favorite Disney movies, "The Flight of the Navigator." In the movie, a 12-year-old boy named David becomes great friends with the artificial intelligence on an alien spaceship. He and "Max" are on a mission to retrieve star charts and solve the mystery of David's change in mental acuity. Max looks very similar to the radiation machine, which looks like a giant eyeball. I couldn't help but hear the word, "compliance," in my mind as I lay there. (Max, in the movie, always utters "compliance" whenever David gives him a verbal command on where to navigate the alien spacecraft.) As I lay there daydreaming, the radiology tech asked me to scoot over just a bit on the table and I almost subconsciously muttered, "compliance!"

For over forty five minutes, I was shifted and repositioned while the radiology techs marked and remarked places on my chest. I was surprised when they began marking up my neck and along my ribcage. I asked if they were going to include those areas in the field of radiation that I would be receiving and they responded yes. When I asked for an explanation, they said that those were areas most likely spots for the cancer to travel toward. I never thought my throat would be an area that would be radiated and this concerned me. I remembered the radiologist had told me that one of the side effects from radiation that could possibly affect me was an inability to swallow. Now it made sense. I surely hope I don't experience that!

As the table was lowered and I was helped up, I couldn't help but think, on Tuesday I'll be receiving a dose of real radiation. It seems it's been months since I was diagnosed but it's only been 7 weeks since my surgery. I am so thankful I don't have to go through chemotherapy! Radiation will be difficult but I think chemotherapy would be so much more difficult.

I'm a member of several Breast Cancer Facebook sites and many of the women posting on those are going through chemotherapy currently. Almost every one of them shares about some horrible side effect they are dealing with now. There's hair loss, nausea, vomiting, weakness, fatigue, bone and joint pain, etc. At least with radiation, I know I am not ingesting poison.

I don't understand how radiation is used to treat cancer. Doesn't radiation cause cancer? What about Nagasaki and Hiroshima? When we dropped the Atomic bomb many, many people died from radiation poisoning. I'm sure there are scientific calculations involved deciding exactly how much radiation I'll receive, but it sure is scary. Radiologists use computers to perform those calculations and computers are controlled by humans, and humans make mistakes. All I can do is trust that God has all of this under control.

As I pulled out of the parking lot, I glanced over at the huge lead lined tower that housed the radiation equipment. The lead was supposed to keep the radiation from traveling outside the building. I wondered how many times radiation could be beamed into that room and stored into those lead walls before it became compromised. Science astounds me and while I don't understand it all, I am grateful for doctors who study for years and years to understand the field in which they work. Their expertise helps guide the treatment that many of us receive. I stopped at that moment and prayed for my doctor  to have wisdom and discernment as she planned my course of treatment.  I know God honored my prayers and He will guide Dr. Santiago in the days ahead.

Just like in the movie, the Flight of the Navigator, when little David doesn't have a clue where the spaceship is taking him, I have no idea what to expect in the days ahead. And just like Max, when the navigator instructs him on his next course of action, I'll respond with a hearty "compliance" as the doctors lead me on this journey. I will trust them as they mark out the next course, but even though they think they are in control, my navigator, Jesus Christ, controls every aspect of my care and He will never steer me wrong.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved  

Be brave and courageous

Over and over again this week, God has been speaking to my heart about being brave and courageous. Almost every single day, I come across a Scripture that refers me back to this continuing theme in my life. Yesterday, it was Joshua 1:9," Have not I commanded you? Be strong, vigorous, and very courageous. Be not afraid, neither be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." This morning, it was Psalm 27:14, "Wait and hope for and expect the Lord; be brave and of good courage and let your heart be stout and enduring. Yes, wait for and hope for and expect the Lord." What did it mean for my heart to be stout? I looked it up in the dictionary and found it to mean "heavy, large, or brave and determined." Why was God prompting me to be brave and courageous? I've never considered myself to be brave. What does He want me to learn? 

For me to completely understand, I did some research. I began by finding a transliteration of this verse in Hebrew. This is what I found, "wait on the Lord, be strong and He will instill courage to your heart." So it wasn't that God was asking me to muster up courage from somewhere deep within me; He was asking me to understand that he wanted me to be brave by accepting the courage that He was going to supply me with and sustain me with in the days ahead. It was His bravery that He was going to impart to me. It was His strength and His courage, not mine. 

Today I go to see the radiation oncologist. She's going to go over the results of my CT scan and give me an exact treatment plan. I'll be starting my treatment the day after Labor day. I'll be going to the clinic 5 days a week for the next 7 weeks and then have some booster doses of radiation for several weeks afterwards. I won't deny that I'm scared about the treatments. When the doctor went over side effects and things that might happen to my body during or after treatments last week, it was only natural to be fearful. Is this why God was prompting me to be brave and courageous? Wouldn't it be nice to be able to see into the future sometimes and know exactly what lies ahead? Sometimes I think it would be and then other times, I am so thankful God protects us from that knowing! I might not be able to handle knowing that I might experience something I would never have chosen for myself. 

Weeks ago, God lay on my heart a picture of bravery and courage. That picture was of a lion- a strong, fierce, roaring lion. If you've ever watched National Geographic, you know from watching a pride of lions that they aren't timid creatures. Every muscle of their body seems made for strength. Their ability to outrun their prey is amazing. Their powerful jaws can rip meat and sinew from bone with ease. Their mighty roar can echo for miles. They are strong. They are brave. They are courageous! When God gave me that visual image of a lion, I wanted a "real" lion to remind me of what He'd impressed on my heart. I put a post up on Facebook asking if anyone knew where I could get a little stuffed lion to take with me to my appointments and treatments. Within minutes, I got a response from a sweet friend who said she was sending one to me that very day. It might seem like a silly, childish thing for me to "need" an object to remind me of God's lesson, but for me, it was very significant. 

A few days passed and when the mailman brought a package to my door, I opened it with excitement and joy. Inside was a cute, curly maned stuffed lion. He did not look ferocious or brave, instead, he looked cute and cuddly. But he was a lion! He was symbolic of bravery and courage. It didn't matter that he looked cute and cuddly. I surely didn't look brave or courageous either, but the strength of God inside of me instilled me with those necessary traits. 

The more I thought about lions and their behavior, the more I learned about God. National Geographic has filmed lions waiting patiently as they select their prey. Often the lion will choose a wounded or weak animal as his target. When the moment is right, the lion springs forward on his powerful haunches and lunges toward his prey. His powerful claws rip into skin and muscle tearing away flesh as his teeth clamp down on the poor animal's neck rendering it helpless. There is no evidence of fear in the lion...none whatsoever.  

So why had God impressed upon me the need to be brave and courageous? Was He wanting to teach me, like the lion, to wait patiently as He helped me understand the Hebrew word, "chazak," the word that means be strong? Or was He wanting me to learn the word, nuach, another Hebrew word meaning to rest? I think He was wanting me to learn both but even more importantly, that He wanted me to understand that during my time of waiting and resting and being brave, He wanted to restore me and renew my heart within me! He wanted to use this time of suffering to teach me something very important. 

Isaiah 40:31 says, "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” So if I learn to wait, as the lion does for his prey, I will be rewarded with renewed strength and vitality! Is this what God wanted to teach me? To wait upon Him takes strength and courage: strength of character to "will" to wait, and courage to do what others do not. 

As I look at that little stuffed lion sitting on my china cabinet, I am reminded to be brave and courageous. I'm also reminded that God is working on my behalf even when I can't see what He's doing. Right now, at this very minute, I don't really need any courage or bravery, or at least I don't think I do. While I'm waiting on my radiation treatments to begin, I'm in a holding pattern. I'm just waiting. But is God actively working in my life during this time of waiting? I think He is! I think He's busy preparing me for the next step on my journey. Just like the lion crouched in the brush watching his prey, I'm waiting. And when the time is right, He'll prompt me to spring forward and pounce. I'll sink my claws deep into the fear of the unknown that has terrorized me since I was told I had Cancer. I'll dig in deep and rip it from head to toe. When I'm done, I'll lean back on my haunches and let out a mighty, guttural roar...a roar that comes from His strength and not mine, a roar that is victorious, courageous, and brave. But in the meantime, I'm just waiting and I know that while I'm waiting, He's working. He's restoring, renewing, and revitalizing me in preparation for what lies ahead. I can be brave when it's His strength flowing through me. I can be courageous, when He is the one who provides the courage.

As I snuggle my little lion up against my face, I feel its softness. I thank God that He supplies the courage and infuses it into my heart. I'm thankful I don't have to figure out how I'm going to be brave in the days ahead. He will supply the perfect amount of bravery and courage just when I need it. When I am weak, He is strong. I am thankful that the Lion of Judah carries me through the storms of life! And if you listen closely in the coming days, you might just hear me practicing my roar...

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Thankful Thursday

Today I've been focusing on all the things I've had to be thankful about this week and I thought I would share them with you instead of writing my normal blog posts. I hope you understand it's important to keep a positive attitude of gratitude while going through any type of life situations but especially during a breast cancer journey. Keeping my eyes fixed on Christ, I am able to handle one moment at a time.

This week, I'm thankful for:

• For my husband's constant encouragement and support on a daily basis. He reminds me to always take one day at a time, which is very difficult for me.
• Being discharged from the occupational/rehab center - I don't have to return for Lymphedema treatments unless it gets worse when I start radiation next week. I have been trained to do the manual lymph drainage at home and will pick up my compression sleeves and camisole next week.
• For friends who haven't forgotten me! Once the "newness" of my Cancer diagnosis was over, many have fallen away from staying in touch with me. Those faithful few who've made a point to continually check in are precious to me. Just a card, call, email, or text message lets me know you're still out there and you still care. I can't tell you how much it means to me to know I'm not on this road alone.
• For God's constant provision - our bill basket is overflowing with medical bills. While I tend to be a worrywart and stress out about how we're going to pay them, my husband reminds me that God owns the cattle on a thousand hills and nothing is too difficult for Him. 
• Learning to wait - God is teaching me to wait. You'd have to know me well to understand how difficult this is for me to do. I have NEVER been one to wait easily. I'm always going, always doing, always in a hurry. This morning as I was having my quiet time, God emphasized to me that He is using this time to not only teach me to wait on Him but to renew and restore me. As I thought about that, it helped me want to wait! I had never understood that God uses times of trial sometimes to not only teach us something, but to cause us to be in a position for Him to rebuild, renew, and restore us. 
• For Hebrew - Yes! I'm thankful for the Hebrew language because it helps me understand the meaning of the Bible so much better. This morning, I studied the word "chazak" as I read Psalm 27. This Hebrew word means "stand like a man and be strong." It gives a whole new meaning to Psalm 27:14 "Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart." (Psalm 27:14 KJV) The transliteration in Hebrew says "Wait on the Lord, and be strong - stand like a man, and He shall instill courage to your heart." Continually, God has been emphasizing the need for me to be brave and courageous during my battle with Cancer. Studying Hebrew helps me know that when God calls me to be brave, He is the one who supplies the courage - from His strength - not from mine!
• For quiet days - when there's no distraction from noise, I can focus more on what God's saying to my heart. I enjoy peace filled days and the sound of silence. 
• For the sun's warmth- I am very cold natured and just being able to sit outside on a warm sunny day is such a blessing. 
• For a wooded lot - I enjoy sitting outside in my yard watching deer, birds, and other wildlife scurry about. I'm so thankful for the wonderful shade the trees provide and the gentle breeze that blows through them on a hot summer day. 
• For my cell phone - throughout the day, one of my children either call or text me. I'm thankful they want to keep in touch!
• For my laptop - it makes communication, research, and writing so much more convenient. 
• For the mail lady - whenever she brings a package up to me, she stays and visits for a little while. I enjoy having someone I can look in the eyes and talk with during the day. 

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Getting my new boobs!

I've been struggling with feelings of inadequacy since having my breasts removed. It's amazing how our breasts are tied to our self-esteem, isn't it? I never thought I would feel that way until I had my bilateral mastectomies and experienced for the first time going out in public totally flat chested. More than likely, I was the only one who really noticed my flatness, but I felt like everyone was focused on my chest. That feeling caused me to feel "less than" others around me. It bothered me that I felt this way. I had always been so self confident. Why was I feeling this way now? I had to figure it out. On the way to see the Lymphedema therapist, I couldn't help thinking about getting my new "boobs" today. Renewal had called late yesterday and told me they were in the shop and ready for pick up.

I arrived at the Rehab center a few minutes before 9 and said a quick prayer. I went inside and within just a few minutes, Alison came over to get me and take me back. Today's session wasn't quite as long as Monday's and she was impressed with the results from my last manual drainage. After working on me, Alison said she was going to discharge me! I was so happy! She advised me to continue the manual drainage techniques she'd showed me for home use and I assured her I would.

Driving to Renewal, I continued to think about my new prostheses. I wondered how I was going to feel when I received them. When I pulled into the parking lot, I smoothed down my wrinkled shirt. My chest was so flat. I wasn't worried about going into this store with a flat chest however because they see flat chested women all day long. The cashier met me at the counter and I told her I was there to pick up my order. After asking my last name, she went to the back to retrieve my items. When she came out, she had a large shopping bag in hand. She gently sat it on the floor and proceeded to ring up the sale. I was astounded by the price of the mastectomy products. Thank goodness we have insurance! Those things are sure expensive! Each prosthesis costs $300! I'm getting 2 new mastectomy bras and 2 prostheses. The total of my bill is almost $800 but thankfully I only have to pay $135 because of our insurance. I pulled out my debit card and was on my way in minutes.

I was surprised at the feeling of pride I experienced as I walked out to my car. I was really ecstatic to have my new "boobs!" I didn't expect to react this way; I thought I might be emotional and cry. I did not expect to feel extremely happy. I placed the bag in the back seat of my car and headed home.

When I got home, I brought the bag inside and went straight to my bedroom. I removed the items from the shopping bag and laid them on my bed. There were 2 mastectomy bras, one white and one black, and two prostheses. The prostheses were in pretty pink boxes adorned with a rose. When I opened the box of the first prosthetic, I saw a little pink zippered round box. I didn't want to open it just yet. I wasn't quite ready. I took the other prosthetic out of it's box and had the 2 pink round zippered boxes sitting on the bed. Why was I hesitating to open them? I guess I was afraid to see what they looked like and afraid to hold them, but I made myself do it.

I slowly and carefully unzipped each box. Inside, in a mesh sling, was a molded, flesh colored, silicone breast form. I picked one up and was surprised at how heavy it was in my hand. I don't remember my real breasts feeling that heavy. I hadn't ordered a larger cup size than I was, although I was given the option to do so. I'd kept my cup size at an A. These things felt like they each weighed a pound! I slipped them into my mastectomy bra like the fitter had shown me and lifted the bra up in front of me. It looked mighty heavy. I unbuttoned my shirt and put the bra on over my camisole. I was afraid the weight of the prostheses would be too much against my bare skin and they might pull on my incisions. I had trouble reaching back to hook the clasps, but after a few attempts, managed to fasten it. I turned to look in the mirror. The bra looked like it was sitting much higher up on my chest than my normal one, but this was the correct position for a bra according to the fitter. I turned slightly so I could get a profile view and decided they looked okay. I picked up my shirt from the bed and slipped it back on, buttoning each button slowly. When I'd finished buttoning them all, I turned to look at myself in the mirror. You'd never know they were fake! Under the shirt, they looked like real boobs! The bra was fit so snug and tight that the weight of the fake boobs wasn't bothersome. I pushed against one of the prosthetics with my hand to see what it felt like and was amazed to find that it felt very lifelike.

I decided not to wear the bra and prostheses today. I'd save them for going out in public. I'd gotten used to having no breasts and not needing to wear a bra and rather like the freedom it afforded me. I gently lay the bra with the prostheses still in it onto the little open zippered boxes. The instructions that came with the prostheses said to always store them in their little cases to prevent damage to them. I took both boxes and sat them on the little table in my bedroom. The bra looked strange lying there. I was instantly reminded of my mother in law who'd undergone a mastectomy years before.

I remembered the first time I'd seen her prosthetic and her mastectomy bra. It was when we were cleaning out her house to put it on the market. She was in an assisted living home at the time and we were helping to sort through her things. We were in her bedroom and I was going through clothes in her closet. When I'd finished that, I moved on to her dresser. Opening the top drawer, I saw it. This soft, molded tan form lying there. It overwhelmed me. I remembered feeling so sorry for her having to go through surgery at her age. I believe she was in her mid 60's or early 70's. I remembered back to her valiant fight against breast cancer. Though she only had one breast removed, she did not let it stop her from doing anything she wanted to do. She was amazingly active and was always dedicated her time to helping others. I wished I'd been more helpful to her after she'd first had her surgery. Back then, I don't think I completely understood everything that was involved in a radical mastectomy. I could have done more. I should have done more, but now it was too late.

Looking back at my prostheses, I was grateful. At least I'd have the option to wear them or leave them at home if I didn't choose to put them on. I was thankful for companies who have worked hard to form them into lifelike works of art that are very similar to our own breast tissue. I noticed that I wasn't feeling quite so inadequate any more. I was actually feeling a little more normal than I expected. I guess I'm getting used to the "new normal" that everyone keeps talking about after experiencing breast cancer. No, things will never be the way they were before, but this new normal wasn't going to be as hard to get used to as I had thought it would be.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

A surprise for me

Yesterday I went in for my Lymphedema treatment. I had no idea what the therapist was going to do but assumed it would be some sort of drainage or something. When she called me back into the therapy room, she had me put on a gown and lie down on the exam table. What came next was a complete surprise to me...she dimmed the lights and put on some soft music. This is weird, I thought to myself. She came over and sat down on a rolling stool beside me and donned purple latex gloves. Next, she proceeded to use her hands to make small circles on either side of my neck explaining that she was performing manual lymph node massage to encourage my lymph nodes to release some of the fluid they had stockpiled since my surgery. As I lay there looking up at her I felt very uncomfortable. I'm the one in my family who gives massages, I have never received one.

The therapist moved her hands to the tops of my shoulders, explaining that there were lymph nodes there and all over our bodies. Since my swelling is in the upper arms and armpit area, she said we would only focus on my torso. She moved down both arms continuing to press and make circular movements that went in the same direction. I asked her about her medical degree and she said she was a certified Lymphedema specialist. I asked if there were many of those in Georgia and she said there were not because it is a fairly new field of expertise. Manual lymphatic drainage is a technique developed in Germany for treatment of Lymphedema, an accumulation of fluid that can occur after lymph nodes are removed during surgery, most often a mastectomy for breast cancer. Well, I felt a little better knowing that she was trained to do this technique.

The room was very cool and there was a soft glow from the uplight in the corner of the room. Claude DeBussy's Clair de Lune was playing in the background. I commented, as she continued, that Clair De Lune was my very favorite music for relaxation. I said, "I think I could get used to this!" She smiled, looking down at me and asked me to turn onto my side so she could reach my ribcage better. By this time, I was feeling more at ease and actually began to enjoy getting this unexpected treat and I found myself smiling a little. Just knowing that Blue Cross/Blue Shield was paying for 30 of these treatments made me smile even bigger.

When Alison was finished (yes, we are now on a first name basis!), I felt so relaxed. I told her I'd never had a massage of any kind in my entire life. She told me that was a shame because I didn't know what I had been missing. I asked her how many patients she worked on a day and she said only 4 because she leaves early to pick up her children from school. I asked about her family and found out that she had 2 sons. One of them, her 11 year old suffered a pediatric stroke at birth and causing him to be unable to use one side of his body. I could tell this was a very painful topic for her so I did not ask any questions.

Before I put my shirt back on, Alison wrapped my left arm in a compression bandage. She said it was best to do it right after the manual lymph drainage to keep it from swelling up later in the day. Since I'd been having more trouble with the left side than the right, she said she'd only wrap this one side today and we'd recheck both on Wednesday. She gave me a copy of my prescriptions for the compression camisole and the Lymphedema sleeves and gauntlets. I have to go get fitted for those next week.

Driving home, I felt like a wet noodle! I was so relaxed, I thought I would slide right out of the driver's seat onto the floorboard. The swelling is definitely much better and I'm hoping it stays that way until Wednesday when I'll go and do this all over again. What an unexpected treat today was and if all doctor's visits were like this, I'd go to the doctor every day!

Listen to Clair de Lune by Claude DeBussey

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Where there's a will, there's a way

Last night I wanted to take a bath. Normally, that's nothing out of the ordinary but now, I couldn't just jump into my tub to soak because of all the black marks from my radiation mapping. When I'd had that procedure done early last week, the doctor told me not to get those wet. She said if they came off, we'd have to go through the whole process of mapping all over again. I surely didn't want that. Hmmm....what to do??? I could just run the water so it only came up to my thighs, but that wouldn't even feel like I was getting to enjoy my long, soaking bath. I could just forego the bath and take a shower...nah, I did that every day. My muscles were really aching and I needed a long, hot soak. After a few minutes, I had an epiphany!

One of my favorite movies of all times is Fried Green Tomatoes, based on the book Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg. It is filled with thought provoking drama and wonderful Southern humor. Jessica Tandy (Idgie/Ninny), Kathy Bates (Evelyn), and Mary Louise Parker (Ruth) play the lead roles in a story of a Depression-era friendship between two women, Ruth and Idgie, and a 1980s friendship between Evelyn, a middle-aged housewife, and Ninny, an elderly woman who knew Ruth and Idgie. The centerpiece and parallel story concerns the murder of Ruth's abusive husband and the accusations that follow. It's a movie I never tire of watching.

Recently, when my daughter, Erin, was in town, we had the pleasure of traveling to Senoia, Georgia to photograph the scene from the movie where Ruth's son, Buddy, loses his arm in a train accident. While we were there, we both sensed an eeriness of feeling the scene play out around us. Of course, it was only our vivid imaginations, but it was memorable to say the least.

Now, back to my desire to have a long, hot, soaking bath! (I know you wondered where in the world I was going with this post, but trust me and hang in there! It will all make sense in just a few minutes!) My mother always said, "where there's a will, there's a way." This old Southern saying meant if you wanted something badly enough, you'd figure out how to do it. Well, I really wanted that bath. I needed that bath. My epiphany came as a scene from the movie, Fried Green Tomatoes, flashed before me. In this particular scene, Kathy Bates, is attending classes on how to put the spark back in her marriage. She and her husband haven't been romantic in some time and she longs for that passion to be rekindled. In the scene, Evelyn (Kathy Bates) is sitting in a class taught by Fannie Flagg (the author of the book) and in the class, Fannie talks about how to get that "spark" back. As Fannie is speaking, Evelyn is daydreaming. She daydreams about wrapping her body in cellophane and greeting her husband at the door when he comes home from work in nothing but the cellophane. It's a hilarious scene but, it gave me an idea!

Cellophane!!! That was it! I ran into the pantry and pulled out a roll of Saran Wrap and hurriedly went back to the bathroom. I tried to wrap it around myself without much luck and so I called loudly to my husband, "can you come here and help me for just a minute?" Phil was watching Mountain Men on TV, a show about men who rough it in Alaska, and he didn't respond right away. I called to him again, "honey, can you come help me?" Within just a few minutes, he came into the bathroom to see what I needed help with. I explained my plan to him and instead of him looking at me like I was a crazy person, he calmly and patiently unrolled the plastic wrap and helped me wind it around my body several times. All the markings and dots were covered! Now I could get my bath!

Phil went back to watch his show and I ran my bath water. As I slid into the warm, soothing water, I think I heard music in the background...a heavenly TA DAH! (My Daddy always said TA DAH whenever he'd done something he was proud of and he wanted us to recognize him for his efforts.) I leaned back against the back of the tub and relaxed. The water was so pleasant and I could already feel my muscles unwinding. I glanced down at my abdomen and saw the Saran Wrap. Underneath the layers of Saran Wrap were large black dots and X's, and underneath all that were two long, dark red mastectomy scars. Boy was I a sight! I couldn't help but laugh and then I couldn't stop laughing! As I sat there, I couldn't help but think how you'd respond today as you read my post. If you aren't laughing at least maybe I've brought a smile to your face. There is indeed a way if you have the will and desire to do something. I think my Daddy would even be smiling because when I stepped out of the tub, I said a loud, "TA DAH" as I threw my arms open wide and grinned.

Watch the scene from Fried Green Tomatoes (Evelyn & Cellophane)
©bonnie annis all rights reserved

I am grateful

Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit my mother at the nursing home. It was the first long trip I'd made since my surgery and I knew it was going to taxing on me. Thankfully traffic was light and it only took us about an hour and a half to get to the nursing home. I wondered how my mother would react to seeing me without breasts. Would she cry? Would I cry? 

As we went in to see her, we passed many elderly people sitting by the entrance and in the hallways. I always try to smile and look each person in the eye as I pass them because I know how lonely they must be for some sort of social interaction. Many of the women we passed seemed to stare blankly into space and others moaned out in distress. It was very disconcerting. We moved quickly down the hall and toward my mother's room. We had planned to surprise her with an unannounced visit. She was also unaware that several of her grandchildren and one of her great grandchildren would be joining us.

As we continued down the hallway, I noticed one woman in particular. She sat in the middle of the hall, her eyes never moving and her face was fixed in a large, open mouthed grin. It was obvious she had suffered from a stroke or some other facial paralysis. I smiled back at her but her expression never changed and I could tell she wasn't aware of her surroundings. How very sad, I thought to myself, to spend the rest of your life sitting in a wheelchair with your mouth wide open. 

My husband, one of my daughters, and I went down the long hallway all the way to the end. When we got to Mama's room, I knew as soon as we entered that she was having a rough day. She was lying in bed with a washcloth on her head and on her bedside tray were several cups of gingerale. I asked  how she was feeling and she said she'd been extremely nauseated and it had been a hard morning. I asked if I could do anything for her and she just shook her head no. I kept waiting to see if she would look at my chest or indicate she was upset that I'd recently had surgery, but she never said one word about it. I was grateful she didn't ask me a million questions.

Soon one of my other children arrived with her husband and her little one. Mama was so happy to see them. She hadn't seen the baby since last September and was amazed at how she had grown. She enjoyed watching the little blonde head of her youngest great grandchild as she bobbled around walking first to one side of the room and then the other. (Heather was so short that her head was about all Mama could see from her bedside viewpoint.) I was happy to see her smiling.

My brother and my nephew arrived and suddenly I noticed the room was crowded with people. Mama had so many who loved her! We had a nice visit with and although she wasn't feeling well, I think Mama enjoyed the visit too. We spent time catching up on the events in our lives and even made a 4 generation photo together. As I sat in her room, I realized how blessed we were that Mama was still cognizant of her surroundings. She's still able to laugh and converse with us. Her mind is very sharp.

The longer we sat in her room, the more I could feel my arms swelling. I hadn't been able to elevate them since we'd left home. This was not a good thing! We stayed a little while longer and then I felt like we needed to go. Mama's roommate had come in and didn't seem to be too pleased to find so many people in their room. This roommate was not friendly and sat in the corner of her side of the room glowering at us.

When we got ready to say goodbye, I glanced out into the hallway and saw the woman with the frozen smile again, but this time, instead of focusing on how sad it was...I saw it as a blessing! Here she was in a nursing home full of people in various stages of life. Yes, there were many whose minds were locked in time. There were many who sat around in a vegetative state and many who did nothing but complain. But this lady just sat quietly in her wheelchair, alone in the hallway, with a huge gaping grin on her face. Was she able to see something I couldn't see? Perhaps she was smiling at Jesus!

I'm not sure what the circumstances were behind the woman with the big, toothless grin, but this one thing I do know...I'm sure she was much better off than those who chose to complain all day and even if she wasn't completely aware of her surroundings, it didn't really matter. In my mind, I decided she must have taken that verse of Scripture to heart - "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:2. Her eyes were fixed and her smile was wide, I can only imagine the beautiful sight she beheld. I am grateful that one day too, I will see Him face to face in all His glory. Oh what a day that will be!

About halfway back home, I realized I was exhausted. I don't know, why but just making this trip had worn me out. I was taken aback at how very tired I was and my husband, Phil, noticed. He encouraged me to lean back in my seat and close my eyes. I wasn't sleepy, just physically drained I explained to him. Traffic was heavy making our trip back even longer than it had been in the beginning. I was so thankful when we finally pulled into our driveway. For the remainder of the day, I kept my arms elevated. After about an hour, I turned in early. I guess my energy level isn't what it used to be. Hopefully it will get better over time. I don't like feeling this way but I am grateful to be alive. 

I went to sleep thinking about the nursing home visit. My mind kept returning to the woman with the frozen smile. Wouldn't it be amazing if we were all so filled with joy that our faces couldn't help but remain permanently frozen with happiness? It would be awesome to notice nothing but smiles on people's faces instead of expressions of worry, complaint, or despair. I imagine it will be that way when we get to heaven and I can't wait! As I thought about what heaven would be like, I fell asleep. I wonder if I was smiling as I slept through the night? 

©bonnie annis all rights reserved 

Lymphedema update

Yesterday I went to Piedmont Rehab and Fitness Center in Fayetteville to have my Lymphedema assessment. I was surprised when I went in and saw what looked like a very well organized gym before me. On almost every piece of equipment was an elderly person obviously using the machines for post operative rehabilitation. I felt awkward and out of place sitting there waiting for my name to be called. I wondered what machine they would place me on and if I would be able to do whatever therapy they decided I needed to do.

After about thirty minutes, a young, blonde woman came up to me and asked if I was Bonnie. I stood up and greeted her. She took me back to a separate examination room and began asking me a lot of medical history questions, nodding her head and entering my answers in the laptop on her little desk. After we'd completed the questions, she had me undress from the waist up and sit on the exam table.

Alison, the Lymphedema specialist, brought an extractable tape measure and a blue marker over to the table. She sat in front of me and began to measure different intervals up my left arm. She started at the wrist and measured then made some blue markings on my arm. Next she went up about 4 inches and did this again but this time, she recorded the numbers from her first measurement on my arm. As she recorded each measured circumference, I tried to see what she was writing on her notepad but couldn't. After she finished the left side, she did the same thing on the right side and then proceeded to measure my chest area and around each armpit. When she had completed all measurements and recordings, I looked down at my arms and laughed. She looked at me in a confused way and I said, "I have markings all over my chest from the radiation mapping and now I have markings up and down each arm too. I sure look funny! It's a good thing I don't have to go anywhere but home after I leave here!"

Next Alison pulled out some anatomy charts and began to explain to me how the lymph system works. She used a lot of medical jargon and asked repeatedly if I understood what she was talking about. I told her that I had wanted to be a nurse when I was growing up so when I went to high school, I focused on anatomy and physiology as well as biology. "That's great," she said, "most people look at me like a deer caught in headlights when I explain this to them." I was thankful I had a good knowledge of medical terminology and was able to understand her explanations without asking her to go in to more detail.

The treatment plan would involve lymphatic massage as well as my having to wear a compression camisole and two lymphedema sleeves. Alison said I'd also have to wear gauntlets to prevent the lymphatic fluid from traveling down my arms into my hands and wrists. Gauntlets? I was suddenly feeling a little medieval. She said she'd have to order all of those things and fax the orders over to my surgeon for her signature. As soon as we got that, she'd contact the insurance company for their approval and then I'd go to an offsite location for fitting. Before I left, Alison showed me how to do lymphatic massage on myself and she explained that my radiation could exacerbate the swelling. I am hoping it doesn't. My Lymphedema isn't as bad as some cases, Alison explained. She said some people come in with legs or arms as big around as tree trunks. I am so thankful I don't have that problem! I can't imagine how uncomfortable those people must feel and how embarrassed they must be to go out in public. People can be so cruel and judgmental.

Prayer request: Please pray that my lymphedema does not get worse as I go through radiation. There is no cure for it but the symptoms can be treated with compression and massage. (Mine seems to worsen late in the day after I've been very active with my arms.) Thank you in advance for praying!

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Lymphedema

I had hoped I wouldn't get it but it appears that I have a case of Lymphedema in both arms. This is not uncommon for women who've had lymph nodes removed after breast surgery. The Lymphatic system is impeded and Lymphatic fluid can no longer drain properly so it has to collect somewhere in the body. Mine has decided to collect right around and under my armpits.

When I wake in the morning, the swelling is minimal because I've had my arms propped up all night long on pillows, but by mid morning, the tops of my arms are huge. They're so swollen I can barely get my shirt sleeves over them. I'm thankful a friend had recently given me some larger sized blouses and the width of the sleeves on those accommodate my "fat" arms well.

This morning I will be seeing a physical therapist in Fayetteville named Alison Franklin. She's certified in working with Lymphedema patients. I have no idea what she's going to do to help relieve the situation but I have appointments lined up with her for every other day next week and for several weeks following. I imagine I'll be on the road a lot in between these appointments and my radiation appointments.

It would be nice if breast cancer patients could go in, have surgery and just be done never having to worry about anything else again, but as it goes, most women end up having additional physical problems, treatments, and other issues to deal with for long periods of time. And just when you finish all of the required treatment plans and think you're home free, a new disease creeps in...Canceritis. Canceritis is the fear of recurrence of Cancer. So, you see, breast cancer isn't a once and done type of deal...it's a life changing, mind boggling menace. Not only does Canceritis affect the patient, it also affects the patient's family. Who wants to sit around wondering if every new lump or bump might be the return of a horrible disease?

In the words of Scarlett O'Hara, "I don't want to think about that right now!" I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Right now my focus is to get this Lymphedema under control so it doesn't travel on down my arms and cause me to be unable to do the things I am able to do right now. If it gets worse, they'll put me in compression sleeves. There is no cure for Lymphedema. That's one reason it's so important for me to remember not to have any needle sticks, blood pressures or any kind of skin injuries to either arm because any of those things can highly exacerbate the situation.

It's always something! Tomorrow I'll give an update on what the therapist did for me today. Thank you for stopping by and reading my blog. I'm sure you're learning more about Cancer than you ever dreamed you might. My prayer for you is that neither you nor someone you love will ever have to deal with Cancer but chances are, someone you know will be diagnosed with it soon. When and if they are, hopefully my blog will have given you some tidbit of valuable information or some small shred of encouragement to pass on to them. It's not an easy trial to get through but it is doable. 

One of my favorite quotes is “The strongest of all warriors are these two-Time and Patience.”- Leo Tolstoy. Time and patience, those are the things a breast cancer patient learns well during their journey. I've always been a impatient person. I've always been a hurry up and get it done type of person...typical type A personality, but since I've had cancer, I've had to learn to slow down and just wait. That's one reason I stopped wearing a watch...to remind me to just take time...to just take one moment at a time and that's all I can do.

 © bonnie annis all rights reserved

Fear is sin

This morning, as I was reading my Bible, I came across a verse that I'm sure I've read many times before in the past, but today, it just grabbed my attention like no other verse had in a very long time. This is the verse I read: "...everything that does not come from faith is sin." Romans 14:23
Wow...EVERYTHING that does not come from faith is sin...EVERYTHING. Now that's pretty clear! As I continued to think about that verse, I realized something I'd never realized before...FEAR is sin. Oh, but wait a minute...you say! Fear is an emotion. Well, yes, it is an emotion but fear is so much more than that. Fear is a lack of faith! 

Have you ever thought about fear being a selfish act? It is! When we fear, we are choosing to believe what WE want to believe about something instead of trusting in what God says about it. We are choosing to put the fear above God! And anything put above God is considered an idol. Was I idolizing fear??? I certainly didn't think so but...

I have been very fearful lately. As you might imagine, Cancer can do that to you. Even after surgery and knowing the doctor said she thinks she got it all, I've been fearful there might be some Cancer cells lurking around in my body somewhere. In fact, radiation therapy just confirms that fear...why would they feel it necessary to irradiate my body if they weren't thinking that some rogue Cancer cells might just be swimming up my blood stream or sliding through my lymph system? Fear had attached itself to me during that first phone call telling me the mass was malignant. And that fear had been gleefully taking piggyback rides on my back ever since. That is, until I decided to shake it off today after reading this verse.

God gave me a clarity that I'd never experienced before. In Hebrews 11:6, the Bible says, "without faith it is impossible to please God." Now if fear is a lack of faith, then how did I expect to be able to please God if I was afraid??? Fear certainly doesn't come from faith so I realized that it indeed was a sin.

When you're struggling with a serious illness, it's easy to fall into the trap of only hearing and believing what the test reports show or what the doctors tell you. It's easier to believe the black and white than to have faith in what you can't see or understand. But, as a Christian, I know God expects me to walk by faith and not by sight. 2 Corinthians 5:7 says "for we walk by faith not by sight." So in order for me to walk by faith, I have to choose not to fear!

The more and more I studied this morning, God revealed to me that part of the reason I haven't been sleeping is due to fear. Of course, I have physical pain too, but if I can release the fear completely, God will supply His peace to fill the void the fear was occupying in my mind. In 1 John 4:18, the Bible says, "There is no fear in love [dread does not exist], but full-grown (complete, perfect) love turns fear out of doors and expels every trace of terror! For fear brings with it the thought of punishment, and [so] he who is afraid has not reached the full maturity of love [is not yet grown into love’s complete perfection]." God's perfect love contains no fear! And I know as His child, He lives inside of me so, His love is inside of me too and therefore, fear can't possibly reside in me!!!

Why had I not realized beforehand that fear is a sin? I knew unbelief was sin but I never connected that fear is too. After understanding this concept, I had no choice but to let it go. I had to pry those greedy little fingers of fear off my back and cast it away. I feel so much lighter now...
I've been set free from the deceitful grip that fear had on my life. Now it has no power over me because I'm choosing to walk in truth instead of believing a lie straight from the pit of hell.

Fear, worry, doubt...all lies! If you're struggling with those sins today, release them! Replace those lies with truth from God's Word. Walk in faith, even though you can't see a thing...just know that He's got you in His hand and He's never going to let you go! Remember that EVERYTHING that does not come from faith is sin....EVERYTHING.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Lonely nights

In the late 50's and early 60's, "I love Lucy" was my favorite television show. She always made me laugh hysterically at her funny antics. Once when I was watching her show, I wondered why she and Ricky slept in separate beds. I think I asked my mother about it and she said something along the lines of it being for modesty's sake...it wasn't proper to show them sleeping in the same bed. Sex certainly wasn't openly televised back then!

Last night I made the decision to sleep in one of our other bedrooms. My poor husband had been hanging onto the side of our king sized bed for too long! He'd been gracious enough not to complain as I added more and more pillows to our bed in hopes of finding a comfortable sleeping position, but neither of us were getting a sound night's sleep. It was strange as we kissed each other goodnight and went off toward separate rooms. For twenty one years, we've slept together unless one or the other of us was extremely ill or contagious. I'd grown accustomed to his snoring and he'd grown accustomed to my tossing and turning. It would be odd sleeping apart from one another. Before turning in, Phil helped me arrange the wedge shaped pillow in the middle of "my" bed and he placed the other pillows all around it as necessary to elevate my arms. We stood back and looked at my little "nest" of pillows and then turned to each other and gave each other a halfway smile knowing we weren't going to be beside each other tonight.

Phil has never had any problem getting to sleep. He works so hard and such long hours that as soon as his head hits the pillow, he's out. I, on the other hand, have always had trouble being able to relax and drift off to sleep...so much so, that the doctor had recently given me a sleeping aid to use for the next few weeks so my body could heal properly. I closed the door to my room and climbed into bed. It took several minutes to get positioned so my arms were above my heart, but I did it. Taking my book and my book light, I began reading where I'd left off the night before. I was deeply engrossed in a Stuart Woods' book. After reading a while, my eyes began to get heavy (thanks to the sleeping pill) and I slipped on my eye mask and inserted my foam ear plugs (a habit from sleeping with my snoring mate.) I don't remember falling asleep but I assume I did because the next thing I knew, I heard Phil leaving for work.

It was strange having to make up two beds this morning. It made me very sad that we hadn't been able to sleep together last night. I'm glad Phil was understanding of my desire to give him a peaceful, uninterrupted night's sleep and my need to spread out and take are of my arms. I remembered what he said last night as we parted ways, "even if we sleep in separate rooms, you know I still love you. Nothing is ever going to change that." I responded with a soft, "I know." And that's the way love is...it doesn't matter what comes our way. When you love someone, you always want the best for them. You put their needs above your own. You learn to be selfless and giving.

I am thankful we were both able to get a good night's sleep last night. It looks like we'll be doing this same routine for many more weeks to come. I'll miss his snoring, but I know he's only on the other side of the house and if I get to feeling better, I can always sneak over there and crawl under the covers with him.

I'm praying for a quick recovery but I know I still have quite a ways to go. When radiation begins, right after Labor day, I may be spending much more time in bed than I am now. The doctor has already told me that radiation causes extreme fatigue. I don't sleep well now, but I imagine, from what she's told me, that won't be a problem in weeks to come. Maybe it's best that we're sleeping in separate rooms for a little while...that way, Phil can get good sleep and so can I. It's amazing how much our bodies depend on uninterrupted sleep. The doctor told me that without good sleep, our cells can't rejuvenate and multiply. I definitely need my cells to get all the help they can get right now, so separate beds it is! I am holding on to the fact that this won't last forever and one day soon I'll be back in my own king sized, cool top, memory foam bed. I'll be snuggled up tightly against my husband and I may just leave my ear plugs out that first night so I can hear his beautiful snores all night long and be reminded that he's right there next to me. What do you think...should I do it?

I can just imagine Lucy doing an episode similar to that, can't you? I can just picture her funny face trying to cope with Ricky's loud snoring and in fact, there may have been an episode like that already but I just can't remember. She would probably hit him in the head with something and wake him up. I can just see him rising quickly out of bed yelling, "LUUUUUCCCCCYYYY" in his sexy Cuban accent and then chasing her around the room  as she begins with her famous crying "WAAAAAA." (be sure and check out this funny video of one of Lucy's antics...it will really make you smile!)

Watch Lucy sleep

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

X marks the spot

This morning, I left for the Radiation/Oncology center at 10:15 a.m. under a light, misting rain. All the way to the center, a little Honda was following me so closely, I thought she was going to rear end me. Of course, I had to give her a little brake check to get her off my tail because I didn't want to have a wreck before making it to the center for my appointment.

I entered the Radiation/Oncology office and swiped my ID scan badge that I'd been given on my last visit. Each time I enter for tests or treatment, I will need to swipe my badge so they can record my visit. A nurse I hadn't met yet came out to get me. She had trouble pronouncing my last name so I told her to make it easy on herself and just call me Bonnie. She laughed and took me back to the dressing room. After donning a lovely seafoam green gown, I waited for Pam, the nurse, to return.

We walked down a long hallway and Pam led me into a room with a huge CT machine in the center of the room. It looked like a huge, cavernous, mouth waiting to devour me! She had me stand beside the CT table while she mixed up some sort of solution and poured it into a very large black bag that looked a lot like a Hefty garbage bag. She squished the solution around inside of the bag for a few minutes and then flattened it out on the table. She told me that she was going to position me and needed me to hold that position while she helped me lie back onto the black bag. "Before you lie back, just know it's going to be quite warm," she said. She took my arm and helped me begin to lean back. It was painful to lie flat. I hadn't been in that position since my surgery. I'd been sleeping at night propped up on a wedge shaped pillow with pillows under each arm for support.

As Pam continued to lean me backward, all of my chest muscles were pulling and tugging. They were so tight and I was surprised at how much it hurt. She saw me wince a few times and told me she would try to hurry in the process. As my back touched the bag, I could feel instant warmth surrounding my body. The extreme heat felt wonderful to me but Pam said, "most people find this very uncomfortable." I told her that I was always cold and it felt great to me.Within a few minutes, the liquid foam she'd poured into the bag began to harden around me. She explained that the foam mold they were making would be used each time I came for treatment, and would help ensure that I was positioned exactly the same way each time.

Dr. Santiago entered the room and said hello. She was talking to me but I couldn't see her because the foam mold held my body so that I couldn't turn my head. Finally she realized I was unable to move and she came around the table to the other side. She explained that she was about to do my mapping and the marks she would make on my torso would provide guidelines for the radiology tech during treatment. I couldn't see what she was doing. At times, I could feel her making marks on my body but in the areas around my incisions, I didn't feel a thing because my skin is still numb there. I had no idea how many marks the doctor made, but she continued to draw on me for several minutes. Pam placed clear dot sized bandages over the top of many of the markings. She explained to me that those dots were very important and I should not get them wet or allow them to be removed. When she was finished placing the clear bandages, Pam ran me back through the CT machine again. The machine whirred loudly and sounded like a small jet engine. The only thing painful about the procedure was the way I was having to lie on the table with my arms outstretched over my head.

Finally we were done and Pam helped me sit up. I felt a little dizzy at first. She had me sit there a few minutes until I felt well enough to stand. I was led back into the dressing room and told to place my used gown in a biohazard bin. When I removed the gown to put my shirt back on, I glanced in the mirror. I had markings all over my chest and abdomen. I also had a mark in the center of the side of my neck. I had asked Dr. Santiago about the wide range of marks while she was placing them on me and she told me that the field she'd chosen was to ensure all of the Cancer would be eradicated. She said they were being very aggressive with the treatment plan and the reason they were going as high on my neck as she'd marked was because the Cancer liked to travel that route. The mirror revealed several lines, dots, and even a huge X just under the location of where my right breast used to be. I took a picture of my torso while looking in the mirror. I won't put it on this blog post, but I did want to keep it for my own personal documentation of this journey.

As I looked at the markings on my torso, I couldn't help but think it looked like a pirate's treasure map. I thought it was funny that I had a huge X in the center of my belly. "X marks the spot," I said, hoping none of the staff heard me. (Somewhere I remembered I'd read that phrase was put into use by the British army long ago. They would mark a piece of paper with a black x and would place it over the heart of someone sentenced to death.The acting officer would say "X marks the spot" and the firing squad would shoot the x. Pirates later took up the phrase using the X to indicate the position of a buried treasure.)

I placed my gown in the biohazard bin and as I left the center for the day, Pam said, "see you next week. We'll go over the results of the CT scan with Dr. Santiago and she'll review the treatment plan with you again. More than likely, your radiation won't start until the day after Labor day." I was glad to hear that...a few more weeks of "normalcy."

On the way home, I stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few things. I had to remind myself not to lift anything heavy with my right arm. Both arms are still very swollen from the lymphedema but I was told to be very cautious with the right arm. When I got home, I was extremely tired. I can't wait to show my husband the "treasure map" on my chest when He comes home from work. I just know he's going to laugh when he sees it. I love hearing him laugh. Laughter has been in short supply around here lately and I could sure use a laugh today.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Little Miss Know it All

I'm a planner. I like order. I find security in knowing what's going to happen next, so when I found out I had Cancer, I just knew I was going to have to go through Chemotherapy. I made the decision to be proactive. I should have known better but I forged ahead. I was extremely emotional that day.

As My husband and I were driving back from a doctor's appointment, I begged him to stop at the nearest salon. I wanted to get my hair cut short. I don't know why I felt like I had to do it at that very moment, but I did. Maybe I felt like things in my life were totally out of control and that was the one thing I could control at that very point in time, I'm really not sure, but I wanted it done immediately.  We stopped at one shop after the other and none of them had any openings for walk ins. On we drove and my tears began to flow. Finally, we came to a Super Cuts. I knew I'd be able to get my hair cut there because they don't take appointments. We went in, waited about ten minutes, and I was in the chair having my precious locks sheared off. I've always loved my hair and wanted it to be long and luscious, but most of my life it's been chin length or shorter. This time it was extremely short because I'd asked the stylist for a pixie cut.

Fast forward...it's been a little over 2 months now since my Cancer diagnosis. I've been waiting for the doctor to say, "you'll begin chemo treatments next week." Imagine my surprise when last week, He told me chemo was unnecessary in my case! I was elated but humbled at the same time. I realized that I had run ahead of God. In my desire to be proactive and cut my hair anticipating chemo, God had other plans. I couldn't help but pray asking Him for forgiveness. I should have waited...should have trusted...should have been patient, but just like most things in my life, I'm always running ahead trying to do things in my own way and in my own timing. God continually reminds me that I'm out of step with Him when I do that. I need to work on that.

My closet is filled with various scarves, hats, and wigs now, both borrowed and new. These are things I won't need now. Yet again, I ran ahead of God. So today, Little Miss Know it All (ME), has decided to stop running ahead of God. I'm going to sync up my steps with Him. Instead of running far ahead of Him, I'm going to temper my gait to match His exactly...and while I often won't know where we're going, I know if I stay close by His side, He'll only take me where I need to go. I won't make the mistake of running ahead of Him and doing things unnecessarily. I won't put myself through unneeded stress. I'll be able to relax and take one step at a time knowing that He knows the way and little Miss Know it All doesn't.

If I hadn't jumped the gun, my hair would be past my shoulders by now. As it is, I'm working on growing out this pixie cut. It's frustrating to grow out super short hair because it takes soooo long to get past that horrid "stuck in your collar" stage. I won't complain though because I know it's my own fault. I'm the one who was in such a hurry to cut it off. God is using this to remind me to be patient.

Why do you think it's important to God that patience grows inside us? It's because God's timing is not our timing. He is always doing more than we see or know. It is important that we never run ahead. He sets the pace and only He knows where the path leads. Our job is just to be willing to walk WITH Him.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved