4 Simple words

How many times have you said these four simple words, "I'm praying for you?" When you said them, did you really mean them? Did you remember to stop and take time to pray for the person? Did you do it in the very moment, or did you make a mental note to remember them in your bedtime prayers or at the dinner table? Those four words are powerful! If you say them, please mean them!


I have heard the words "I'm praying for you" more times since my diagnosis of Breast Cancer than ever before. Most of the time, the words are spoken by family or close friends but today, I heard those words from a complete stranger and they melted my heart.

The body shop called to tell me our car was ready for pickup. Last week, a big, black lab ran out in front of my husband on his way home from work. There was nothing he could do because of oncoming traffic. Of course, it killed the dog, upset my husband greatly, and damaged our car. The lady from the body shop was probably just a receptionist but that doesn't matter because she represented Christ. As I explained to her our need to have someone from the body shop follow my husband home with car since I was currently unable to drive; I could hear hesitancy in her voice. I continued to explain that I'd just recently been diagnosed with cancer and had just had my breasts removed. A quiet hush fell over the phone and then she assured me that they would work out the details and for me not to worry. I could hear in her voice that she had compassion and I asked if she lived around here. She didn't, but lived in a town close by. I asked if she knew of a good church in this area because we were looking for one, and she said she certainly did. As she gave me the name of the church she attends, she took time to give me service times and information on home groups too. I thanked her and as we ended the conversation, she said, in a very sweet tone, "Mrs. Annis, I'm praying for you."

A complete stranger. Someone I probably will never have the pleasure of meeting, wanted me to know that she would be praying for me. Most people would dismiss those four little words, but I didn't. I take the power of prayer very seriously. I am honored whenever someone tells me they are praying for me. To me, there's no higher honor than to take the needs of others before the throne.

The next time you hear a prayer need and before you respond, don't say "I'll pray for you" unless you really mean it. God holds us accountable for our actions, both good and bad. You'll never know how desperately someone might just need to be reassured that God really loves them and cares about them. I'm thankful that I was that person today and that the person on the other end of the phone was putting her faith in action. "I'm praying for you" isn't hard to say but don't say it flippantly...when you say it, go to the Lord in prayer and lift up the person in need. If you don't know what the specific need might be, don't worry! God knows what the need is and He will meet it in His own special way and time. You may not need to hear those words as often as I do, but they sure mean a lot more to me when I know action follows the sentiment!

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Insomnia makes a sorry bedfellow

Insomnia, or trouble sleeping, is a common problem for many people, but for patients with cancer, insomnia seems to be a lesser symptom among the many attributed to the disease.  Insomnia can present as difficulty falling asleep, multiple awakenings during the night, or early morning awakenings with the inability to get back to sleep. The potential causes of insomnia are many. A personal or family history of insomnia, the presence of a depression or an anxiety disorder, advanced age, and female gender all put a patient at higher risk of developing insomnia. Factors that may contribute to the development of insomnia include: certain medications, hospitalization, chemo, radiation, or hormonal therapy, pain, hot flashes, nausea and vomiting.

Oh how I long for a good night's sleep! Since having surgery, I've tried just about everything I know and nothing seems to be working. My chest is so raw and tender I can barely stand for anything to touch it. The 14 inch long incisions travel out from the middle of my chest on each side to just past my armpits on my back. My sweet husband has tried to form a wedge shaped pillow mountain hoping I would be able to lie comfortably on it and sleep well throughout the night, but even his most valiant efforts haven't done the trick. Melatonin, Sleeptime tea, Benadryl, ZZZquil, even a glass of wine...nothing allows me to sleep throughout the night. I am soooo tired, and when you're physically tired your mind doesn't function well either.

I'm a side sleeper and always have been. I love curling up on my right side, tucking my arm underneath my pillows and slipping into dreamland. Since my surgery, I physically can't sleep on my side any longer because of the pain involved with my incisions. If I stretch or move in the wrong way, I'm reminded the surgeon recently penetrated not only my skin but multiple layers of tissue and muscle underneath. 

Sleep is designed to help your body rest, recover and repair. A lack of sleep has been proven to be detrimental to your health, in fact, it can even promote tumor growth in cancer patients. So what's a woman to do? Should I try to take a nap sometime today in my recliner? Should I stay awake as long as I can and go to bed earlier tonight? I don't know but I am hoping this cycle of sleeplessness will soon be over. Tonight I'm going to claim Psalm 4:8 " In peace I will both lie down and sleep, for You, Lord, alone make me dwell in safety and confident trust." (Amplified Bible)

Would you say a little prayer that I can sleep soundly too, please? Thank you in advance...

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

My own social experiment

If you read my post yesterday, you know I had issues with the fake boobs that came with my post surgical camisole. Instead of wearing them, I chose not to and found out some things about myself that I had not realized.

I've always enjoyed watching television shows that use social experiments to gauge people's reactions to various situations. There are many out there, "What would you do?," "Survivor," "Married at First Sight," etc. When I was in high school, I loved studying psychology and understanding how the mind works. There have been many studies done on reality TV, Facebook, and Twitter with regard to why we enjoy sharing so much detail about our own personal lives. Yesterday, I conducted my own personal social experiment although I did not realize that is what I was doing at the time.

After my visit to the doctor's office for a post surgical check up, my daughter, Laura, and I decided to do a little shopping. We drove into town, got out of the car, and proceeded to go into a new women's boutique on the square. I was fine as we entered and began looking around at the clothing. Within just a few minutes, however, I realized there were other women in the shop and whether self consciously or subconsciously, found myself moving my arms into position to hide my very flat chest.

While we were looking at the racks of clothes, I was fine because I was able to turn my body so my chest was hidden by the clothing. I found myself not caring about my physical appearance when no one was close by, but when they came into our section, I would either turn my back to them, or try to shield my chest from their view. At the register, when I was about to pay for my selection of clothing, I realized again, that I was trying to camouflage my chest. I had leaned slightly forward to allow my large shirt to swing forward creating an illusion of breast fullness. Why was I doing this?

As I've processed the events from yesterday, I realized that although I said I didn't really care that I was flat chested, apparently I do. Perhaps I'm still dealing with the shock of breast cancer and what it's done to me. Perhaps I felt socially unacceptable while in a women's clothing store surrounded by voluptuous women. I do know I was very self aware and felt I was "less than" any of the other shoppers.

Today Laura and I are returning to that same little women's boutique. We found some great deals yesterday and plan to take advantage of those again today. This morning, as I showered and got ready for our shopping excursion, I pulled out my post surgical camisole. This time, however, I inserted the poly filled breast forms. I pulled it up and turned to look at myself sideways in the mirror. There were now nice, plump breasts where yesterday's flatness had been. This is the first time I've had a bust line in two weeks. I wonder how I'll react as we go shopping today. Will I constantly check to see that the fake boobs are aligned and in place or will I barely notice them at all? Will anyone stare at my chest thinking "boy, she is well endowed"? My own little social experiment will probably reveal even more about me that I haven't realized. I'm curious as to what I might find. 

It was interesting to read about various social experiments and the reactions of others. It's very different to be your own social experiment! It amazes me how vain I really am and how important it is for me to want to fit in and be like others around me. When did the social conditioning begin? Why does it matter so much? There are so many unanswered questions, but no one can really tell you how to "do" cancer. You just have to muddle through and make the best of a bad situation...and that's exactly what I'm doing as I take one day at a time, one situation at a time. I am my own social experiment.

Falsies

When I first had my breast surgery, I was afraid to look in the mirror. I didn't even want to see what I looked like when the breast surgeon changed my bandages a week after surgery, but I made myself look a few days later when I got my first after surgery shower. I cried, but then I realized at least I was alive. What great difference would having "boobs" make in my life anyway?

Catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, I smoothed down my shirt and smiled. Most women in their mid 50s worry about their top half sagging, but not me. Though I've never been well endowed, my once size C breasts had been transformed into flat nothingness. I feel lighter and less encumbered. The scale even reveals I've lost weight since my surgery...I wonder how much each of them weighed???

Today, I'm going back to see the doctor because I have some unnatural swelling. She warned me that I could develop a seroma (a fluid filled sack of lymphatic fluid) after my surgery. My daughter is coming to take me since I can't drive yet, and I thought just maybe, I would insert the polyfilled breast forms into my camisole so I would look a little better.

I took the tan, fabric colored poly filled breasts forms and held them in my hands. These were loaners from a new friend of mine. She was kind enough to lend me a post surgical camisole complete with fake boobs ("foobs" in the breast cancer world). Since surgery, I haven't been able to stand anything touching my chest. The incisions are so tender and raw but the camisole she lent me has helped protect my chest from undue friction and pain. These "foobs" must be a size DD! They seemed huge to me! I inserted the breast forms into the camisole. It has special pockets sewn right into the top especially for holding the "foobs" in place. After inserting them, I slowly repositioned the camisole over my chest. The poly filled forms weren't too heavy, in fact, you could barely feel them.


I looked at my profile in the mirror. The only difference between Barbie (made by Mattel) and me was the scarring. But that didn't bother me because it signified everything I'd been through. These breast forms were massive though and just didn't look natural to me. These would never do. I removed the breast forms and went back to my flattened state. Yes, much better. Why had I been so concerned about my appearance? Why had I worried about what others might think? When did our society become so obsessed with bosoms? Why do women feel the need to present their femininity by showing their chests? The more I thought about those questions, the more I realized I was happy not to have to worry about my breasts any more.

Breasts were made to be functional...to feed babies. God gave women breasts to meet the needs of her children but our society has become breast obsessed. Commercials focus on women's chests as they zoom in while advertising their newest product. It's all about sex appeal and a woman's breasts represent their sexiness. Magazines enhance their model's assets by Photoshopping in the correct amount of cleavage. Women's fashions cater to baring cleavage. Young girls long for their breasts to develop and often stuff their bras with tissue to simulate bigger breasts. We are a nation of obsessed breast people! There's even a restaurant/bar named after them....HOOTERS.

Just look at the actresses who've made their breasts their best asset. And if they weren't naturally endowed, they went to the plastic surgeon, put in their order and came out with a picture perfect perky pair. Some of those actresses went way overboard with their "foob" selections. Pamela Sue Anderson went for the jumbo size breast implants and then later decided to have them reduced to a more comfortable, convenient size. Breast implants, whether silicone or saline need to be replaced about every 10 years according to plastic surgeons. The implants can leak or harden causing unwanted physical appearance.

What was I thinking?! I don't need these poly filled fake boobs to make me feel like a woman today. I'll go to the doctor without anything filling my shirt but my big heart. If people I meet feel uncomfortable because I don't have mini mountains in front of my chest, so be it. If they stare at me, oh well. If I have the opportunity to tell them my story; I'll seize the moment and make sure they know how devastating having Breast Cancer really is to a woman.

No matter how large or small a woman's breast are, they shouldn't be the representation of their femininity. A woman's beauty comes from her heart. In the Bible, Proverbs 31 describes the perfect picture of a godly woman. She is filled with compassion and love. She works hard to provide for her family. She is reverent and fears God. She isn't focused on her outward appearance so why are we? Big boobs don't make me a better person. They don't make me more feminine. Who wants someone ogling their chest anyway? I'll take being flat chested any day. Move over Twiggy, perhaps we'll set a new trend!

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

"Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." Proverbs 31:30

Tell All Tuesday...

It's been almost 2 weeks since I had my double mastectomies performed and some of my lymph nodes removed. It's been a rough road, I'll admit. The first few days after surgery were really difficult. I was in a lot of pain and if it weren't for the pain pills, I don't know if I would have been able to get through it. I felt like I had a tight band wound around my chest and the drainage tubes were pulling and tugging constantly. Any movement with my arms was challenging. I've been walking around the house looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame! You don't realize how much you count on your chest muscles until you can't use them. I've had to learn to rely on my leg muscles a lot! Sometimes, I feel like a Tyrannosaurus Rex...you know, the dinosaur with little tiny arms and big muscular legs? But I have made a little progress.

This week, I've worked hard to move my arms as much as possible. Since the muscles, tissues, and nerves were cut, it's really hard to do. At least now, I can raise my arms up just enough to wash my hair. I am unable to raise my hands above my head though and I can't lift anything over a pound or two. Trying to pick anything up off of the floor is next to impossible. I'm thankful I have one of those grabber tools because it's really come in handy! I can use it to take one or two pieces of clothing out of the washer and put them into the dryer until the entire load is ready to dry. Then, I use it again to remove the clothing, a few pieces at a time, from the dryer. Determination is the key!

I do my best to cook nutritious meals but they have definitely been lacking. I'm having to sacrifice quality for convenience. Phil is used to me calling him to come help me reach something from a high shelf or remove something from the oven. It would be so nice to have friends or family nearby who could bring a meal or two now and then, but we'll make do!

The housework I do is minimal. The doctor told me I can't do any pushing or pulling, so that means no vacuuming. Sweeping, dusting, and cleaning bathrooms is about all I can manage; but even with those, I have to sit down and rest in the middle of doing anything.This is very unlike me and has taken me a while to accept. My doctor reminds me constantly that I've been through major surgery and it's going to take my body time to heal.

I haven't been out of the house other than to walk down to the mailbox yesterday. That walk just about did me in! If you've seen my driveway, you'd understand why. I try to walk inside the house every day. They don't tell you that after you've had major surgery, your insides decide to slow down and need help remembering what to do. Without going into detail, let me just emphasize the importance of adding fiber to your diet after this type of surgery.

I love to be on the computer, but it's been a challenge in and of itself. My arms go numb as I type so I've had to use a program called Dragon Dramatically Speaking to assist me in keeping my blog up to date and in daily correspondence. I'm thankful programs like this exist for the physically challenged.

Physical hygiene has been another challenge. I can barely manage a shower by myself and Phil has to help me dry off and get dressed afterwards. I'm so thankful he's willing to help me! I don't know what people who live alone do in situations like this.

I haven't been able to sleep well since surgery. I'm a side sleeper and there's no way I can sleep on my side now. I'm having to learn to sleep on my back with massive amounts of pillows to prop me up. I have to keep my arms elevated above my heart so I won't get Lymphedema.

Even with all these daily physical challenges, I look for things for which to be thankful! I know my challenges are temporary. There are so many people who can't say that. It's so easy for us to take things for granted until we can't do them.

Small goals get me through the day. This week, one of my goals was not having to take any pain medication all day long. The first few days, I made it until around 6pm at night before having to give in. I'm hoping today, I won't have to take any. I was told that the pain medication is not only to relieve my pain but will also allow my body to heal faster. I'm hoping to be able to hold a book in a few days without my arms hurting and my fingers going numb. By month's end, I'm hoping my arms will be strong enough to hold my camera again. I have missed taking photographs.

On August 7, I will meet with the Oncologist to discuss my treatment plan and then on the 13th, I'll meet with the Radiologist. So many tests, so much ahead of me...but I press on.

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

His eye is on the sparrow, Part 2

If you haven't already read "His eye is on the sparrow," my earlier post for today, please read it first before continuing on with reading this post. It's important to me that you get a very clear picture of what God is doing in my life and how He is providing each step of the way.

(continued from my earlier post today) That little lone egg in the nest had been abandoned because something was wrong with it. Either it hadn't been fertilized or it was damaged in some way. As I looked at that little egg, I thought of myself. I was damaged now. I had Cancer. But there was something different about that little egg and I. His parents had flown away and left him all alone to rot and decompose. Although my body was now scarred from surgeries to remove both of my breasts and my lymph nodes; Cancer was still running rampant in my body. My Heavenly Father had not chosen to leave me alone. My journey was just beginning. He was going to teach me to fly!

Evidence of that fact came today, when I received a telephone call from the Genomic Health project. My breast surgeon had given me advance notice that they would be calling because she had ordered a test to be performed on my recent tissue samples. The test, called an Oncotype DX, is performed on patients with invasive breast cancer to help predict chemotherapy benefits and the likelihood of distant breast cancer recurrence.This test is not covered by all insurance companies. The test costs $4500.00. As the screener for the test asked me many personal questions, she was very softspoken and kind. She allowed me to speak and ask questions. She informed me that our insurance company did not find this test to be a medically necessary test but they would be willing to pay 80% of it. 20% of $4500 is $810. All I could think was oh boy, another bill to add to our ever growing mountain of medical expenses. I must have breathed out a gasp when she told me our insurance company didn't think it was necessary because she immediately said, "now don't worry. If you fall under a certain income, you will not have to pay a penny of this expense." She asked me if our household income fell under $78,000 and I explained to her that it did indeed because my husband was the only one working. She then told me that we met the criteria and we would not owe anything for this test. I immediately started to cry and to thank her. After we hung up, all I could do was say "Thank you, Jesus!"

As I kept praising God for His provision, I was reminded of a verse in Isaiah 41 verse 10. This is one of my favorite verses in the Bible, but today, it was even more so. Listen to what it says,  
^" Fear not [there is nothing to fear], for I am with you; do not look around you in terror and be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen and harden you to difficulties, yes, I will help you; yes, I will hold you up and retain you with My [victorious] right hand of rightness and justice." Amplified version of the Holy Bible

I wasn't at all like that lone little egg in the nest. Yes, sometimes I felt like I was all alone and abandoned but really, I never had been. Although I don't know anything about what lies ahead on this Cancer journey, God does. He's known from before I was even born that He would allow me to travel this road. He's already gone before me and prepared the way. He's already made provisions that I am not even aware of but when it's time, He will reveal them to me. My job is simply to marvel at His mighty power...to rest in His love...to trust Him every step of the way. I feel like I'm on the very cusp of learning something new and exciting, in fact, I think I'm just about ready to fly!

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

His eye is on the sparrow

I've always loved birds. They are so fascinating to watch and I love hearing their sweet morning songs. Before I had my surgery, we'd had a little cookout on our patio in back of our house. We'd left our camp chairs folded up out there instead of bringing them into the garage planning to put them away later. A few days passed and I remembered the camp chairs were still outside. It was going to rain and I wanted to bring them in so they didn't get wet. I opened the back door and as I went to pick up my chair, I noticed there was pinestraw sticking out of it. There were no pine trees close to the patio, how did that get there? Before I'd even had time to finish processing my own question, a little house wren flew toward me with a piece of straw in her mouth. Oh, they're building a nest in my chair! I slowly backed through the door and closed it, not wanting to disturb the little bird.

For many days we watched the wren fly to and fro with her beak full of moss, twigs, and straw. Her mate helped supply the bedding too and we enjoyed watching them tag team. I don't know how many trips it took for those little wrens to finally complete the nest, but they did. Whenever I could, I'd slip out the door and take a peek to see how they were progressing. One Saturday morning, as I gently pulled back the cloth arm to the camp chair, I was surprised to see 5 little eggs in the nest! The mother bird was not happy that I was so close to the nest and let me know in no uncertain terms that I was not welcomed.

Mother and Father Wren spent the next week sharing the responsibility of keeping the eggs warm. Now I'm not sure if the father bird actually sat on the nest or if he just brought worms to his mate for dinner, but they were both so attentive and protective. If we even opened the door to the patio, the birds would begin incessantly chirping at us, warning us to get away!

A weekend or two passed and we had family over for a visit. I wanted to show them the nest we'd found in the chair and took my son outside to see it. The mother bird was on the eggs but flew off immediately as we approached. My son, Dave, marveled at the little eggs and stood looking at them for the longest time. I've always encouraged my children to love and appreciate nature since they were very small and marvel at the miracle of life.

When I was in the hospital, I thought about those little birds. I wondered if the eggs had hatched out yet and if they were still in the nest. I had hoped I'd get to see the mother bird teach them to fly. When I got home, I was too weak to walk out there and look at the nest. Days have passed since I even though about it at all because I was preoccupied with my painful recovery.

Today, I was feeling much better and decided to take a peek out at the nest. I was hoping to see little birdie heads peeking out from the nest with wide opened beaks ready for breakfast. When I got to the chair and pulled back the fabric, I was disappointed to find the nest empty except for one lone egg. Oh, that poor little one! I wondered why it didn't hatch. The mother and the father wrens had abandoned it to rot.

As I thought about the lone egg, I was reminded of the song "His Eye is on the Sparrow." The lyrics to the song have always touched my heart. Here are some of them:

Why should I feel discouraged
Why should the shadows come
Why should my heart feel lonely
And long for heaven and home

When Jesus is my portion
A constant friend is he
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know he watches over me
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know he watches me

I sing because I'm happy
I sing because I'm free
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know he watches me

That lone little egg would never hatch. The mother and father instinctively knew to leave it alone. I am so thankful that even when I feel alone and lonely, I know that God never leaves me.

There are days since my surgery that I've felt very alone. My husband works all day and I have no family or friends that live close by. It's hard to be couped up in the house all day long without seeing anyone. But when I start to feel down or depressed, I pull out my Bible and talk to God. He is a constant companion to me and I know He hears my heart.

If God cares enough about tiny little birds to instill in them the knowledge they need to build nests, care for young, find food, and escape danger, then I know He cares even more for me. He knows everything I need and supplies it before I even ask.

Last night, I was worrying about how I'm going to get back and forth to treatments when I start them. I know that my physical strength will wane and I won't be able to drive myself. Before I'd even voiced that concern to anyone, I received a Facebook message from one of my high school friends, a friend I haven't seen in almost 40 years. She said in her message that she knew I was going to need help in the days ahead and she wondered if she might be able to assist me in any way. If you don't think we have an amazing, caring God, then you don't know my Savior. His love never ceases to amaze me. I know His eye is on the sparrow (or wren in this case) and I know He's watching me.

© bonnie annis all rights reserved