I love suffering, said nobody...EVER!

Suffering. Can it be considered a gift from God? Don't all of our gifts come from God and if so, why wouldn't we consider suffering any less of a gift than the gift of faith? I love everything in my life that comes from God, and if I really and truly mean that statement, I have to say, I love my sufferings.

This morning, I was thinking back over my life and how God has used painful physical ailments to teach me valuable lessons and grow my faith. In order for you to understand, I'll have to take you back into my past and share a little of my journey with you.

In 1970, as I had just completed the eighth grade in high school, I began to get extremely ill. Every morning, my stomach would do somersaults and I would experience extreme nausea  and pain. My mother took me to doctor after doctor trying to find the root of the problem. One doctor said I had hepatitis, another said I had an ulcer. Days and months passed as I continued to get worse. At her wits end, my mother took me to see a gastroenterologist, Dr. Girardeau, who told her to take me out to lunch and let me eat the greasiest thing on the menu and then bring me back for testing. I'm sure she thought it odd medical advice, I know I sure did. After a meal of greasy fried chicken, we headed back to the doctor and he did an ultrasound of my belly. The test showed exactly what the doctor suspected, gallstones. No wonder the other doctors couldn't find out what was wrong with me, usually teenagers don't suffer from gallstones! In early 1971, Surgery was scheduled and before surgery began, my gallbladder ruptured and gangrene was flowing through my body. This was a very dangerous situation and I was very close to death, but God wasn't quite ready for me to come home just yet. Dr. Girardeau worked quickly. After a rough physical struggle, I made it through surgery and recovery. I spent months at home getting stronger and even spent the first half of my ninth grade year being home schooled. During that time of serious illness, my walk with Christ was strengthened as I learned to rely on him for not only my physical comfort and well being, but even more importantly, for my spiritual health and well being. I was so physically weak that I spent many days in bed...all I could do was cry out to God for healing.

In 1991, I was involved in a serious motor vehicle accident. My car was totaled and my right leg was crushed below the knee. I was told in the hospital emergency room that my leg was going to have to be amputated and that I'd never walk again, but my family began to pray. On call that day was the top orthopedic surgeon in Gainesville's Northeast Georgia Medical Center, Dr. Bruce McAllister. God had strategically placed him there at the exact time I needed him. Dr. McAllister asked me if I wanted to walk again and I emphatically told him yes. He told me that he would do everything he could to help me realize that dream and he did. After a year and a half in a wheelchair with an external fixator on my leg with long steel pins holding my tibia and fibula together; I spent hour upon hour seeking God's face. I did everything the doctor told me to do and instead of losing my leg, God saved it. I graduated from the wheelchair to a year on crutches and finally was able to walk again. I was not about to give up the fight. God had promised me that I would walk again and I did. He allowed the motor vehicle accident to slow me down and gain my attention. I had been so self sufficient before my injury. God used that time to teach me about His character, His faithfulness, and His love.

Now it's 2014 and I find myself facing another health challenge. I am suffering from Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, stage 2 Breast Cancer. Once again, God is using the gift of suffering to draw me closer to Him. Sometimes I ask Him what else I need to learn...haven't I suffered enough? He lovingly and patiently waits for me to realize that my suffering is nothing compared to what He did for me on the cross. My suffering is nothing compared to martyrs all over the world who have been tortured for their faith. My suffering is but a brief and momentary affliction that He's allowed into my life to teach me more about His love for me.

It's hard to understand how suffering, faith, and love go hand in hand isn't it? It's normal to ask why a loving and caring God would allow one of His children to experience so much pain and agony. But in the asking, we have to remember that God's ways are not our ways. His ways are so much higher than ours. He has an ultimate goal in mind when He allows suffering into our lives. I don't know what the goal is yet, but whatever it is, I want it. For I know that His gift will be His best for me. If it means that I have to suffer for a while, then I will gladly suffer. And while suffering is never easy, it brings about great faith. God's love is evident in my life because through His gift of suffering, I find myself relying on Him to daily increase my faith. I know He has a reason and His reason is for my good.It's not easy to suffer, in fact, it's one of the hardest things I've ever had to do but God hasn't left me abandoned to fight this fight alone. I feel His presence daily surrounding me and guiding me.

