So what if I'm flat?

The doctor keeps telling me I have to wear my fake boobs, but "I don't want to," I say this like a stubborn little girl with her arms crossed. I stamp my foot and say, "NO. You can't make me!" But only in my mind, I never let the words slip out of my mouth. What's wrong with being flat? I never had much to begin with and now I have even less than before.

Well, I tried it and I didn't like it. After a few months of living sans breasts and forcing myself to wear the fake boobs, I felt like a phony. I felt like I was misrepresenting myself. I couldn't help that I had breast cancer. I couldn't help that my breasts had to go. Putting on these falsies felt like a huge lie and they made me feel horrible about myself. Yes, they made my shirts fit a little better but other than that, I was just pretending. 

Wearing the prostheses reminded me of a time way back when I was in grammar school. All my little friends were starting to get their "boobies." I wanted some so badly but I was flat as a pancake. There were a few of us who just weren't developing yet and we all decided to take matters into our own hands. So one day, in the school restroom, we got our little training bras and stuffed them with Kleenex until we had little mounds of fake breasts. We thought we were hot stuff! We got ourselves all adjusted and strutted right out of that bathroom with our little chests sticking out in front of us. We were so proud of ourselves...that is, until some of the tissue slipped and we were lopsided, which called for a quick readjustment. But then, to make matters worse, one of my girlfriends had the worst luck. Her tissue fell completely out of her bra onto the floor. Imagine the absolute look of horror on her face when her boob drifted slowly out from under her shirt and floated casually to the floor leaving her flat on one side and poofy on the other! As I think back about it now, I laugh but we were desperate back then! Why did we feel this way? Even at such a tender young age, we were already brainwashed into thinking to be a woman, you had to have breasts.

Some women choose to have reconstruction after their mastectomies and some don't. There's nothing wrong with women who choose to have reconstruction, it just simply wasn't for me. I had no desire whatsoever to put myself through any more surgery or any more pain. But some women can't fathom the thoughts of living without their breasts, even if they're abnormal looking...like those formed from extra stomach fat, back fat, fanny fat, or jiggly underarm or thigh fat. Reconstructive surgeons can make fake boobs out of pretty much any fatty tissue on a woman's body but it's a complicated procedure and doesn't always work. Reconnecting all of those delicate blood vessels isn't easy and sometimes, the tissue dies. There are many, many breast reconstruction horror stories. Just Google it for yourself and you'll see! But it's the choice of each breast cancer patient and the choice they make is one they have to be happy with for the rest of their lives. Every breast cancer patient has so many options presented to them and there are so many factors that come into play, so how can I be one to judge? The main decision we, as breast cancer survivors have to make, is to live.

I thought about it. I really did. I thought about what the doctor said about having to wear my fake boobs. I thought about what she said about how my body would react if I didn't wear them...how my shoulders would eventually round forward and how my spine would start giving me problems. But when I thought about putting fake boobs where my real breasts used to be, I just couldn't do it. Even she said, "well, you really didn't have big boobs in the first place. So why on Earth did the fitter at the prostheses store give you such big ones?" I told the doc, "I have no idea. I told her I wanted a size A cup but I think she gave me a C or D! The ones I have must weigh 2 or 3 pounds each."

But the more and more I thought about it, I decided why should I let society dictate what I do with my life? Why does it matter if I have no breasts? Am I less than every other woman? Can I still be considered sexy? Am I still a woman? Who sets the standards anyway? Can't I be just me with or without boobs?

I talked it over with my husband and we decided that even without boobs, I was still pretty amazing.  I was still a woman, still a wife, still a mother, still a grandmother in spite of  every thing breast cancer wanted to steal from me. So I will continue to be "flat as a flitter." I feel more comfortable that way, especially at home. Maybe, on rare occasions when I feel like it, I'll slip into my mastectomy bra and take the girls out for a spin, but more than likely I'll leave them in their cute little pink zippered boxes and let them sulk their little silicone hearts out. 

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

It’s not that I deny anyone the right to handle their cancer their way.  I hate to see anyone–ANYONE–having to be put in the position of being a warrior against cancer–least of all me.  
And as a fighter, I reserve the right to handle my diagnosis the way I choose–as all of these women and men have done.  Bravo to them and bravo to Ford for spotlighting them, supporting them, clothing them in the gear–all of it.  It’s amazing to watch a business, no matter the na-sayers who claim it’s about publicity, or tax right offs, or blah blah blah–
listen, when you’ve got the disease, then come to me with your complaints.  But I bet you won’t complain–you’ll just be grateful, like I am, that somebody gives a damn about you and your horrific, mind-blowing, life-changing and maybe life-ending experience.
So here’s what bums me out:  not a one of them is without breasts and showing themselves as such.  You know what that says to me?  It says that breasts are way too important.
I have nothing–NOTHING–against reconstruction, or prosthetics. I’m just saying that presenting yourself as with breasts, even when you’re not, is not the only answer.
When I thought about putting fake breasts back into the place where my real breasts–one of which had cancer and one that didn’t–were, I was put into the awful position of “what if I have no breasts? What am I then? Am I still sexy? Am I still a woman?” And after 4 terrible, stomach churning, put-this-marriage-to-the-test days, my hero-of-a husband and I decided I would still be amazing without boobs. I would still be female, still beautiful and (gasp) sexy, despite what breast cancer wanted to steal from me. And I am proud of that decision–though not altogether understood by the world around me for making it.
After a few months of living without breasts, and trying prosthetics, I felt like a phony. I felt like I was misrepresenting me. I had breast cancer, my breasts had to go–and putting on fake boobs was like a bad costume party in my mind; and it made me feel bad. So I dumped them. For 8 years I’ve lived as is–no breasts, no bumps, but plenty of life.
In a video like this, what would have amazing impact to me is seeing a woman–or more than one woman—who chose to not have reconstruction and doesn’t wear fake breasts. I am not saying me. I am just saying someone. Someone who says, “hey society, guess what? I love myself, as does my husband, and I have NO BOOBS. How bout that,society?”
I am not saying all people should make my decision; I am saying that many of us out here do. We make a hard, horrible decision that less is more, as the saying goes–especially in the face of chemotherapy, radiation, mastectomy surgery, recovery, and all the pills you have to take for the next 5 years to keep breast cancer at bay. It’s not always about reconstruction or fake breasts after breast cancer.  It’s about living.
So next year I hope somebody chooses to submit themselves into the casting call for this fantastic, formidable, film-worthy video support in the fight against breast cancer who has no breasts and doesn’t use prosthetics. There are many of us out there, fighting after their first battle, after their second round–or in my case, after it’s jumped the fence and gone into other organs (metastatic)–and we are ALL FIGHTERS. We are proud, we are pumping iron, we are praying to live through this devastating illness…
..even those of us with a few less body parts to fight with.
- See more at: http://www.projectpinkdiary.com/2012/05/anns-diary-breast-and-breastless-cancer-heroes/#sthash.FEgOaFnU.dpuf

It’s not that I deny anyone the right to handle their cancer their way.  I hate to see anyone–ANYONE–having to be put in the position of being a warrior against cancer–least of all me.  
And as a fighter, I reserve the right to handle my diagnosis the way I choose–as all of these women and men have done.  Bravo to them and bravo to Ford for spotlighting them, supporting them, clothing them in the gear–all of it.  It’s amazing to watch a business, no matter the na-sayers who claim it’s about publicity, or tax right offs, or blah blah blah–
listen, when you’ve got the disease, then come to me with your complaints.  But I bet you won’t complain–you’ll just be grateful, like I am, that somebody gives a damn about you and your horrific, mind-blowing, life-changing and maybe life-ending experience.
So here’s what bums me out:  not a one of them is without breasts and showing themselves as such.  You know what that says to me?  It says that breasts are way too important.
I have nothing–NOTHING–against reconstruction, or prosthetics. I’m just saying that presenting yourself as with breasts, even when you’re not, is not the only answer.
When I thought about putting fake breasts back into the place where my real breasts–one of which had cancer and one that didn’t–were, I was put into the awful position of “what if I have no breasts? What am I then? Am I still sexy? Am I still a woman?” And after 4 terrible, stomach churning, put-this-marriage-to-the-test days, my hero-of-a husband and I decided I would still be amazing without boobs. I would still be female, still beautiful and (gasp) sexy, despite what breast cancer wanted to steal from me. And I am proud of that decision–though not altogether understood by the world around me for making it.
After a few months of living without breasts, and trying prosthetics, I felt like a phony. I felt like I was misrepresenting me. I had breast cancer, my breasts had to go–and putting on fake boobs was like a bad costume party in my mind; and it made me feel bad. So I dumped them. For 8 years I’ve lived as is–no breasts, no bumps, but plenty of life.
In a video like this, what would have amazing impact to me is seeing a woman–or more than one woman—who chose to not have reconstruction and doesn’t wear fake breasts. I am not saying me. I am just saying someone. Someone who says, “hey society, guess what? I love myself, as does my husband, and I have NO BOOBS. How bout that,society?”
I am not saying all people should make my decision; I am saying that many of us out here do. We make a hard, horrible decision that less is more, as the saying goes–especially in the face of chemotherapy, radiation, mastectomy surgery, recovery, and all the pills you have to take for the next 5 years to keep breast cancer at bay. It’s not always about reconstruction or fake breasts after breast cancer.  It’s about living.
So next year I hope somebody chooses to submit themselves into the casting call for this fantastic, formidable, film-worthy video support in the fight against breast cancer who has no breasts and doesn’t use prosthetics. There are many of us out there, fighting after their first battle, after their second round–or in my case, after it’s jumped the fence and gone into other organs (metastatic)–and we are ALL FIGHTERS. We are proud, we are pumping iron, we are praying to live through this devastating illness…
..even those of us with a few less body parts to fight with.
- See more at: http://www.projectpinkdiary.com/2012/05/anns-diary-breast-and-breastless-cancer-heroes/#sthash.FEgOaFnU.dpuf

It’s not that I deny anyone the right to handle their cancer their way.  I hate to see anyone–ANYONE–having to be put in the position of being a warrior against cancer–least of all me.  
And as a fighter, I reserve the right to handle my diagnosis the way I choose–as all of these women and men have done.  Bravo to them and bravo to Ford for spotlighting them, supporting them, clothing them in the gear–all of it.  It’s amazing to watch a business, no matter the na-sayers who claim it’s about publicity, or tax right offs, or blah blah blah–
listen, when you’ve got the disease, then come to me with your complaints.  But I bet you won’t complain–you’ll just be grateful, like I am, that somebody gives a damn about you and your horrific, mind-blowing, life-changing and maybe life-ending experience.
So here’s what bums me out:  not a one of them is without breasts and showing themselves as such.  You know what that says to me?  It says that breasts are way too important.
I have nothing–NOTHING–against reconstruction, or prosthetics. I’m just saying that presenting yourself as with breasts, even when you’re not, is not the only answer.
When I thought about putting fake breasts back into the place where my real breasts–one of which had cancer and one that didn’t–were, I was put into the awful position of “what if I have no breasts? What am I then? Am I still sexy? Am I still a woman?” And after 4 terrible, stomach churning, put-this-marriage-to-the-test days, my hero-of-a husband and I decided I would still be amazing without boobs. I would still be female, still beautiful and (gasp) sexy, despite what breast cancer wanted to steal from me. And I am proud of that decision–though not altogether understood by the world around me for making it.
After a few months of living without breasts, and trying prosthetics, I felt like a phony. I felt like I was misrepresenting me. I had breast cancer, my breasts had to go–and putting on fake boobs was like a bad costume party in my mind; and it made me feel bad. So I dumped them. For 8 years I’ve lived as is–no breasts, no bumps, but plenty of life.
In a video like this, what would have amazing impact to me is seeing a woman–or more than one woman—who chose to not have reconstruction and doesn’t wear fake breasts. I am not saying me. I am just saying someone. Someone who says, “hey society, guess what? I love myself, as does my husband, and I have NO BOOBS. How bout that,society?”
I am not saying all people should make my decision; I am saying that many of us out here do. We make a hard, horrible decision that less is more, as the saying goes–especially in the face of chemotherapy, radiation, mastectomy surgery, recovery, and all the pills you have to take for the next 5 years to keep breast cancer at bay. It’s not always about reconstruction or fake breasts after breast cancer.  It’s about living.
So next year I hope somebody chooses to submit themselves into the casting call for this fantastic, formidable, film-worthy video support in the fight against breast cancer who has no breasts and doesn’t use prosthetics. There are many of us out there, fighting after their first battle, after their second round–or in my case, after it’s jumped the fence and gone into other organs (metastatic)–and we are ALL FIGHTERS. We are proud, we are pumping iron, we are praying to live through this devastating illness…
..even those of us with a few less body parts to fight with.
- See more at: http://www.projectpinkdiary.com/2012/05/anns-diary-breast-and-breastless-cancer-heroes/#sthash.FEgOaFnU.dpuf

It’s not that I deny anyone the right to handle their cancer their way.  I hate to see anyone–ANYONE–having to be put in the position of being a warrior against cancer–least of all me.  
And as a fighter, I reserve the right to handle my diagnosis the way I choose–as all of these women and men have done.  Bravo to them and bravo to Ford for spotlighting them, supporting them, clothing them in the gear–all of it.  It’s amazing to watch a business, no matter the na-sayers who claim it’s about publicity, or tax right offs, or blah blah blah–
listen, when you’ve got the disease, then come to me with your complaints.  But I bet you won’t complain–you’ll just be grateful, like I am, that somebody gives a damn about you and your horrific, mind-blowing, life-changing and maybe life-ending experience.
So here’s what bums me out:  not a one of them is without breasts and showing themselves as such.  You know what that says to me?  It says that breasts are way too important.
I have nothing–NOTHING–against reconstruction, or prosthetics. I’m just saying that presenting yourself as with breasts, even when you’re not, is not the only answer.
When I thought about putting fake breasts back into the place where my real breasts–one of which had cancer and one that didn’t–were, I was put into the awful position of “what if I have no breasts? What am I then? Am I still sexy? Am I still a woman?” And after 4 terrible, stomach churning, put-this-marriage-to-the-test days, my hero-of-a husband and I decided I would still be amazing without boobs. I would still be female, still beautiful and (gasp) sexy, despite what breast cancer wanted to steal from me. And I am proud of that decision–though not altogether understood by the world around me for making it.
After a few months of living without breasts, and trying prosthetics, I felt like a phony. I felt like I was misrepresenting me. I had breast cancer, my breasts had to go–and putting on fake boobs was like a bad costume party in my mind; and it made me feel bad. So I dumped them. For 8 years I’ve lived as is–no breasts, no bumps, but plenty of life.
In a video like this, what would have amazing impact to me is seeing a woman–or more than one woman—who chose to not have reconstruction and doesn’t wear fake breasts. I am not saying me. I am just saying someone. Someone who says, “hey society, guess what? I love myself, as does my husband, and I have NO BOOBS. How bout that,society?”
I am not saying all people should make my decision; I am saying that many of us out here do. We make a hard, horrible decision that less is more, as the saying goes–especially in the face of chemotherapy, radiation, mastectomy surgery, recovery, and all the pills you have to take for the next 5 years to keep breast cancer at bay. It’s not always about reconstruction or fake breasts after breast cancer.  It’s about living.
So next year I hope somebody chooses to submit themselves into the casting call for this fantastic, formidable, film-worthy video support in the fight against breast cancer who has no breasts and doesn’t use prosthetics. There are many of us out there, fighting after their first battle, after their second round–or in my case, after it’s jumped the fence and gone into other organs (metastatic)–and we are ALL FIGHTERS. We are proud, we are pumping iron, we are praying to live through this devastating illness…
..even those of us with a few less body parts to fight with.
- See more at: http://www.projectpinkdiary.com/2012/05/anns-diary-breast-and-breastless-cancer-heroes/#sthash.FEgOaFnU.dpuf

Eucharisteo

This is the word that can change everything: eucharisteo—it comes right out of the Gospel of Luke: “And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them … ” (Luke 22:19 NIV). In the original language, “he gave thanks” reads “eucharisteo.” The root word of eucharisteo is charis, meaning “grace.” Jesus took the bread and saw it as grace and gave thanks. He took the bread and knew it to be gift and gave thanks. Eucharisteo, thanksgiving, envelopes the Greek word for grace, charis. But it also holds its derivative, the Greek word chara, meaning “joy.” Charis. Grace. Eucharisteo. Thanksgiving. Chara. Joy. Deep chara joy is found only at the table of the euCHARisteo; the table of thanksgiving. As we've begun this new year, I've decided to become intentional about learning how to live a life of eucharisteo...always giving thanks with a grateful heart. It isn't easy to choose to live life this way, when everything around you seems to scream out in negativity. Our world today is filled with unkindness and evil, but if you look hard enough...you can find a reason to give thanks.

Ann Voskamp, wrote a wonderful book in which she learned how to live a life of eucharisteo. As a child, she witnessed her sister being crushed under a truck. Immediately after that event, her mother checked herself into a psychiatric hospital and her father couldn’t find God.  She has experienced much pain in her life but even in the pain, she battles to believe that in God is joy, and that there are as many gifts amid the grittiness of life as in the moments of celebration. In her book, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare  to Live Fully Right Where You Are, Ann helps provide answers to tough questions like these:

• Where is joy in the midst of cruelty and chaos, duties and despair?
• How does one slow down enough for the soul and God to live in synch?
• How in the world do we learn to find God and live fully?

Every day of our lives, we must make choices on how we're going to get through difficult situations and circumstances. We can choose to be enveloped in the struggle or look for joy in the midst of it. Living a life of eucharisteo, is learning to live a life purposely looking for reasons to give thanks.

One of the best ways to begin living a life of eucharisteo, is to begin keeping a gratitude journal. It doesn't have to be anything fancy...a simple memo pad or notebook will do. If you've never kept a gratitude journal before, start off small. Look for just 3 things a day in which you can give thanks. By purposely jotting down a few items a day, you'll shift your focus from the negativity in the world around you to the positivity of what God is and always has been doing in your life. The journal will be your personal journey into seeing God's goodness. As you continue looking for those "gifts" each day, the ones in which you can give heartfelt thanks to God, I believe you'll find that you can begin to list more and more "gifts" each day. He gives us wonderful gifts of grace every single day. I think when we begin to intentionally list them and focus on them, our minds discover how very much He loves us and wants to bless us.

Let me give you an example of my three gifts of gratitude this morning:

•  As I looked in the mirror this morning, after my shower, I noticed the large, ugly scars across my chest. Cancer tried to kill me, but God in His magnificent grace said, "No! I'm not through with you yet! You will live." I am so thankful for the gift of life. 
• Three beautiful deer traipsed across my lawn this morning. I was thankful for the gift of eyesight for without it, I would never have seen them. 
• The dishwasher is full of dishes, which means we have had money to buy food, and we have had food to eat,  and we have been content. Thank you God for your provision!

Do you see how easy it is? When you start looking for things in which to be thankful, the blessings will be there. When you start writing them down, you'll see that you have become intentional in looking for ways to give thanks. If you need a little boost to get started, read Ann's book or you may even want to take her Joy Dare. My first time taking the Joy Dare was last year and I'm so glad I did!

The world is full of things that will pull you down and make you feel sad, lonely, and depressed. Instead of looking around at your circumstances, choose to look up to Christ instead. He loves you so much and He longs to bless you. Simple little blessings surround each of us daily. Look for them and you'll find them. I promise. 

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

In the wee small hours of the morning

In the wee small hours of the morning, while the whole wide world is fast asleep...
“In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning," a popular song from the 50's composed by David Mann, was introduced as the title track of Frank Sinatra’s 1955 album, "In the Wee Small Hours." I love this beautiful, sentimental song. In the wee small hours of THIS morning, I was fast asleep. I don't ever sleep well, so it's a miracle when I do fall into a very deep, peaceful sleep. Imagine my surprise, when I was startled awake. There was nothing to wake me that I know of, no loud noises, nothing to disturb my peaceful state...my husband wasn't even snoring...but I was instantly wide awake.

As I lay looking around the room in the darkness, my mind began to fill with thoughts. They came rushing in like an angry stampede. Headlines from yesterday's news came to mind...the senseless massacre in France, during a business meeting held at Charlie Hebdo's offices, where 12 innocent, unsuspecting people lost their lives, they had no idea, that within minutes, they would be spending their last seconds on earth...the shock, the terror, the chaos. I thought of their poor families and how in just an instant their lives would never be the same again. I wondered if the gunmen, after leaving their wake of destruction, were off celebrating somewhere with their black shrouded comrades while chanting, "Allahu Akbar." Senseless. So Senseless...and then the verse, "and because iniquity shall abound, the love of many will wax cold" from Matthew Chapter 24 verse 12 came to mind. My brain was spinning. Thoughts came rushing in from all sides. It was as if a dam had been opened and the flood waters were headed straight for me...washing over me, enveloping, almost to the point of drowning me. 

I got out of bed and flipped on the light. I was wide awake so I might as well get up. (I'd read somewhere that if you were unable to sleep it was better to go ahead and get out of bed...so I did.) Throwing back the down comforter, I left the cozy warmth of my bed and padded across the carpeted floor to get dressed. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was only a little after 5:00 a.m. now. I'd been awake since just before 4:00 a.m. That meant I'd only had five hours of sleep, yet I was wide awake...fully coherent and functioning.

Now I sit at my computer. The quiet glides easily through the house. I hear the rush of traffic outside my window as commuters begin to make their way to their offices. I wonder if any of them have given a second thought to the employees who lost their lives yesterday. I wonder how many of them are listening to the radio...how many are hearing the world news right now, probably not many. I imagine most commuters flip on their CD players or satellite radio to hear their favorite tunes before arriving at their workplace...to drown out the thoughts in their heads...to just relax and mellow. It's probably too early for them to take on the heaviness of the world's problems just yet, and still time ticks on. 

Time. Precious seconds, minutes and hours. It slips away so silently. I wish I could bottle it and save it but instead I have to teach myself to learn to savor it, like a fine wine...swirling it around and watching it's color, sniffing the sweet nectar of it and then slowly, deliberately tasting it...allowing it to wet my mouth with its flavor. 

I glance at the clock on my computer. It's almost 7:00 a.m. now. Where are those three hours, the ones I'd lost between waking and now? Do you see how fast they've disappeared? But Chaucer once said, "time and tide wait for no man." And how very true that statement is, was, and forever will be. Time keeps on ticking, ticking, ticking... into the future...

After writing my blog post, my mind felt a little lighter. Maybe I needed to dump out all the thoughts I was thinking and that's why I woke up so early. But then again, I was reminded of another verse of Scripture... 

^"When my anxious thoughts multiply within me, Your consolations delight my soul." Psalm 94:19 Hmmm...now that's something to think about!

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

And here's a quotation that I love by one of my favorite authors, Pastor Andrew Murray: 

"Humility is perpetual quietness of heart. It is to have no trouble. It is never to be fretted or vexed, or irritable, To wonder at nothing that is done to me, to feel nothing that is done against me. It is to be at rest when nobody praises me, and when I am blamed or despised, it is to have a blessed home in myself where I can go in and shut the door and kneel to my Creator and Sustainer in secret and be at peace, as in a deep sea of calmness, when all around and about is seeming trouble."

Andrew Murray

 

---

A Society of Boobless Women

Every single day I hear of another woman who's been diagnosed with breast cancer. It breaks my heart. It's in the newspapers, on the internet, on TV talk shows, etc. etc. Why does it seem that it's becoming an epidemic? Perhaps I am just more aware of it now that I've become part of the army of pink. Have you felt it too?

For every woman in the public eye that is diagnosed and makes her story known, there are hundreds even thousands of other women who find out they have breast cancer but never share their news openly with anyone other than friends or family. The public figures, like Patricia Nixon (from Sex and the City), Kathy Bates, Hota Kotb, Lynn Redgrave, Nancy Reagan, just to name a few, help viewers understand the tragedy of breast cancer and that's a good thing; but what about all those "unknown" women who gain no notoriety other than being someone's wife, mother, or friend? The more and more I see and hear of newly diagnosed women, the more I can't help but wonder if one day we're going to have a totally boobless society of women.

What is causing these massive amounts of breast cancer? It has to be something that all of us have in common...something we do every day, something we use every day, something we smell or taste or touch. Once there were concerns with deodorant - that the Aluminum contained in those products could increase the risk of breast cancer. The aluminum works by closing or blocking pores but where does the aluminum go once rolled or sprayed or rubbed on? There's also been concern over the use of hair dyes in women, sugar, food preservatives, genetics, smoking, and the list goes on and on.

To date, no one has found the real cause of breast cancer and therefore, women remain at risk. But, women aren't the only ones who can get breast cancer, surprisingly men can too! I was in the waiting room at my breast surgeon's office for a post surgical appointment several months ago when I noticed a rather large man come into the office. He was with his wife, a tiny slip of a thing, and I assumed she was the patient (you know what they say about assuming don't you...) until I noticed the JP drain tube sticking out of his shirt sleeve. (A JP drain, for those of you who haven't experienced breast surgery, is a type of drain bulb that allows fluid and blood to collect from the surgical wound site. The fluids travel down a clear plastic tubing and are deposited in a clear, grenade looking bulb.) I was so surprised to see the tube and the expression on my face reflected what the other women in the waiting room were hiding in their thoughts. A few minutes later, I heard the man explaining to someone in the waiting room that he'd just had a mastectomy. I had no idea that men got mastectomies too! With women, it's become pretty commonplace but men? Wow! I imagine that was a hard thing for his wife to grasp. I also imagine it was even harder for this big, burly man to have to call in to work and tell them that he had breast cancer and was going to have to have some time off for surgery. I'm sure he was the brunt of many tasteless jokes in the break room while he was gone.

I am very concerned. I am concerned not only about our society of beautiful women, but I'm concerned about my daughters and my granddaughters. I don't want any of them to ever experience the trauma of having to have a mastectomy done. So what are we to do, to keep our sweet girls from becoming statistics in a society of boobless women? The only thing I can recommend is for all of us to become proactive. We need to protect our boobs and the best way to protect them is to check them on a monthly basis.

It's so important for women of all ages to know the proper way to perform a breast self exam. I just recently sent out breast self exam door hangers to my daughters and closest friends. It was a laminated instruction card that provided very detailed and clear instructions on how to properly examine your breasts. It also had little monthly punch out circles along the bottom of the card so you could keep a record of which months you'd completed. I hope, when they received it, they understood my concern. Breast surgery is extremely painful and difficult. I don't ever want any of my family or friends to go through it.

So let's do everything we can to stop the madness! We don't want our girls to grow up in a society of boobless women. God made women with breasts to nourish and feed their children, along with many other reasons. We need to protect ourselves by becoming knowledgeable. I keep on praying that one day soon, one of the amazing scientists out there will discover the real cause behind these massive cases of breast cancer, but until they do, we need to start a campaign to SAVE THE TATAS.

Can you imagine how a society of boobless women would effect our world? While breast cancer is prevalent in many countries, it seems America has more than it's fair share of patients. There has to be a better way to deal with breast cancer - a better way than just loping them off. Sure, many women are able to get lumpectomies instead of having radical surgery but many of those women end up having more surgeries later down the road and often end up with a mastectomy anyway.

Please be informed. Please read articles on breast cancer research. Please do monthly self exams and if you do find something, PLEASE see a doctor immediately. You are your own best health advocate. You have to fight to make sure you get the care you deserve. If you find a lump and the doctor says, oh, let's watch it...it's nothing to worry about...don't settle for that! Demand more testing be done. Demand a biopsy even if the mammogram looks okay. If you feel in your gut that something is not quite right, it probably isn't. Stand up for yourself!

I'll step down off my soapbox now but hopefully you see my point. If we don't wake up and do something, we ARE going to have a society of BOOBLESS women. No one wants that, do they?

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

 How to do a breast self exam

Do antiperspirants cause breast cancer in women?


Here are some startling statistics for you from the BreastCancer.org website:
***these were recorded in September 2014***

• About 1 in 8 U.S. women (about 12%) will develop invasive breast cancer over the course of her lifetime.
• In 2014, an estimated 232,670 new cases of invasive breast cancer were expected to be diagnosed in women in the U.S., along with 62,570 new cases of non-invasive (in situ) breast cancer.
• About 2,360 new cases of invasive breast cancer were expected to be diagnosed in men in 2014. A man’s lifetime risk of breast cancer is about 1 in 1,000.
• About 40,000 women in the U.S. were expected to die in 2014 from breast cancer, though death rates have been decreasing since 1989 — with larger decreases in women under 50. These decreases are thought to be the result of treatment advances, earlier detection through screening, and increased awareness.
• For women in the U.S., breast cancer death rates are higher than those for any other cancer, besides lung cancer.
• Besides skin cancer, breast cancer is the most commonly diagnosed cancer among American women. Just under 30% of cancers in women are breast cancers.
• White women are slightly more likely to develop breast cancer than African-American women. However, in women under 45, breast cancer is more common in African-American women than white women. Overall, African-American women are more likely to die of breast cancer. Asian, Hispanic, and Native-American women have a lower risk of developing and dying from breast cancer.
• In 2014, there were more than 2.8 million women with a history of breast cancer in the U.S. This includes women currently being treated and women who have finished treatment.
• A woman’s risk of breast cancer approximately doubles if she has a first-degree relative (mother, sister, daughter) who has been diagnosed with breast cancer. About 15% of women who get breast cancer have a family member diagnosed with it.
• About 5-10% of breast cancers can be linked to gene mutations (abnormal changes) inherited from one’s mother or father. Mutations of the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes are the most common. Women with a BRCA1 mutation have a 55-65% risk of developing breast cancer before age 70, and often at a younger age that it typically develops. For women with a BRCA2 mutation, this risk is 45%. An increased ovarian cancer risk is also associated with these genetic mutations. In men, BRCA2 mutations are associated with a lifetime breast cancer risk of about 6%; BRCA1 mutations are a less frequent cause of breast cancer in men.
• About 85% of breast cancers occur in women who have no family history of breast cancer. These occur due to genetic mutations that happen as a result of the aging process and life in general, rather than inherited mutations.
• The most significant risk factors for breast cancer are gender (being a woman) and age (growing older).

 

Space Cadet-ish

Space cadet:

n. A person who tends to "space out" often. He or she does not respond when directly spoken to. The space cadet is not necessarily a person of low intelligence or a heavy drug user, but rather one who is so easily lost in reverie that he or she loses all awareness of the surrounding physical world.

Yep...that's me. I haven't been able to focus on anything over the past few weeks, and while that's not too unusual, since I have probably been this way to one degree or another since I was a child, I've noticed it more of a problem recently. I have no explanation. I could try to blame in on the new medication, Tamoxifen, or I could try to blame it on post surgical depression and truth be told, it's probably a combination of both...but, I just have no desire to do anything.

To give you an example of how spacey I've been feeling, I actually deleted my blog this morning. I thought it was time to take it down. I figured no one was reading it but a few family members and maybe one or two friends, so why keep it going? Why would anyone want to read it anyway? It's full of ramblings and occasionally a philosophical post or two. I've tried to infuse my strong faith in God in most of my posts, but often, I've fallen short and have just written exactly what I was thinking at the time. No train of thought...nothing cohesive. I pity you for being here reading today if you are, because I have no unearthly idea where this post is going right now. 

The hot flashes and night sweats from the Tamoxifen have been about to drive me insane. I've already been there and done that when I went through menopause about 10 years ago. I certainly don't want to experience those symptoms again! I've even noticed some mood swings and being back on the emotional roller coaster again...oh what a fun ride, NOT! My breast surgeon told me when I was there for my 6 month check up that she would be happy to write a prescription for Effexor for me. She said it practically eliminates the hot flashes and other symptoms related to Tamoxifen. But I looked it up. Thanks Google....thanks for giving me more information I didn't need to know. Effexor is an anti-depressant. Oh. Well, I guess I could need that but why would they prescribe it for the side effects from Tamoxifen? I did more research. Apparently, Effexor has the magical medicinal properties that cancel out those hot flashes etc. because it can overpower your brain and do some weird VOODOO on your Serotonin levels making you feel good...real good. Hmm. 

If I'm a space cadet now, I wonder how I would be while taking Effexor. Would I just be a happy little space cadet? Would I just be happy to have no direction or purpose? I guess the Serotonin levels being bumped up a little couldn't be a bad thing could it? But then, I think about all the medications I am currently taking...there are 3 blood pressure meds, the medication to replace my thyroid hormone, the medication to control my acid reflux/GERD, the medication to chill out my adrenal gland hormones, the Tamoxifen - to supposedly ward off any recurring cancer by binding to and blocking any production of Estrogen in my body, and then there are all the vitamins I have to take...Potassium, Magnesium, Vitamin D, and Calcium, none of which are optional because they support the work that some of the other medications are doing.

I think I'm on a Ferris Wheel. I can see the empty seats in front of me and I know there are empty seats in back of me, even though I don't want to look and see them. The guy is about to throw the switch. I see him with the huge lever in his hands as I look way down from my position at the top. Is that a grin on his face? I think it is! My seat is starting to rock slowly backward and forward even before we begin moving. I'm trying to keep still as much as I can but it's futile. Suddenly, the lights come on along the edge of the Ferris Wheel. They look pretty! They're glowing like twinkly little Christmas lights. The music begins to play, an indescribable, unfamiliar circus tune and then....I want to get off. I know where this is going...nowhere. It's going to go around and around and around. I won't be getting anywhere. I won't be making any progress. I'm feeling a little light headed. 

So should I or shouldn't I? Do I need the new medication to help with my spaciness? I don't know. I'm afraid to take another medication. With all the ones I'm on and with all of their side effects, how can I even function? It's a wonder I can function at all...prescription medications aren't so very different from street drugs other than they are a little more controlled and regulated. They all mess with your mind and I want to keep my mind as clear as possible. I want to be able to think and remember what I was thinking. I want to keep a train of thought. I don't want to feel spacey. 

And here I am on a rainy, dreary, Sunday afternoon wondering what to do. I reinstated my blog, as you can see, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this today. I want to keep it. It's a kind of therapy. It lets me process my thoughts and nobody has to read it unless they really want to read it, but maybe, just maybe, there's someone else out there who feels the way I do at times and perhaps my blog will help them in some small way. I sure hope so. 

William Shakespeare said "Give sorrow words, the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break." I guess I'm still feeling the side effects of the emotional trauma from my surgery. Daily I feel the physical trauma but it's easier to deal with than the emotional aspects of breast cancer. I am still grieving the loss of the life I once had. For some, that may seem silly. They may take the attitude, "just suck it up and get over it. Be thankful you're alive. Be thankful they found the cancer in time. You should be overjoyed." Well, unless you've traveled a mile in my moccasins, don't judge me. I'm doing the best I can. Some days are better than others but today, I'm a little spacey. I'm sure tomorrow will be a better day.

Why do I suddenly feel the need to speak in movie lines right now. I just thought about Scarlett O'Hara and her famous movie line as she lies crying on the beautiful red carpeted staircase. She's lying there bawling and hearing the voice of her father telling her that land is the only thing that lasts, the only thing that matters. She listens intently and starts thinking about returning to Tara, her beloved home, and devising a plan to get Rhett Butler back. As the movie ends, Scarlett raises her tearful face and says..."After all, tomorrow is another day." Her comment implies there is hope...there's always hope. And I know there is. I haven't given up, I'm just on the ferris wheel trying to get there. 

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

I need a little prayer today

Today I'm struggling. I woke up feeling like I'd been run over by a Mack truck. Every move I made took great effort...my muscles were screaming out in pain. Yesterday, my husband and I did a little hiking. I had wanted to get out of the house and just "do" something. So we decided to take a little jaunt. We drove all over the surrounding areas enjoying the sights. I had brought my camera along and was able to get a few good photos of country life, too. We found a beautiful, quaint little town called Serenbe in Palmetto, Georgia. “Serenbe is a utopian experiment in New Urbanism being molded out of Georgia red clay," says a reporter with the New York Times and I'm inclined to agree with him. Any and everything you could want is in that tight knit little community. It has the best of both worlds, all the amenities of city life with beautiful green space and hiking trails, too. 

 

As we wandered through Serenbe, we found cute little shops, restaurants, and beautiful homes. We found some hiking trails that meandered through the woods, too. Since we're both avid hikers, we decided to stop and pick up a few trails. As we sauntered down the pine straw laden floors of the forest, we realized how much we've missed being out in the woods. It's been many months since we've had a good hike. We didn't stay out long because it was the first time out since my surgery and hubs was worried that I might get over tired...and he was right but I didn't realize it until today.

 

On top of my muscle pain, I'm also dealing with discomfort from scar tissue and a seroma. I wrote about this in one of my earlier posts so I won't go into more detail about it here other than to say we're trying gentle massage to see if the scar tissue will loosen up and the fluid will disperse. If it doesn't, I'll have to have it drained with a syringe. I don't relish having to have that done. 

It's not something I usually do in my blog but today, I'd like to ask for a little prayer. It's been tough getting adjusted to the Tamoxifen and the side effects that have come with it like severe headaches, nausea, and fatigue. I don't like feeling "sick." I'm used to feeling pretty good and when I feel like this, I am reminded that my health isn't so great right now. 

 

This has been a tough season for me and I've been struggling over how I can pursue healing without making health an idol. In other words, when navigating a broken world and you find yourself in a dark, hurtful place of pain, how do you respond in such a way that you do not get distracted by wanting deliverance more than you want the Deliverer?

 

Last month, a friend posted an answered prayer to a health crisis on her Facebook wall. The first comment read, “God is good!” Yes, God IS good. But when I see that kind of response to good news, I always think, yes, but what if the health crisis had ended in tragedy? I wonder if that person would have commented along these lines, “Horrible news. God is bad.” I'm sure they wouldn't have, but you can't help but think it. Sometimes, when we say, "God is good" isn't our meaning more along the lines of  “Yippee! We got what we wanted—isn’t that awesome?! God is good because He answered our prayer the way we asked him to answer it.”

Many people have uttered the phrase, "If God is so good, why does He let bad things happen?"
I’ve experienced enough struggle and sadness in my life to know the answer. I don’t want a God who is limited to my understanding of good. I actually want a God who works in mysterious ways, who uses suffering to produce beauty, who understands that good always trumps evil, who won’t let me be satisfied with a superficial goodness that I use to measure how happy I am in the moment. I want to trust a God who fights for goodness in my life by providing journeys that walk through muck and mire. I don’t want to be satisfied with Him just giving me what I want to get me by. I want to hurt, yearn, and suffer so that I can experience the depth of peace and  hope and eventual redemption. That is Goodness! ...Or so I say.

Yes, I'm hurting physically right now but nothing like the pain an internet friend of mine is experiencing. You've seen my most recent posts about Kara Tippetts, the young mother who is in the last stages of metastatic cancer...the beautiful, brave, woman of faith who is fighting for every last second she can have with her family. She is in excruciating pain. My pain pales in comparison to hers and I am ashamed to even admit I have pain. I have cried out to God on her behalf asking for a miracle. Asking for Him to allow her to live and to restore her to good health and even while I'm asking, I know this isn't His plan. He has used her life of pain and suffering to show others her marvelous faith and His great sovereignty. 

I've dreamed about Kara a lot lately. A few nights ago, I imagined her lying on her bed with her family gathered around. It was dark and she was crying out in pain, unbearable pain. I kept thinking to myself, there must be a way to help her...and then I realized, I was wanting deliverance for her more than the Deliverer. But God never promises us good health. He never promises that we'll accomplish all of our goals or that all of our dreams will come true. He doesn't promise that if we work hard enough, everything will turn out the way we want them too....no, He only promises His grace. Now back to my dream...there is my friend, in the depths of despair, I am praying that God will deliver her. I know that my prayer is in line with God's will because the Bible teaches us to ask our Father for what we need. But if I am trying to figure out a way to solve her problems for her, it wouldn't fix everything. Her heart would still be broken. She doesn’t just need deliverance—she needs her Deliverer. Only God can heal her heart, draw her close, shower her with unconditional love, provide hope for her weary heart. Isn’t that what I really want for her? Isn’t that what I really want for myself? Her struggle doesn’t mean God isn’t good. It means just the opposite—it means that God is pursuing her, drawing her to Himself, proving His great love to her, wiping the tears from her eyes, filling her heart with hope, calming her spirit with peace. That is Grace. And what is better than Grace? Nothing.

So would you say a little prayer for me today and would you say a big one for Kara? Pray that God will be her strength as her life draws to a close. Pray that she will cling to her Deliverer and never let Him go. Pray for her family to be able to comfort each other with the comfort they have been given through Christ. Hard days are ahead for all of them, but God is good. He will be enough for all of them. And He is enough for me, even when my health needs are small compared to hers. He cares about every need and loves us all the same.

New beginnings

The first day of the New Year has come and with it, comes a deep desire for me to sit at my Savior's feet letting my heart spill out into His lap. I have been so weighed down with burdens. There is so much to pray for in this lonely, lost and hurting world. There is so much pain amid those I know and love...so many trials...so much suffering... but as I think about those things, I can't help but realize it is impossible to experience the depth of the God's care without pain in our lives. And perhaps that is why He allows it...to teach us to trust. He is our burden bearer. Psalm 68:19 says, Praise be to the LORD, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens." He wants to carry our burdens for us! Otherwise, why would He have said, in Matthew 11:28-30, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy [i.e., easy fitting], and my burden is light." He never intended for us to carry our burdens alone.
 
As I thought about the ones I wanted to lift up to the throne this morning, I couldn't help but think of Kara Tippetts, the young mother of 4 who is dying of stage 4 breast cancer.  Kara's family and friends have rallied around her as hospice care has begun. Any day now, I expect to receive word that she has gone home to glory. She is my sister, my friend, although I've never had the honor to meet her in person. I put myself in her place and try to imagine how I would feel if I were on my death bed struggling to take my last breath...longing to remain in this world so I could be with my children and loved ones but then, also reaching out to take Jesus' hand and cross into the next world, a world with no more pain. I can imagine the brokenness of her heart as she looks upon the sweet faces of her little ones, knowing they'll grow up without a mother...the deep wounded hurt of knowing she will have to leave her soul mate, her husband, alone and with so much responsibility. And even amid her dying, Kara has a deep understanding of all God has required of her...over the past couple of years of struggle, all the things she's endured to prolong her life... she's fought a good fight and allowed Jesus to shine through her every step of the way. Oh my heart breaks for her! She's had more than her share of suffering.

What an honor to intercede on behalf of those we love by taking their needs to the throne of Grace. What a privilege to call upon Jesus in the midst of their trials. For one friend, I'm asking Jesus to be her light in the midst of a dark despair that has been closing in on her from all sides. For another, that He'll be her comfort as she continues to grieve over the loss of her husband...and then, there's the friend who needs restoration of her marriage. The list goes on and on. Do you have friends who need prayer? Are there those in your family who need intercession? I am sure there are and I bet your list looks something like this, too.

What I’ve come to understand is that in this broken world, brokenness is normal. We can’t escape it. Some people experience much brokenness in their lives and others are barely touched by it at all. If life were what we wanted, if we had everything we desired, there would be no need for a Messiah, no need for Emmanuel - God with us.When I feel overwhelmed by the hurt and pain in my life, and I think the brokenness might suffocate me, God reminds me that He is still present. That He sees all of it and nothing escapes His attention, not even one single tear. He reminds me that all of this will soon pass away and every tear shall be wiped away and replaced with unending joy and hope...with His perfect peace. 

Have you ever noticed that the people who are the most madly in love with Jesus and the ones who seem to be the closest to Him are the ones who have experienced big hurts in their lives? Pain and suffering drive us into the arms of Jesus because that is where we find hope...comfort...and BIG GIANT LOVE. For those who know Him, for those who have learned of Him, they know that even when the hard times come, they aren't alone. That is why they can still find hope...they can smile even when things are difficult...they can still trust.

So today, as I reflect on the past, on the moments when Christ kept me, blessed me, comforted me, protected me...I give thanks. I will choose to feast on His love and remember that even though there is pain and suffering in this world, there is also great love. Even though there are trials and suffering, there is hope. And even in the midst of what seems to be a very hopeless place, God is still there. He is waiting. He is ready. He is willing...to meet your needs, to be your comforter, to give you strength, to supply you with an endless bounty of His goodness if you will just take His hand and trust Him.

Let this new year be a year of fresh beginnings. Let the things of the past go...all the hurts, all the bitterness...all the unforgiveness...let it go. Let God be your healing balm. Let His love wash over you and soothe all the sore places. Let Him make you whole and complete so you can go out into this hurting, broken world and show others that HE IS LOVE.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved