I'm broken and you can't fix it

I have to admit something that I really don't want to admit, because when I do, you'll see my flaws...you'll see that I'm broken...messed up...and in need of repair. I've tried for some time to hide it but I can't do it any more. I give up. I admit defeat. I'm suffering. I'm depressed. There I said it. I feel a little better just knowing it's out there. And admitting it is a huge thing for me. I'm never depressed...well, I never used to be. Oh sure, sometimes I'd get a little down in the dumps but I'd always pick myself up, dust myself off and keep on going. I never let things really bother me. This time, I'm not sure if I can get myself out of this pit.

I guess it's healthy to be writing about it. At least I've admitted I have a problem. Isn't that what they want you to do when you go to counseling? Pinpoint the problem, accept it, discuss ways to conquer the problem and then work on solving it...right. So in essence, I'm giving myself a counseling session.

Counselor (me): So, Bonnie, what seems to be the problem?
counselee (me): I'm feeling depressed and alone.
Counselor: And why do you feel this way?
counselee: I don't really know.
Counselor: Let's think about it. What makes you feel depressed and alone?
counselee: Being alone all day...alone with my thoughts...having no friends and no one to talk to...I feel like I don't matter.
Counselor: So I hear you saying you feel like you don't matter because you have no friends or anyone to talk to is that right?
counselee: Yes, that's right. Things just haven't turned out like I expected.
Counselor: How so?
counselee: I never dreamed I'd get breast cancer...ever. It was a total shock and then, I spent the last year going through surgery and treatment. For over a year, all I've done is go from one doctor to another. I didn't have time to think about any of it. All I did was focus on getting through the next day, doing what I was told and trying to fight through the fatigue. Now that things have slowed down, I'm really having time to process all of it.
Counselor: And how does that make you feel?
counselee: It makes me feel scared and lonely, like I need help. I've tried so hard to keep anyone from knowing that I was struggling. I've tried hard to be brave and strong. I've tried not to let my emotions overtake me.
Counselor: Why did you feel like you had to be strong?
counselee: I felt like I had to be strong for my husband and my family. They expected me to be brave...to push through and to fight hard.
Counselor: And did you?
counselee: I did to a degree. I always kept my innermost thoughts and feelings to myself.
Counselor: Did you ever share those thoughts and feelings with anyone?
counselee: The only person I ever shared them with was God. I pour out my heart to Him daily and I find encouragement in the Bible but sometimes, I just want to talk with someone face to face...to really hear their feedback...to know that I'm not crazy.
Counselor: Why do you think you're crazy?
counselee: I feel like admitting I'm struggling is a sign of weakness. I shouldn't be feeling this way.
Counselor: So you're saying you feel admitting your hardships in dealing with the aftermath of breast cancer is a sign of weakness?
counselee: Yes, I do.
Counselor: Do you feel strength is admirable while weakness is something to be ashamed of?
counselee: Sometimes I do feel that way. I've always had to be strong. Admitting I can't handle something by myself is difficult. I've never asked for help before.
Counselor: How does asking for help make you feel?
counselee: At first, it makes me feel insufficient, weak, broken. But as I talk about it, I'm realizing it helps to process the problem. A joke just popped into my head. May I share it with you?
Counselor: Sure.

counselee: How do you eat an elephant?
Counselor: I don't know. How do you eat an elephant?
counselee: One bite at a time. Thinking of that joke helped me see that the only way to conquer my problem is to take tiny, little bites...
Counselor: So how does the first bite taste?
counselee: It tastes pretty sweet.
Counselor: I'm so glad. Our time is up for today. We'll continue again next week. In the meantime, I want you to promise not to focus on the whole elephant. Concentrate on the next bite only. Write down your feelings and don't sugar coat them. You and I are the only ones who'll see your notes. Be honest with yourself and in so doing, you'll begin to see with clarity.

Well, that was a productive first counseling session, don't you agree? I think I did a good job as both the counselor and the counselee. Sometimes, it's good to have a conversation with yourself...especially when you can be impartial and see both sides of things.

Through my "counseling session" I think I've discovered I'm suffering from a.c. depression (After Cancer Depression...I made up that term so I'm not sure if it's really a legitimate condition but if it isn't, it should be!) I haven't been part of any sort of group therapies or self help healing since being diagnosed. I've just been trying to figure things out on my own. Maybe that's why I'm struggling. Maybe I need to have a conversation with my oncologist about this depression, but if I do, I know he'll just say "Let me prescribe an anti-depressant." I don't want any more drugs, so I'll stick with the Great Physician, God.

I know my struggle doesn't have to be wrapped up into a neat, tidy bow with all the answers. I know, even while I'm broken and tattered, that God is still working on me. He's refining me and teaching me. This depression is probably part of a condition called Seasonal Affective Disorder which affects many people during the darker, colder months. I've never been diagnosed with it, but I'm sure it's normal for most people to be a little depressed when the weather is gloomy. Some days are worse than others. These gray, rainy days make my mood more introspective. I'm going to have to work hard to get out of these doldrums. Maybe if I reach down and take hold of my bootstrap, I can pick myself up and dust myself off....afterall, tomorrow is another day.

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Prayers for healing answered!

Me inside the PET scan machine

This morning I was on the phone with one of my daughters and noticed another call coming in. The caller I.D. told me it was Dr. S, my radiation oncologist. Hurriedly, I got off the phone with my daughter and switched over to take the other call. Robin, the nurse at the oncology clinic, told me she had the results of the PET scan I had done yesterday. It was really funny, I didn't feel myself automatically brace for bad news like I would have done in the past. I listened intently as she told me the PET scan showed ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! I made her repeat herself to make sure I'd heard her clearly. I questioned her, "Nothing...what about the mass on the L-5 vertebrae that the MRI picked up. Dr. S told me she'd had 2 other radiologists read the report too and they'd all concurred that it was suspicious." "Nothing," said Robin, "absolutely nothing!" I was ecstatic!!!! God had given me a MIRACLE!

If you tell someone you've received a miracle, instantly they look at you like you're crazy! It's hard for some people to understand and accept the fact that God is still a God of miracles. There are those who believe that yes, God performed miracles back in Bible times, but surely not today...why not? Why can't they believe it? God says in His Word that He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He says He doesn't change. So, that tells me, if He performed miracles in Biblical times, He performs them today. 

Now the Bible says, Faith is the evidence of things not seen and I have chosen to live my life walking by faith. God has proved to me over and over again that He is trustworthy. He understands and knows every single aspect of my life and He really cares. It's not hard to walk by faith when you have clear evidence that you can trust God. Those who haven't experienced that kind of track record aren't so easy to teach the concept of faith.

When my family and friends began praying for me yesterday, why would I not expect to receive good results? The Bible says, the prayers of a righteous man availeth much. And it didn't even matter how many people were praying (although I think I had a small army lined up). It wouldn't have mattered if only one was praying and if that one person had been me. The Bible tells me that God hears our prayers and He answers them according to His will. 

I can only imagine the stunned look on the doctor's face as she read the radiology report from the PET scan. She had seen, with her own two eyes, the mass on the L-5 vertebrae last week. She'd even been so concerned over it, that she'd called in 2 other doctors to review the film. 3 doctors had seen the mass and called it suspicious...NOW IT WAS COMPLETELY GONE!!!  That was God. It couldn't have been anything else. Some folks might say, oh, there must have been some logical reason behind it. Maybe it was a smudge on the viewing box or maybe it was something that dissolved on its own. I don't think so. I believe in miracles.

It's been hard getting some of my family members to understand the reasoning behind my choosing not to take the prescribed anti-hormone therapy medication. But, as I've said in the past, I prayed about it and I felt a complete peace and assurance at my decision. I chose to go the natural route and enjoy a good quality of life that includes being free from cancer. Some of them just don't understand and want me to immediately start taking the medication now. They say I've just been lucky so far, that I've just "dodged a bullet" this time around but I don't believe in luck. Why should I take chemicals that will poison my body and make me feel terrible?

As I was praising and thanking God this morning for this wonderful news, He pointed me to Psalm 66:10 which says "For You, O God, have proved us; You have tried us as silver is tried, refined,and purified." I firmly believe God has used this cancer ordeal, over the last year, to refine me and make me more Christlike. I have learned so much from going through the fiery ordeal of cancer. If you've read my blog since it's inception, you're familiar with my feelings on this, but if you haven't...all I can say is cancer has been a blessing. I don't say that flippantly! Last year was the hardest year of my life but, I can say it has been a blessing because of all the things it's taught me. Even if I could, I would not have changed one thing because, the lessons I learned from going through all the pain and suffering I experienced were worth it. And it's still not over. I still experience daily pain as a result from the surgery, but I fight through it in His strength. 

God used the fire of cancer to heat up my life and cause the ugly impurities to rise to the surface where He could scoop them off and away from my life. What many thought was a broken and bruised incomplete woman has turned into a more deliberate, more intentional, woman of God. Not many get to experience such loving tenderness from God but I am so very thankful He chose me to refine and purify. 

Oh yes, the process hurt...more than you'll ever know but oh, how loving and kind God was to me during this time. He drew me closer and closer to Him. He taught me to lean into Him and to rest assuredly on Him in all things. He taught me that He can use ugliness and make it beautiful. He can take brokenness and make it whole again. He uses all things for His purposes. 

If you know me, you know I'm very visual, so right now, I'd like to take you through a portion of one of my earlier blog posts. In that post, I wrote about the art of Kintsugi. It's a Japanese art form but I think it's relevant for my post today, too. Here's an excerpt: (You can read it in its entirety here if you'd like to do so.)

There's an ancient Japanese story that tells about a Sakai tea man who found a brilliant Chinese tea jar. He was so pleased with his find that he invited the famed tea man Sen no Rikyu to a gathering of friends to show off the beautiful piece. But to the Sakai man’s amazement, when he served tea in the lovely piece, Sen no Rikyu paid no mind to the jar. Once Sen no Rikyu left, the Sakai man threw the tea jar against a wall, shattering it into pieces. His friends gathered the fragments and took them home where they mended the jar back together with gold lacquer. The same friends then invited Sen no Rikyu to a gathering of their own where they offered him tea in the mended jar. When Rikyu saw the mended tea jar he exclaimed, “Now the piece is magnificent!” 

Some link this story to the birth of “kintsugi”, an ancient Japanese art which translates, “patch with gold.” Kintsugi artists mend broken pieces of ceramics and pottery using gold lacquer, making the pieces more striking and unique than when they were pulled from the wheel or kiln. In a modern culture that often grades wholeness through the lens of perfection, Kintsugi offers a different perspective.

The art of Kintsugi rests in the truth that vessels are stronger and more magnificent because they have been made whole from brokenness, not because they are without imperfection. Each vessel—and every one of our lives—can tell a unique story if we no longer feel we must hide the scarred parts of our lives. “We want to be restored to health, but we don’t simply want what we once were. We want to be better, stronger, wiser for the pain, struggle, and sacrifice.”

Isn’t this the wholeness that we truly seek? We want to be restored to health, but we don’t simply want what we once were. We want to be better, stronger, wiser for the pain, struggle, and sacrifice. We want our scars to shimmer like gold and tell a beautiful story: namely, that what is broken can be whole again, and more beautiful than before. 

That broken vase, the art of Kintsugi, my scars from surgery...all of those tie in together. Breaking isn't something we ever intend to have happen but sometimes, it just does. We can let the brokenness make us bitter or make us better. We can throw away the chipped pieces or gently try to repair them. It's our choice. If we choose to fit the pieces back together again, the scars become part of the beautiful story of a damaged but restored life. This is where I am now. My body has been broken and while I can't fit the pieces back together again, I can allow the scars to be a precious reminder of everything I've been through. They can be a constant reminder that I am still living....that I am still fighting...that I am so blessed. 

So you see, God used the ugly, brokenness of breast cancer to show me His love for me. He used it to refine me and remove things in my life that didn't need to be there. He used it to teach me more about loving others. And that is why I am so grateful He chose to give me complete healing! What a wonderful picture of His love for me! He loved me so much that He cleansed me from the damaged cancer cells that had invaded my body and made it whole again!

Yes, I still have scars from the painful surgery I went through but they are battle scars! The victory has been won! Christ won it for me at Calvary when He took my sins and bore them on the cross. My small suffering, my pain, pale in comparison to what He did for me there. 

Oh, dear reader! Can you see it? Can you feel it? Can you understand the overwhelming joy He's given me? I hope you've been able to feel just a tiny bit of what I've tried to convey. Remember those few paragraphs above that talked about the art of Kintsugi? The brokenness of my life has been woven back together by the beautiful golden thread of God's love. I am whole again. If you look closely, you can see the broken places, but focus more intently and your eyes drift immediately to the brilliant gold of His grace. 

Won't you celebrate with me today? I'm so overjoyed that I'm dancing! In Ecclesiastes, the Bible tells us there is a time to dance! Believe me, that day, for me, is today!

© bonnie annis all rights reserved 

Broken but beautiful

I look at myself in the mirror. Even after 8 months, it is so hard. I am broken. I am scarred. I am mutilated. I could dwell on my appearance and become very sad and depressed, but it wouldn't change a thing. Yes, I am broken but I am still alive.

As I look at myself, I can only linger for a few moments. The woman staring back at me is someone I don't know. The scars are not pretty, in fact, they are disgusting. They've faded some over the months from glaring bright red to a softer, duller pink. I know with time, they'll fade even more but they'll always be there...a constant reminder of my battle...the fight for my life.

The mirror doesn't lie when it comes to physical appearances but Demi Lavato, in her pop song, "Believe in Me," says "The mirror can lie. Doesn't show you what's inside. And it, it can tell you you're full of life.It's amazing what you can hide just by putting on a smile.” Her lyrics are so true. Although I am broken on the outside, I do my best to hide that fact with a smile. Everyone thinks I'm okay when I'm smiling and sometimes, I even convince myself. Some days are worse than others. I still have those emotional ups and downs. I guess that comes with the territory of being a breast cancer survivor. I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels this way. So many of us walk among you...broken but still beautiful. You've probably walked right past us and didn't even have a clue...but we grow in number daily.

There are several photographers who've taken it upon themselves to capture our broken beauty. They want the world to know our secret...that we are still struggling, still fighting, still strong. When I first saw the Scar project online, I was amazed. It was so tastefully done. David Jay came up with the concept for this project. He is a professional photographer who has been shooting fashion and beauty for over 15 years. His images have appeared in a multitude of international magazines and advertising campaigns. Jay's stark, bold portraits challenge traditional perceptions of breast cancer and capture the raw beauty, strength and character of so many extraordinary young women. Each portrait represents a singular, stripped-down vision of the life-changing journey that unites survivors of this horrific disease.

After I finished watching the video, I wondered if I could possibly be brave enough to bare my scars for public scrutiny...I don't think I could. It's still too raw, but maybe some day. I applaud these women who choose to reveal themselves so unashamedly. They are the brave ones. They have real courage.

Another such project, the Grace Project, takes a different turn. It's still very tastefully done but Isis Charise,  the photographer, portrays the art of the Hellenistic period. She poses her subjects to reflect statues that have survived throughout history. These statues have missing body parts such as the famous statue of Venus de Milo. Isis thought it would be fitting to portray women who've undergone mastectomy in this fashion. The artwork is beautiful but I don't think I could ever be one of her subjects. I'm too private, although it would be an honor to be photographed so beautifully.

It amazes me that such talented photographers want to shoot such graphic images. Their abilities to soften and beautify the subjects with such love, respect, and grace is a true gift. Some people find such artistic displays difficult to accept because they don't follow the normal channel of what we conceive as art. Oliver Platt said, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," but I'm more inclined to agree with Martha Beck who says, "Although beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, the feeling of being beautiful exists solely in the mind of the beheld." I can be told all day long that I am beautiful, but unless I feel beautiful, it doesn't seem to matter.

No one can truly understand the emotional and physical devastation that breast cancer creates in a woman's life unless  they experience it first hand. These artistic images can help those who have not come close to it yet feel the raw reality. I hope you'll take time to view the two short video clips I've listed below. Let me warn you in advance, they are very graphic. Though hard to see, I hope they will touch your heart and help you see that while we, as breast cancer survivors, are broken, we are still beautiful.

© bonnie annis all rights reserved.


The Grace Project

The Scar Project

Demi Lovato Believe in Me