Don't you just love to give gifts? We search for any occasion to go shopping and buy the perfect gift for those we love. Most gifts are exciting and unexpected. Part of the gift of giving blesses the receiver and part of it blesses the gift giver. For the receiver, the fun is opening up the gift and seeing what the giver has chosen. For the giver, it's fun to watch the face of the receiver as they anticipate opening the gift. But the gift of suffering...it's not as pleasant to accept. If we truly love all the wonderful gifts that God has chosen specifically for us then how can we refuse to accept His gift of suffering when He presents it for our benefit? Can we understand that He has taken the time to choose just the perfect type of suffering that He knows will bring about the goal He's specifically chosen for us? Sure it would be easy to push away the gift of suffering and refuse to accept it. In fact, I'm sure that would have been what I would have first chosen to do had I not experienced God's blessings through suffering in the past. But I can't refuse a gift from my loving Heavenly Father...one He's picked out with me in mind. Only He knows why this specific gift of Cancer was chosen for me. Only He knows what benefits it will yield in my life. I just have to wait for the gift to completely unfold in the days ahead and as the wrapping and ribbon are stripped away, maybe I'll come to understand why I was picked to be the recipient of such a carefully thought out gift.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

"And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace [Who imparts all blessing and favor], Who has called you to His [own] eternal glory in Christ Jesus, will Himself complete and make you what you ought to be, establish and ground you securely, and strengthen, and settle you." 1 Peter 5:10


"And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." 2 Corinthians 12:9

"Many [are] the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivereth him out of them all." Psalm 34:19

"O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable [are] his judgments, and his ways past finding out!" Romans 11:33

Tell all Tuesday

 Most of my blog posts have been on the inspirational side, but today I've decided to give you a glimpse into what my life is really like on a day to day basis.

Let me start with yesterday. I woke up at 5:30 in the morning which was shortly after my husband left for work. More than likely I subconsciously heard him close the front door and that is what startled me enough to wake me from a sound sleep. After getting my eyes adjusted to the early morning light that had just begun to peak into my windows; I reached toward the nightstand to retrieve my glasses. As soon as I reached over to get them I felt pain. It's easy to forget when you're sleeping that you've just had major surgery. After donning my glasses, I reach for my cell phone so that I could open up my Bible App and read the Bible. Since surgery, I’ve found it's a lot easier to hold my cell phone, which only weighs a few ounces, as opposed to my Bible which weighs a couple of pounds. I spend about an hour having my quiet time and devotion before getting up and starting the day.

It's quite a challenge to get out of bed. My husband has made a literal mountain of pillows that has helped me sleep in an upright position and be comfortable. In order to get out of the bed, I have to use my leg muscles to pull myself over to the edge of the bed and use my abdominal muscles to lift myself up. Since having all of the muscles removed from my chest and lymph nodes removed from underneath both arms, I'm unable to use my upper body without extreme pain. As I swing my legs over the side of the bed and raise myself into a sitting position, I have to sit there for a few minutes and allow my blood pressure to adjust so that I don't get swimmy headed.

I feel the weight of the drainage bulbs dangling from my chest. I feel the pulling and tugging of the drainage tubes where they are inserted under my armpits and held in place with stitches. Every movement I make seems to tug on these tubes. I slide off the bed and slowly try to stand erect. My chest wall feels strained and hollow. It is an effort to stand up straight. I manage to pad slowly into the bathroom where I go through the process of draining out the Jackson Perkins drainage bulbs. Thankfully I only have two of these drainage bulbs, one on each side of my chest. Some women have four or more after having their breasts removed. The process of draining the bulbs is slow and tedious. Each bulb has to be uncapped and then allowed to expand before the contents can be expelled. The fluid in each bulb is a bright orangey red and consists of blood, blood clots, and lymphatic fluid. There are markings on each bulb which indicate the number of cc’s. I am to record the amount of fluid extracted three times a day.

After emptying the bulbs next comes the chore of milking the bulbs. This requires me to pinch the drainage tube tightly against my body with one hand while using the other hand to slowly pull along the line forcing any leftover contents into the bulb for emptying. After the bulbs have been emptied and the contents recorded, I then proceed to get dressed. My chest is so sensitive I can barely stand anything to touch it and so I choose very large loose cotton button up shirts. Since I am unable to raise my arms over my head, button up shirts provide easier access for dressing.

By the time I am dressed, I am already feeling exhausted. I make myself go into the kitchen to try to find something to eat. I pull open the fridge door and grab a Greek yogurt. Taking it with me to my office, I sit down to write my blog. My arms hurt too badly to reach forward and touch the keys on my laptop so I choose to use a voice to text program called Dragon dramatically speaking. This program allows me to don a headset with a built-in microphone and speak what ever I want to say. The program does the typing for me. I enjoy writing in my blog every day. It not only helps me process my feelings but helps me feel a part of the real world. Being cooped up in the house all day without ever seeing a soul until my husband comes home from work is difficult. I like to be around people and feel their energy.

I sit at the computer for several hours writing my blog, answering e-mails, surfing the web. Before I know it it's time for lunch. I work my way back into the kitchen and begin to make a sandwich. As soon as I have it prepared, my cell phone rings. It's one of my daughters checking in for the day. My daughter Jamie calls me first thing every morning on her way to work. She likes to chat while she drives. She talks about her relationship with her new boyfriend or about her new job. I love hearing the excitement in her voice and this routine has become something I expect daily. She also calls me every day on her lunch break.

As soon as I hang up the phone with Jamie, my daughter Erin is calling in. Erin calls me several times a day too. She calls to tell me how things are going with the kids or ask me a random cooking question. She doesn't think I know that she is calling to check up on me and make sure I'm okay, but I do. I'm so thankful that Jamie and Erin make time to touch base with me every day.

I lift the plate and carry my lunch over to the dining room table. I'm surprised at the weight of the plate with the food on it. It seems so heavy and I struggle with it. I walk back to get a glass of water, again I'm astounded by the weight of the glass with the water in it. I feel like such a weakling! This surgery has taken a lot out of me physically. I'm just beginning to realize just how much it has affected me.

After cleaning off the table, I sit down in my recliner to catch up on a few recorded television programs. I realize as I sit down that I am in a lot of pain. Could just those little movements have caused me to hurt this much? I reach for a pain pill. Within 30 min. I find myself nodding off in front of the television. I must have fallen into a very deep sleep because when I wake up it's an hour later and I see that the UPS driver has left a package on the table by the front door. I feel embarrassed because I know that he was able to look through the sidelights beside the door and see me asleep in the recliner. I think to myself. I need to do something to cover those sidelights.

I walk to the front door and retrieve the package. It is extremely heavy. I look at the wording on the outside of the package and it says "keep a breast foundation.org". Now I realize this is the breast casting kit I had ordered several weeks ago and expected to receive before my surgery. It's a little too late and that makes me sad. It would have been so nice to have received this in time to make a breast cast before my mastectomies. I take the kit and put it away hoping I'll find someone to give it to in the future.

It's after four o'clock now and I decide to do some reading. I pick up several books on breast cancer and find one that I want to read. The book I choose has helpful information on getting through chemotherapy and radiation. As I read it I become overwhelmed and have to put it down. My brain feels like it is in major overload mode.

I just realized I did not empty and drain the bulbs at lunch time! I hurry into the bathroom and go through that whole process again. It is disgusting seeing clots of my own blood collected in these clear drainage bulbs. I am thankful I do not have a very weak stomach otherwise I would be unable to do this by myself.

I hear the back door opening and hubby coming in from work. He shouts in an energetic "hey honey, I'm home"! As he comes in the door he hands me the mail. This is the highlight of my day. Among several bills are a handful of greeting cards all addressed to me. I feel so special and so loved. Many of my friends have taken time to write me a note of encouragement. I sit down and savor each one by reading it over and over.

Hubby goes to get a shower and I tried to figure out what I'm going to make for supper. I'm not strong enough to lift the heavy cookware. I don't have anything frozen that I can just pop into the microwave or the crockpot. How I wish we had friends here that would be willing to help make a few meals. The easiest thing I can fix is hot dogs. I am sad because I don't want to serve my husband hot dogs after he's worked a long hard day. I don't have strength to cook anything else. He doesn't complain and I'm thankful.

After dinner we sit down to watch the news. I can't get comfortable in the recliner and ask him if he can help adjust my pillows. He gets up and comes over to help me. The drainage tubes are really pulling against my skin. I'm wondering if they have gotten infected. I asked him if he will look at them later and change the bandages. He says he
will.

We sit and watch “The Bachelor” together. I think it's funny that my husband has gotten so much enjoyment from the program. We make comments and laugh. It's good to have someone to talk with after having had such a lonely day.

Soon the show is over and it's time to make hubby's lunch for tomorrow. I try to bend over and pick up his lunch box but it hurts too much. He has to hand it to me. After getting his lunch prepared it's time to go to bed. Hubby readjusts the mountain of pillows. I look at the pillows and am thankful that we have so many! Without them there is no way I could get comfortable enough to sleep.

I ask hubby if he can help me wash my hair before bed. He walks into the bathroom and adjust the water temperature. As I lean over the shower he pulls the showerhead down and begins to wet my hair and the front of my nightgown and my feet! I began shouting at him that he's getting me all wet. He apologizes and tries a little harder. Finally he finishes and hands me a towel to dry off with. The entire front of my gown is soaking wet. I do the best I can to dry it off.

 

It's time to go through the process of emptying the drainage bulbs again and milking the tubes. I'm thankful that hubby helps me this time. Slowly he helps me remove my nightgown and take down the camisole top. He inspects the bandages and removes the ones that need to be replaced. Carefully he tapes new gauze over my incisions. As he pulls off the old tape, I have to remind him to be gentle. My skin is super sensitive.

After we're done he helps me put on my nightgown again and make sure the bulbs are pinned safely out of the way. He waits patiently beside me as I use my legs to inch my way slowly onto the bed and up to the mountain of pillows. I am exhausted after I finally get situated. He turns out the light and crawls into bed. I lay there with tears running down my face. He tells me not to worry that things will get better soon. All I can think is this journey has just begun. I know when I go for my post op visit on Friday, I'll get information on the pathology findings from the lymph node removal. I'll probably find out that I'm to have chemo or radiation along with hormone therapy. There are many unknowns coming down the road. Hubby tells me to take one day at a time and I'm trying but it's not easy....

Time to put on my big girl panties

“Its time to put on your big girl panties!” Where did that come from??? That's what I heard in my mind at the same time the radiologist was telling me that I had Breast Cancer. Time to grow up, move on and be an adult. But the little girl inside me was screaming, No! I don’t want to.” I argued with the little girl inside and said “Sometimes you don’t want to, but you have to. Because you’re a big girl.” Putting on your Big Girl Panties means many times you have to do something hard, even when you don't want to, even when you don't FEEL like it.

Big girl panties mean more than just panties. They mean you are an adult. You have to be responsible even when its hard. You have to pay your bills on time. Obey the rules. Be on time. Do your best. And why do you have to do your best? Because you wear the big girl panties!

When you have on your big girl panties, you learn to stand up for yourself. You can say yes or you can say no. It's your choice...because you’re a big girl. Wear the panties.

When you wear your big girl panties, you are fierce! You put your best foot forward, put on your war paint and face the day with gusto. You are powerful! You can take the day and make it yours. You can say bring it on and mean it.

Women look good in big girl panties and no, they don't look like your grannies panties! What do they look like? Well, it depends on your own personal pair of big girl panties! Yours are probably very different than mine. Yours may be a beautiful, frilly, lacy, pair of sexy black lingerie. Yours may even be a thong but mine definitely are not! Whatever they look like, they are your own private pair of big girl panties. No one need ever see them.

But sometimes it's hard to put on the big girl panties. Especially when you're in pain. When you just feel like you want to curl up in bed and stay there forever. You want to take the big girl panties and chuck them across the room. You don't want to even look at them much less remember you have them.

Do all women own a pair of big girl panties? And if so, how did we get them? I don't remember where mine came from or when I first learned to use them. Maybe they were nestled snugly in the items my mother brought home from the hospital, perhaps they were hidden among bibs, tshirts, and diapers. Perhaps they were packaged in a little box with the instructions "do not open until crisis occurs" imprinted ever so boldly on a hanging tag. Wherever they came from, I wish I could send them back.

I've had on my big girl panties for the past few days. They've helped me get past the reality of Cancer but today, they are wadded up in the corner of my bedroom lying on the floor. I don't want to be an adult today. I don't want to be responsible today. I don't want to suck it up and move on.

Today I think I'm going to go commando! Today I'm going to throw caution to the wind. I'm going to let it all hang out. I'm going to be free. I'm not going to live up to anyone's expectations. I'm not going to "do the right thing." I'm just going to crawl back into bed, move my drainage tubes aside and slide onto my mountain of pillows. I'm going to pull the covers up over my head, turn out the light and close my eyes.

My big girl panties will still be crumpled up against the wall when I decide to get up. Maybe I'll pick them up and gingerly fold them and maybe I won't. Whatever I decide to do, it will be my decision. And if you see my big girl panties run up on a flagpole for everyone to see, don't be surprised. Perhaps you'll salute them in my honor. Perhaps you'll smile at them and think about your own big girl panties and when you're going to step into them next.

Big girl panties. We all step into them one leg at a time whenever we need to take on a challenge that requires the strength that God gives especially to women. In fact, speaking of God, I think He's the one that gave me my first pair of big girl panties. They were invisible to the eyes of others but I could see them. I could see they were sewn with hands of love and hemmed with seams of trust. They had bands of elastic forged from His strength. Those big girl panties had one size fits all imprinted on the inside band. On the tag was embroidered the following: "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”... 2 Cor. 12:9 I know I still have them somewhere. Oh wait, I think I see something sticking out from under the bed...

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Hindsight is 20/20

When I was growing up, one of my favorite memories is hearing my mother saying "don't you ever forget I have eyes in the back of my head." It did seem that her statement was true since she would often "see" things that we did behind closed doors and even through walls. As I became a mother and had children of my own, I often quoted the same statement. My children knew that I had the "super power" of being able to see things that were happening even in rooms where I wasn't present.

There's an old saying that goes "hindsight is 20/20." The saying is easily understood meaning that as we look back on a situation, we can often see clearly what we couldn't see while in the midst of the situation. I've experienced this many times in my life but especially on this journey through the valley of Cancer.

Around March 1, I was taking a shower when I discovered a hard mass in my right breast. It didn't feel like the typical lump that most people talk about finding during breast self examinations, so I didn't think much about it. We were in the process of putting our home up for sale and moving to a new location so we were extremely busy. Very quickly I forgot about finding the mass and threw myself into packing and moving. Before the end of March, we'd moved into a lovely new home and were busy unpacking. The days went quickly by and within weeks, we felt settled and situated. Today is the fourth day following my double mastectomies and as I look back on all the events that have led up to this day, I realize that although I didn't see clearly what was going on, God did.

God has amazing character attributes and one of the attributes that I admire most is His love and His provision. To understand His character more clearly, it's beneficial to study about His names. One of my favorites is His name, Jehovah Jireh. This name means "The Lord Provides" or "God our Provider." The name is derived from two Latin words, pro (meaning before or beforehand) and video- (meaning to see, or see). To clarify for you, this name of God means that He sees beforehand. He realizes and provides for our needs even before we know we have a need. It's important for you to understand this concept as I look back over my Cancer journey to date.

A timeline will help you see a little more easily how God saw my needs beforehand and provided for them even when I wasn't aware of what He was doing. (I'll make notes in red of God's special provisions.)

March 1: I discovered the mass in my breast (I was not afraid when I felt the mass. God gave me a sense of peace that I can only explain as His protection as I look backward at the situation.)
March 28: We closed on our home (our home wasn't even on the market a full week before we had a contract on it! God made provision even when we were afraid our older home wouldn't sell!)
March 29: We moved into our new home (God provided a home only 8 miles from my husband's workplace. It's much smaller so it's less to take care of and is only one level! God knew I wouldn't be able to perform a lot of housework once I found out that Cancer would be a new part of my life.)
May 1: I kept feeling a nagging sense that I needed to find a doctor in Newnan (God prompted me over and over again so I wouldn't ignore the mass in my breast. Even though it felt like nothing much to me, He knew it needed immediate attention!)
May 16: I did an internet search to find an OB/GYN in this area (I had no idea what kind of doctor I needed to see about the mass but God prompted me to call an OB/GYN)
May 27: I had my first appointment with Dr. Dyson (the OB/GYN) where she felt the mass and referred me to have more testing done at Southern Cresent Women's Healthcare (God gave wisdom to the doctor to send me for further testing and I am very grateful for not only His prompting, but her listening!)
May 28: I had two diagnostic mammograms done and an ultrasound. The radiologist discovered a suspicious mass and suggested I have a vacuum core needle biopsy done (God allowed the radiologist to see clearly that there was a problem on the ultrasound screen. I remember the doctor commenting that the mass looked like a one armed crab. Crab, by the way, is the meaning of the word Cancer!)
June 2: I had the vacuum core needle biopsy done and tissue samples sent to pathology (God prompted the radiologist to order further testing. The tissue samples revealed the malignant cells)
June 5: I received the oral report from the doctor of radiology that my tissue was malignant (CANCER) (God knew before I did that the report was going to reveal Cancerous cells in the mass. When I answered the phone call, I had no idea that I would receive the shocking news while I was alone in the house. God knew I needed to process it in my own way and in my own timing therefore, He allowed the call to come when no one was home but me.)
June 6: I received a written copy of the pathology report in the mail (God knew I needed to see the results in writing so He prompted the written report to be mailed so quickly.)
June 9: Dr. Dyson's office recommended I see Dr. Nicole Sroka (a breast specialist surgeon) in Fayetteville (God had already planned for me to see one of the best breast surgeons in Georgia even before Dr. Dyson's office recommended Dr. Sroka! When I did research on her via the internet, I found that she is one of the very best in this area. Why would God give me anything less than the very best...afterall, He loves me with an everlasting love!)
June 11: Dr. Sroka met with me for over 2 hours discussing all aspects of surgery giving detailed diagrams and advice (God knows I am a very visual person so He worked it out so Dr. Sroka would be running late that day which in turn caused our appointment to run an hour late. The office staff had already left at 5pm but Dr. Sroka told me she was going to sit down with me and take as long as I needed so she could make sure I understood exactly what was going on and what the game plan would be. She stayed with me in the exam room for 2 hours sketching and explaining every little detail of the surgery to me. She was extremely patient and kind. God reassured me that He had everything under control!)
June 23: We met with a lawyer to prepare our personal wills (God knows I'm a practical person and allowed us to have time to take care of business before my surgery. He provided an attorney who helped us write up wills, medical directives, and powers of attorney.)
June 28: Two very dear friends came to spend the day with us and ministered God's love to me (God knew how scared I was about the surgery and he sent one of my very best friends to come and comfort me!)
July 2: My daughter, Laura, came to stay overnight with us and take me to my pre-operative appointments (God knew I would need extra moral support, so He prompted Laura to want to come be with me during testing)
July 3: Pre-operative tests were performed at Piedmont Hospital in Fayetteville (God knew all the tests that the doctor would need to have done before my surgery. He provided kind people to assist me and make sure my needs were met)
July 4: We traveled to the beach for a mini vacation and to process all of the medical news we'd received (God knows how long it takes me to process things and He made a way for us to spend time at the beach. A hurricane was brewing off the coast of Florida and we thought the trip would be a total wash out, but God blew the hurricane winds away and let us have bright, sunny days of perfection!)
July 7: We returned home (God gave us a safe trip back home and allowed us time to spend in prayer before more testing)
July 8: Returned to Piedmont Fayetteville for radioactive dye injections in both breasts (God prompted the doctor to order these tests to reveal whether or not malignant cells were in my lymph nodes)
July 9: Surgery was performed to remove both breasts and lymph nodes from each arm (Surgery took about 4 hours. God guided Dr. Sroka's hands and brought me through the surgery safely.)
July 10: Released from the hospital late day (around 5:30 p.m.) (Nurses were very busy but God provided one lab tech,named Darci, to be my constant help. She went above and beyond the call of duty to serve me. God allowed me to progress in my healing so I could leave the hospital and be back in the comforts of my home)
July 12: My new friend, Karen Fedder, came to visit and share about her Cancer journey (God provided a sweet new friend who's already traveled the Cancer road. She has been able to give me advice, helpful hints, tips and help me know what to expect without sugar coating anything.)

This week, on July 17, my daughter, Laura, will come to stay overnight again so she can drive me to the doctor's office on July 18. I will receive my post operative report that day and will learn my treatment plan. Whatever the results may be, I know that God already knows them. Whatever the tests reveal, I know He's going to walk me through the next steps of treatment.

We are often taken by surprise whenever we experience unexpected circumstances or events in our lives but God is never surprised! He knows in advance what the future holds for us. He cares about anything that touches our lives and He has already made provision for our needs! Looking backward, it's easier to see how God's provided exactly what we needed when in the midst of trials, although sometimes we wonder if He's even there while we're going through them. I'm so thankful that God sees everything beforehand. I'm also thankful that I don't really have eyes in the back of my head. I have enough to process in the things I can see right in front of me. I don't think I could handle it if I could see what's going on behind me at the same time! While hindsight is 20/20, I'm glad God often conceals things in my path until He knows I'm ready to process and handle them. He is so merciful and kind! I am so thankful that He is trustworthy too!

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

What's your fortune?

There's a little Chinese place down the road from me. Sometimes on the weekend when I don't feel like cooking, I'll get hubby to run down and pick  up some lunch. Today was one of those days. Although I didn't really feel like eating anything, I knew I had to eat something to keep my strength up so I ordered vegetable Egg Foo Young.

Jamie, my youngest daughter, and I sat down with our Chinese food and popped a movie in. We enjoyed our lunch and when it was time to  read our fortune cookies, I opened mine first. I couldn't believe what it said on the little slip of paper - "A carrot a day may keep cancer away." REALLY? If I'd known that, I could have foregone all of this pain. I wonder who comes up with these silly statements anyway?

For years, I didn't eat fortune cookies. I didn't care for the taste, but I'd crack those things open for the fortune. That was one of the best parts of the meal. When I was in college, while sitting with a group of friends, the game was that you had to read the fortune aloud to the rest of the table. Everyone would add two words to the end of the fortune making it hilariously funny. The two words that were added were the words "in bed." Most of the fortunes took on a whole new meaning by just adding those two little words, for example: "your life may be filled with magical moments...in bed" or "it never pays to kick a skunk...in bed." But today's fortune wasn't funny even with the two little words "in bed" added to the end of the statement - "a carrot a day may keep cancer away...in bed." No. Definitely not funny. 

I did laugh thinking about the person who was paid to write fortune cookie sayings for a living. I could just picture the job description in my mind:  "Need sharp thinking individual with strong writing and communication skills, as well as a quick wit and sense of humor. Personally rewarding career for a unique individual but don't expect to get paid very handsomely … in bed." LOL!

People often take fortune cookie messages to heart. They crack open the yellow crescent moon cookies that conclude their Chinese restaurant meal, and eagerly hunt for predictions, revelations, and deeper meaning. Many save their favorites, carrying them around in a wallet or purse thinking the cosmos has imparted a divine snippet of wisdom chosen personally for them. Others simply toss their little slips of paper into the waste with the leftovers from their meal knowing it will soon end up in the garbage.

For most of us, it's just a silly childish game we play to add a bit of humor into our day. For me though, the carrot/cancer fortune wasn't funny. In fact, I really wished that the person who'd come up with that statement could have seen my face as I read it. I would have loved for him/her to see me sitting on my bed with the clear plastic vials of bodily fluids pumping into them as the wounds from my mastectomies slowly healed. Perhaps then the writer would have taken a different approach to writing silly cookie fortunes. Perhaps he/she would have changed the saying to read "Wise man never upsets woman with blood grenades dangling from chest...in bed" instead of using a flippant statement filled with stupidity.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

This is not a game (warning graphic picture in this post)

These are my drainage grenades

When the TV reality game show, Survivor, aired in May 2000, I was intrigued. I watched intently as a group of strangers was marooned in a desolate location. The group was given very little in the way of survival implements and had to learn to use what they had to make it through 39 days of game play.

During the time they were involved in the game, they were to use whatever method available to outwit, outplay and outlast the other members of the tribe. The last person standing would receive the title of sole survivor and receive a million dollar prize.

To make the show more interesting for TV, producers made sure to choose players with colorful character. Conflict often would boost ratings for the show. Although the game was manipulated to provide exciting TV content, the basis behind the game got my attention. I didn't focus on the social game they were playing but rather on the skill set that each member of the tribe had to draw on for strength. A few of the players boldly professed their faith in God while others vainly pumped themselves up. Their strategies and attitudes shifted and changed throughout the game. It was entertaining to say the least for the first few series. Now the game has become old hat and they are struggling to find new ways to make the show interesting again and hold viewers attention.

I always wondered what it would be like to be able to claim the title of sole survivor. I wondered if the players friends and even their enemies would hold them in high esteem after making it through the 39 days on the show. As honorable as that TV series title might seem to the winning player, the title does nothing more than represent an accomplishment in a game. It has nothing to do with the skills required to make it through real life situations like Breast Cancer.

Breast Cancer is not a game. It is a life changing event. Sometimes, it swoops in like a huge, black vulture seeking to gobble up its prey. Other times, it silently slides in like sunlight under a door gently moving along undetected. The people who end up in the Breast Cancer challenge don't get to choose whether or not they want to be involved. Breast Cancer does the choosing. There is no game host helping to pick players who might make the show interesting and fun.

Just a few days ago, I had surgery to remove both breasts. The moment the doctor removed that last piece of tissue from my chest wall I became a Breast Cancer Survivor. While this is a title that I am honored to hold, I would never have chosen it for myself.

These past few days have been very difficult. I've dealt with pain I've never experienced before- both emotionally and physically. I've had to accept the challenge of facing a new body image, one that is no longer healthy and whole. I've had to deal with the humiliation of having others help me dress and bathe. I've watched through tear filled eyes as my husband or daughter help empty my drainage grenades. I've had to be reminded daily that I no longer have my femininity. I have been humbled and abased but I am alive. I am surviving. I won't win a million dollar prize, but my life is much more valuable than that and I am honored to be able to feel my heart beating inside my chest. I am thankful that my lungs fill with life giving air. I am grateful for eyes that see and ears that hear. Survivor. I'll take that title and know I've earned it for now although my Cancer valley has just begun.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Accepting my reflection

Yesterday, as I left the hospital, the physician's assistant told  me I could take a shower on Friday. I was so happy to hear those words because I felt so grungy! Having had to skip a shower the day after my surgery made me feel so unclean and unkempt. I was so sore from surgery, I couldn't even reach up to comb my hair.

This morning, I got up before my husband and my daughter. Slowly but surely, I managed to get clothes laid out and arranged my toiletries so I could get that coveted shower. Of course, I had to wait for someone to get up to help me because I have to be very careful of the incisions and the drainage bottles and hoses.

Phil heard me stirring around and woke up. I told him that I'd like him to help me get a shower. He came into the bathroom to help me loosen the compression top they'd put on me in the hospital but before he actually unfastened it, I began to cry. I told him that I didn't want to see my chest yet...that I just wasn't ready for that. He understood and just told me to keep looking up while he undid the velcro fasteners. After he had the compression top off of me and we'd pinned the drainage bottles to a lanyard so they wouldn't be swinging freely from my body in the shower and possibly pull loose, he left me alone.

I turned the water on and let it run until the temperature was a little cooler than normal and then I stepped in. I was so thankful that our new house has a walk in shower! I stood there for several minutes just letting the warm water run down my back. It felt divine. Very carefully, I began to wash my body, all the while never looking down at my chest. When I was done, I towel dried off. I knew I was going to have to look in the mirror at some point, so it might as well be now.

I was afraid to see my reflection but made myself look. It wasn't a pretty site and I honestly felt like I was looking at someone else in the mirror. I just didn't look like me any longer. There were two large hollowed out spaces where my breasts used to be. There were long horizontal incisions running from mid chest to back underneath my arm pits. I am thankful that I didn't faint when I saw them but I had been mentally preparing myself for this moment from the time I stepped into the shower. I didn't know how I was going to react the first time I saw the incisions so I wanted to be alone in case I had a major meltdown. Remarkably, I was able to look at my chest and just say "thank you God."

My reflection in the mirror is just an outward appearance. It doesn't reflect what is in my heart, my soul or my mind. As difficult as it was for me to look at my chest, I was reminded that when God looks at me, He sees His Son, Jesus. He doesn't look on our outward appearance but instead looks upon our heart. He sees the real me, the inside me.

Accepting these scars is hard but without them, I wouldn't have the prognosis for a longer life. Yes the Cancer has left a permanent mark on my body, but it can't touch the inside me unless I let it. My reflection in the mirror has changed dramatically, it's true, but I am just thankful that I can look upon those scars and know that God has brought me through this part of my journey. I know He's going to continue to be with me through every step of the rest of my journey too. If He can love me like this, then I think I'd better learn to love me too....scars and all. My reflection is just a picture of who I am right now not who I will be in the days ahead.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved