One year anniversary of my diagnosis

My breast cancer flag

Today marks one year since my life totally changed. It was 4:25 p.m. when the telephone rang. As I looked at the caller ID, I knew it was the call I had been waiting to receive. Piedmont Radiology lit up in bright blue LED letters. I hesitated to pick up the phone on the first ring because that would indicate my eagerness to hear what the radiologist had to say. I waited until the third ring and answered. I didn't realize it at the time, but I held my breath as the Radiologist began..."Mrs. Annis? We have the results of your pathology reports. I'm sorry to tell you that YOU HAVE CANCER."

I don't know what she said after the words YOU HAVE CANCER. I only remember trying to process my thoughts and it seemed that suddenly, I was far, far away. The words coming through my telephone receiver sounded like words from an old Charlie Brown movie where the teacher speaks and all Charlie Brown hears is "WAH WAH WAAAH WAH, WAH, WAH, WAAAH, WAH."

The phone call didn't last long. I was thankful I was home alone. As I hung up the receiver, I was in a state of disbelief and shock. "You have CANCER." "You HAVE CANCER...YOU HAVE CANCER!!!" The words kept repeating themselves in my mind. I slowly sat down in my recliner and held my head in my hands.

Although the diagnosis hit me like a ton of bricks, I had expected to hear these words. For some strange reason, God had already spoken to my spirit months ago and let me know that I did, indeed, have cancer. That is why, even in the midst of our buying a new house and moving to a different city, I kept hearing this little voice in the forefront of my mind telling me that I needed to get my breast checked. That mass I'd felt in the shower earlier in the year was something bad...something very bad.

It's hard to believe it's been a year since my diagnosis. So many things have transpired since then. Not only have I experienced major physical changes, I've experienced major emotional and spiritual changes as well.

Cancer has changed my life. For the past year, I've been on the weirdest roller coaster ride imaginable. My diagnosis started the car rolling fast and it picked up speed along the way. I whizzed into the OB/GYN's office, then into diagnostic testing, then up the hill toward biopsies. An even steeper climb lead me to the breast surgeon and on to surgery...then, plummeting down the hill of painful recovery and treatment. Up and down, up and down, twists and turns, faster and faster...seemingly out of control! And now, the roller coaster ride is finally slowing down enough for me to be able to see what's around the bend.

A lot of people don't like the words "cancer journey," but I think those are very fitting words to describe the life of a Christian in the midst of the trials associated with cancer. A journey is moving from one place to another and that's exactly how I've viewed breast cancer. It has helped me realize so many things about myself and has also helped me see that life and every moment contained therein, is absolutely precious. It has taken me from a place of routine and comfort to a place of wonder. Learning to live in the moment has become my new motto, and I have cancer to thank for that. I never realized how much I took for granted before my diagnosis.

As I look over this last year, I would have to say I've learned the lessons I was supposed to, and I have become a much richer person. Oh, I'm not perfect by any means! I’m still occasionally moody. I’m still an über-type-A personality. I find that I still take some days for granted but I try to focus on my many blessings.

It's amazing how, when suddenly faced with our impending mortality, we get a more clear understanding of what is really important in life. I have learned that God, family, friendship and love are truly all that matter.

In the year since I began my cancer journey, God has provided encouragement and support through the most incredible people and under the most unlikely circumstances. Because of the realization that at any moment the battle that we have so strongly, so bravely, and so valiantly fought, can end, we grab hold of these friendships and we hang on…sometimes for dear life. Amazingly, it’s as if the normal societal niceties, all of those rules that are normally expected when establishing friendships, are forgotten. Why waste time on petty banter and getting to know one another in the typical way? Cancer has helped me realize that time is of the essence!

I've learned to look more closely at the person's heart instead of their outer appearance. I try to see people through the eyes of God. It's so freeing to learn to be nonjudgmental! Instead of trying to figure someone out, I just take the attitude, "Hey! You like me and I like you, so let's be friends!" And it works.

I've been blessed with some wonderful friends. Friends I have connected with instantaneously and have loved deeply. Then there were those I didn’t know well, but mourned over when cancer claimed them...both of them young mothers who fought valiantly - Christina Newman and Kara Tippetts. There were also those with which I had very close personal relationships. These ladies were taken much too soon: My mother in law, Annie Annis, my dear sweet friend, Rachel Ross, and another dear friend, Debbie Jackson. These ladies allowed their relationships with God to carry them through cancer and gave me such a clear picture of trust and faith.

And here I sit. I have survived. Sometimes it seems so unfair. My approaching "Cancerversary," which occurs on July 9, (the day when the cancer was actually removed from my body), which by rights, should be a happy occasion, is bittersweet. It is tempered with the knowledge that, while I have survived my fight and face this upcoming milestone, many I have known and loved have lost their war. For me not to be overjoyed with my life is to do them all an incredible dishonor. These brave warriors I have had the fortune of knowing, may have left me in body, but I know they have not left me in spirit.

No one knows or understands why God allows some people to experience the trial of cancer and some to escape it, but I can tell you this, without my faith, I would never have made it through this first year. Without my family's love and support, I would have surely succumbed to a deep, dark depression and would have probably lost all hope.

Breast cancer is the most difficult trial I've faced to date...no, that's not really true...it has been the hardest, most EXTREMELY challenging period of my life. Every single day, I've had to choose to be optimistic. I've had to choose and hold on to hope. I've had to push through the pain. Some days all I can do is pray and ask God to give me strength to get through the day and He always does.

I've found strength in memorizing verses from the Bible. I've pasted them all over the walls of my house, on my computer screen, and on my cell phone so I can see them daily. One of my favorites is Phillipians 4:13, "I can do ALL things through Christ who gives me strength."

As I look back on the day I was diagnosed, even though it was a very difficult day, I can truly say I am thankful. That's a hard concept to grasp if you don't understand how important my faith is to me. You might wonder how anyone could ever be thankful to have been diagnosed with cancer and I hope I can help you gain a clearer understanding.

Before I was diagnosed, I had a good life. I was happily married, I had 4 kids, I had 7 grandchildren, I had a good job, I had a loving church family, and things were going along just fine. Everything was routine and safe and secure....I knew I was blessed but I took a lot for granted. I didn't thank God every morning He allowed me to wake up. I didn't count my minutes as precious. I just pretty much went through the day doing what I normally did and was happy doing it.

When cancer came along, everything changed. It was a HUGE wakeup call. It was a second chance at life. It was like a DO OVER! It was like God was saying, "Okay, you've been going along pretty well and enjoying your life, now how about waking up and seeing things the way I see them???" (forgive me for "putting words in God's mouth, but that's what I felt him saying to my heart.) That's when it hit me. I hadn't realized how very blessed I had been.

Now, each morning when I wake up and hear the birds singing outside my window, I immediately stop and give thanks. If the birds begin to sing and praise God at the very break of day, why shouldn't I?

The Bible says in Luke 12:48, "...From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked." I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God has allowed me to go through this cancer journey for a reason. It wasn't a fluke. It wasn't a coincidence. It wasn't a mistake. It was chosen specifically by God to mold me and make me into His image. I haven't learned all the lessons He wants to teach me yet, but I'm trying to be an attentive student.

Who knows what my life would have looked like over the past year if I had not begun that insanely wild and crazy ride on the cancer rollercoaster. I imagine it would have been pretty routine and even mundane at times.

When I was much younger, I used to love going to Six Flags over Georgia and riding the rollercoasters. I loved the excitement as the cars began that slow climb up the hill and then the whoosh of air and the rush of speed as the car made a quick descent down the first big hill. Hands in the air, I knew the destination. I knew the ride would be rapid and short. I knew it would be filled with gasps of excitement and small moments of fear as my stomach seemed to jump into my throat, but with breast cancer, the ride has been more intense...more devastating, more challenging and more fulfilling. 

Sometimes I don't know if a big hill is coming or a new twist is around the corner but I do know the destination. I know eventually I'll be in the presence of God and He'll allow me to ask all the questions that needed answers. I can't wait to have that talk with Him and hear exactly why He chose cancer as a tool to grow me into more Christ-likeness. I hope to hear Him say that I passed the test with flying colors because that will have made the ride worthwhile.

One year. It has passed by in the blink of an eye. On July 9, I will celebrate one year of being cancer free. I can honestly call myself a Breast Cancer Survivor on that day. Some people choose to celebrate their "cancerversary" on the day they were diagnosed but I think it's more fitting to celebrate the day the cancer was removed from my body.

The ride is not over just yet. I still have hills to climb. There are doctors' appointments splattered all throughout my calendar along with many diagnostic tests but that's okay. Those doctors are all helping to make sure I don't have a recurrence. I'm looking forward to the day when I hear them say, "Bonnie, you're NED today!" (N.E.D means "no evidence of disease.") That's the day I'll really whoop and holler! That's the day, the cancer ride will have come to an end for me. And I'll be so very thankful the ride is finally over. 

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Bobbing for Boobs

 Yesterday I got a wild hair. Have you ever had one of those? Hubby and I had been stuck indoors for days due to heavy rains and I was tired of it! The sun had finally come out and was shining bright. Everything was drying under the warm summer sun so I said, "Let's go for a hike!" So Hubs and put on our sneakers, grabbed a couple of bottled waters and headed out.

We drove to a nearby nature area. I grabbed my camera (I always have to have my camera with me) and started toward the entrance of the park. We noticed there weren't many cars in the parking lot yet, so it should be easy to get to the trails quickly. Water bottles were tucked into my husband's pants pockets and off we went.

The weather was gorgeous! A bright blue sky with large, white puffy clouds was directly above us. Just off to the side of the trail, there were lush, green plants and on the other side of us was a beautiful river. The beginning of the trail was covered with tree roots and we had to watch our step carefully as it began to meander up and over hills. As we kept moving along, we faced a few more challenges as the trail became steeper and covered in rocks or descended fording small streams. We were so happy to be outdoors, we didn't pay much attention to the temperature but I did notice that I was beginning to "glisten" (Southern Belles don't sweat, they glisten!) and felt my shirt becoming a little damp.

We took a breather upon a large boulder and drank some water. As we stood there, marveling at the beauty of God's creation, we saw a large Great Blue Heron near the water's edge. Quickly, I set up my camera and took the shot...it was perfect! We lingered there a little longer as several other hikers came down the trail and then we decided to move on.

As we came to the end of the first trail, we realized we'd done about 2 miles already according to the park map. We turned around and headed toward the other end of the park so we could catch a new trail and head toward some Civil War ruins. As we continued traversing the roots and rocks, I realized my energy level was starting to wane.

On our way down the trail, we saw families with their little ones playing in the water. There were rope swings and other places for the children to enjoy themselves. We smiled and kept walking. We had a nice rhythm going and didn't want to break our stride.

We walked for over 2 hours and when we had completed every trail in the park, we'd logged about 6 miles of hiking. We meandered out of the park and toward our car. By that time, I was really hot and really tired. The back of my neck was wringing wet and my husband was sweating profusely. As soon as we got into the car, I turned on the air conditioning full blast.

When we got home, I told hubs that I needed to change clothes. I was sticky and wanted to freshen up. I had to ask for help removing my shirt and then, as I slipped my bra and prostheses off, I noticed the inside of my bra (the part that touched my skin) was dirty and damp. The prostheses had slipped out of their place and had gotten a little dirty too. I realized at that point it I shouldn't have worn them, but I was self conscious without them, so I did.

I slid the prostheses out of their pockets in my mastectomy bra and threw the bra in the washer. As I held the fake boobs in my hands, their silicone shape was slimy feeling. I remembered, when I bought them, being told they were washable. I pulled out the instruction manual to read how to do it. The manual said to wash them gently in warm, soapy water and then pat them dry and return them to their cases.

In the bathroom, I filled up the sink with warm water and added a little soap. I was afraid to wash my "girls" for fear of puncturing them so I took my rings off. These things were almost $600 and I definitely didn't want to pop a hole in one of them! Gently, I slid the first breast form into the water. it slipped under the bubbles and then bobbed back up! There in the midst of the bubbles, I saw a pale pinkish tan nipple looking up at me. I'd never noticed that before. There was a flat impression of a nipple on the form. I wondered why it was there because when inserted in the mastectomy bra, it couldn't be seen anyway. Maybe it was just a mental mind game for the wearer of the prosthetic.

Looking at the breast forms moving around in the water, I was suddenly reminded of a childhood memory. It was almost Halloween and we were at a neighbor's house about to begin playing Halloween games. The game I hated most was bobbing for apples. Every time we bent our heads down to grasp the apple, the apple would dip down and slide away. It was a very frustrating game!

The silicone forms were slippery when wet and it was hard to hold onto them. As I tried to wash the first one, it slipped through my fingers more than once. It was like trying to hold onto a slippy, slidey bar of wet soap. Finally, I got the hang of it. This was my first time washing them. I'd had these forms for over a year. Actually, I had never needed to wash them because I had only worn them once or twice before and had never worn them hiking in the summer.

So now, the girls are lying on a hand towel on my bathroom counter as they dry. They look funny lying there. I'm glad my husband is at work so he doesn't have to see them. I think the next time I go hiking, these things are going to stay home in their little pink boxes right where they belong. Sweaty Silicone is not attractive, not in the least.

It's a good thing there's not a game called "Bobbing for Boobs." Number one, I don't think it would be appropriate for children to play. Number two, I think men would enjoy it too much. Number three, the silicone prostheses would probably incur a lot of collateral damage. And number four, it just seems kind of silly, don't you think?

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Taking time to remember

The one year anniversary of my cancer diagnosis is just around the corner. Today, I was in a contemplative mood and thought it would be good to start focusing on all God's done in my life since that life altering day. Remembering is an important part of a faith journey and God's done so much over the past year, I didn't know where to begin.

I remembered that in the bottom of my coat closet lay a large fabric duffle bag. In that bag were all the greeting cards I've received since June 5, 2014. There are hundreds of them, all shapes and sizes. Some of them are from friends I've known for many years. Some of them are from people I've never met. I decided that would be a good place to start, so I pulled out the bag. It was heavy! I took the bag to the kitchen table and spread them out. There were so many!

As I looked at them, I couldn't get over the massive number of cards I'd received. The table top is covered in a bright array of color. I sift through them and choose one randomly. Reading the sweet sentiment brings me to tears. I pick up another and then another. Reading each one carefully, I ask God to bring to mind a visual image of each person. For the people I don't know, I ask Him to just remind me of their kindness to a complete stranger, and He does.

I'm quickly overwhelmed as I read through each and every card. I remember how I felt many of the days in the past year and how, when I heard the mail truck nearing my mailbox, I'd perk up just a little wondering if someone had sent me a card. Those little cards got me through some really dark days and every single one of them came in God's perfect timing.

Some days I'd receive a card that was funny...those seemed to come on days when I was really down in the dumps. Other days, I'd receive a card that contained a verse or two of Scripture. Those cards came when I was feeling very alone and in need of encouragement. God used so many people to minister His love to me throughout the past year.

There were a couple of friends who faithfully sent me cards every week or so... Margot and Sarah. One of these ladies, Margot, I've known for many years and she is a very dear friend to me. She knows me very well and knows her funny sense of humor always makes me smile. She never failed to infuse her faith with her silliness and for that, I am deeply grateful. Another friend, Sarah, I've never had the privilege of meeting. This woman is in her 90's and is an artist. She, like Margot, sent beautiful handmade creations. Their cards are the most special to me because of the time and effort they put into making their cards.

As I gently touched several of their cards, I thought about the processes they took to compile their cards. There were various textures and mediums used. I'm a card maker too, so I really enjoyed seeing their creativity. Each one of their cards was different and unique.

The cards displayed over my table reminded me that people, just like the cards, are all very different. Some of them are sweet and gentle. Others are bold and sassy. In every instance though, God knew which ones would bless me and on which day He'd prompt each specific one of them to contact me.

The cards have all but stopped coming now. Sometimes I feel a little discouraged that I'm not remembered as often as I was in the past, but I know people's lives get busy. I'm sure God will occasionally prompt one of them to send me another card, or text, or maybe even nudge them to make a phone call in the future on those days I could use a little hug.

Isn't God good? He knows our needs even before we ask. He knows when we need a little extra TLC and sometimes, He uses others to be His hands and feet. I'm so thankful for all the sweet friends who took the time to follow His leading during the toughest year of my life. They may have thought their quick scribble on a drugstore card was just a simple act of thoughtfulness but those cards...those precious cards are so much more than that to me! I've kept each and every one as a special momento. One of these days, I'm going to put them all into a scrapbook so I'll have a permanent record of those gestures of love.

It's almost been a year since my diagnosis. I'll never forget that horrible day, the day my life was forever changed, but God, in His mercy and grace, used this past year for my good. It's taken me almost an entire year to understand and see His hand guiding me through each part of my journey, but it was always there and I am so very grateful.

Whenever you feel a little prompting in your spirit to drop someone a note or make a phone call, don't hesitate! Be obedient and do it. Someone may be waiting for a word of encouragement and God may be planning on using you to meet their need. I've been on the receiving end and I've been on the giving end, too. What a blessing both can be!

If you are one of the people who took time to write me a note or send me a card during the past year, please know how very precious you are to me! Your card or letter is among those scattered across my table right now and among those I hold so dear to my heart. Thank you, thank you, thank you! And may God bless you for your kindness! With love, Bonnie

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Social Security Disability

Over 7 months ago, at the advice of a friend, I applied for Social Security Disability. Surely they would consider Breast Cancer a disabling disease, right? Well, not so! Three months later, I received a letter stating that I had been denied benefits and was given the option to appeal. I thought long and hard about it. Should I appeal or should I not? I'd been working since the age of 15 and I'd been contributing to the Social Security program since then...why shouldn't I appeal now that I was unable to be gainfully employed? All those dollars I'd had deducted from my paychecks was mine, right? And I needed it now!

Well, after months of waiting, I received a letter requesting me to attend a psychological evaluation as part of Social Security's appeal process. I agreed to participate and had no idea what to expect. As a child, I was always taught that honesty was the best policy and that teaching has carried into my adult life. Each question asked by the psychologist was answered in that manner. The evaluation took about an hour and as I left, I felt good about the appointment. So I went home and waited some more. 

Today, I received a letter from the SSA (Social Security Administration) stating they didn't think I was disabled to the extent that I could no longer work. They advised that if I was unsatisfied with their decision, I could ask for a hearing. I talked to my friend, who has a friend that works for the SSA, and she said this is standard procedure. According to my friend, most people are denied twice and then must hire an attorney to finally get their benefits. She said that's what I should do. Well...I thought about it. 

I decided that I'd rather not have to jump through any more SSA hoops in order to try and receive disability benefits. Sure, those benefits would have helped greatly with medical bills and prescriptions but to me, it's just not worth it. 

Before submitting my appeal, I prayed about it and asked God for His will to be done. I took the answer of "no" today as His answer. Apparently, there's some reason I was not approved and though disappointing, I'm taking it as His best answer for me. I have to remind myself that His ways are not my ways. He always knows best! He knows what the future holds and I do not.

Just think...it I had gotten approved for the benefits, it would have changed my life in several different ways. It would have made our financial situation a whole lot better but it would have allowed me to put my trust in the extra monthly income instead of in God. That would not have been a good thing, therefore, I consider this a blessing in disguise. By God's "no," I can see things more clearly. My faith and trust need to always be in Him and Him alone. I'm thankful I didn't have to learn that lesson the hard way! And so, this is just another blip on the radar...life goes on.

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Just do it!

Back in 1988, Dan Wieden came up with the Nike tagline "Just do it." Those 3 simple words have become inspirational to so many people with regard to a variety of different things. Mr. Wieden, in his video interview, stated he was looking for a slogan that would speak not only to beginning athletes, like the stay at home mom, but also to world class athletes. This morning, when I woke up, those 3 little words were running through my mind.

"Just do it!" Just make yourself get out of bed and get on that treadmill today...just do it. But I hate exercise. The only exercise I've ever really enjoyed is hiking. Since I don't have any mountain trails around here to hike on, the next best thing is my trusty treadmill. Oh it's been sitting in my office for the past year. It's gotten used a few times, too, but I know, I have to commit to do more.

On my last visit to the oncologist, he told me that I needed to work really hard on losing some weight. His reasoning was very clear..."fat cells produce Estrogen and Estrogen feeds your cancer. The leaner you can become, the less chance you'll have at recurrence." Okay, doc...I get it. I have to get my butt in gear and start moving.

But I haven't felt like moving. Since surgery and radiation, my body has been in constant pain. I mean, I HURT ALL THE TIME! There hasn't been one single day that I haven't felt aches and pains all over my body. When you're hurting, it makes it hard to want to move much. In fact, it feels pretty good to just sit. But the more I sit, the more I spread! And I don't want to become a big, fat, squishy blob, now do I?

So, I had a high protein breakfast this morning. I figured that's what runners do before they start their jog...they load up on protein to give them lots of energy, but I don't really know, because I'm not nor do I ever want to be a jogger! After eating breakfast, I slipped on my sneakers. (I'd found some Ryka training shoes online at Ryka.com I'd read many reviews about walking/running shoes and found these to have great reader comments and excellent rebounding qualities.) I was determined that today was going to be a new day. I was going to do what I had to do. I was going to fight to live, and if beating cancer meant I had to walk when I didn't feel like it, so be it. I was going to "JUST DO IT!"

Before I just "did" it, I needed to find out how to maximize my walk. There had to be more to walking than just walking. I knew I needed to learn what my Target Heart Rate should be, so I went to this site. After doing all that math, I was wiped out...NO, NOT REALLY LOL! Anyway, I got my numbers and then looked online for some walking playlists with songs that fell in the 128 to 150 BPM (beats per minute) range. After loading the music up to my ITunes, I cranked up the volume and jumped on the treadmill.

I started out fairly slow, just to give myself a little warm up...2 miles an hour for 5 minutes. At each 5 minute interval, I changed the incline and the speed of the treadmill. Periodically, I checked my pulse to make sure I was getting close to my target heart rate and as I continued walking, I noticed I was having to work at little harder and my breathing was increasing.

The music helped take my mind off what I was doing. I was actually getting into it after 15 minutes. I pushed the incline up to a 5% grade and increased the speed to 3.5. I was walking pretty fast now and almost in a slow jog. I was proud of myself!

I only got thirty minutes of fast walking in this morning, but it's a start. I did notice while I was on the treadmill, my body didn't seem to hurt as much as it did when I was sitting still. Maybe it was because I was moving everything all at once and I just didn't have time to focus on one individual portion of my body...maybe it was just that I was caught up in the music and didn't care...who knows?!

I don't really like walking on the treadmill, to be honest with you. I'd rather be outdoors but we don't have anywhere suitable to walk near my home. To compensate for this, I fake myself out. I have a huge canvas of one of my photos hanging smack dab in front of my treadmill. It's a photo I took while in Alaska of the snow covered Mt. Denali (formerly known as Mt. McKinley.) As I'm walking, I imagine myself climbing slowly and surely up that mountain. When I look at those snow covered peaks, I can't help but think about the sheer determination of mountain climbers. They know their sport is dangerous. They know one mistake could take them to their death and yet, they do it anyway...the conquest of the mountain takes precedence. They move forward one icy step at a time. They just do it.

I'd like to think I have the determination and dedication to do what I have to do now to stay alive. I know it won't be easy but I'm not giving up without a fight. Before cancer, I never thought I'd have to fight to stay alive and now, it's all I think about. I want to live so I have to fight, and if fighting means I have to exercise every day of my life to keep my body from producing excess Estrogen, then I'll just have to come to terms with that. Hey, if I do it long enough, I might even begin to enjoy it, but until then, I'm going to JUST DO IT! Thanks, Nike.

 "I discipline my body like an athlete training it to do what it must do." 1 Corinthians 9:27

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Learning to accept my physical limitations

Boy, cancer has taught me many things over the last year and it continues to teach me even today. The lessons aren't always pleasant or easy, but they are valuable. My current lesson is learning how to face and accept my physical limitations.

Yesterday, I decided to reupholster my dining room chairs. Although I'd only had them a year, the original fabric was showing some signs of wear. Since I'm always looking for a new project to do,
voilà! So, I headed to the fabric store in search of the perfect material.

Perusing the aisles, I found a beautiful olive green upholstery fabric that would match the green in my Persian wool rug. I was thankful the material was on sale, because the original price tag indicated it was $49.99 a yard! The current sale listed the fabric at 50% off! Since  the upholstery fabric was almost 5 feet wide, I only needed 2 yards to cover 6 chairs. At the counter, when I went to check out, the store manager saw me frantically searching my cell phone for a coupon. She told me if I visited their website, I'd find an additional "20% off your entire purchase" coupon available. I snatched that coupon in a hurry and saved a whopping 70% off my fabric...WOOHOO! 

When I got home, I couldn't wait to get started on my project. I asked my husband if he'd help by taking the seats out of the chairs for me. I knew I wasn't going to be able to twist and turn the screwdriver to remove all the screws in 6 chairs. He was so sweet to help and had the chair bottoms removed in a flash. 

Taking the huge bolt of fabric, my husband helped me lay the fabric out on the living room floor. It was the only place I could think of to maneuver, measure, and cut. I took the first seat and lay it on the upholstery fabric measuring the length and width carefully. Next, I began cutting 6 pieces of fabric. After I had all the fabric pieces completed, I began to work on the first chair. 

Reupholstering chair seats is fairly easy. I've done it many times before and planned to complete all 6 chairs in just an hour or so. A staple gun helped make the work quick but as I began pulling and tugging on the fabric to stretch it into place, I realized it wasn't going to be as easy as I thought. It was challenging to press down hard on the end of the staple gun while holding the thick upholstery fabric in place. The first several shots were misfires...the staples either didn't go in all the way or were bent. It was going to take a lot more pressure to get them in properly, so I kneeled over and put as much weight as I could on the end of the gun. Pressing more firmly allowed the staples to penetrate the fabric more easily. 

I worked for about 30 minutes on the first seat. I found myself struggling to get through it. My arms were swelling quickly and I just didn't have the strength to continue. I took a break and rested. It was so frustrating to realize I just didn't have the ability to do the things I used to do. I felt like a weakling...a failure. I shouldn't have to be resting after only working on one seat cushion. 

Talking with my husband, I shared my disappointment. He reassured me that I would get the project done eventually. I might not get all the chair cushions covered in one day, like I had planned, but I could do one or two. 

I'm a type A personality so I like to finish things I start and finish them quickly. I have a hard time admitting defeat. I didn't like having to take a break and prop my arms up to reduce the swelling. I felt like a spoiled rotten little kid who didn't get her way. I wanted to stamp my feet and shout, "no fair!" Instead, I sat in my recliner, with pillows under each arm, until the swelling went down. As soon as it did, I got back down on the floor to complete another chair. 

It wasn't easy to accept the defeat of not completing the entire set of chairs in one day, but at least I got two covered. My husband screwed the seats back into place and we both sat back to marvel at how nice they looked. I was pleased with my work and although I would have preferred to have been looking at 6 completed chairs, 2 was okay for today. I knew I had done all I could do. I couldn't have done more even if I'd pushed myself. My body was worn out. 

I'm making progress! Slowly, but surely, I'm realizing I have to make concessions and listen to my body. I'll admit, sometimes I don't like it. I know it isn't wise to press beyond my limitations. I've learned what happens when I do that and I always suffer afterwards. I'd rather take things a little slower and make steady progress than cause myself undue pain. I guess that's a sign of maturity and it's high time I grow up a little, even if I don't really want to!

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Throwing inhibition to the wind

I used to be ultra modest. I was probably so modest that most would have even called me a prude. I used to get undressed in my closet when I was growing up because I shared a room with my sister and I didn't want anyone, not even my sister, to see me without clothes on.

I have no idea when I became so concerned with my body image. Perhaps it was when I began to go through puberty. I do remember feeling really strange as my mother talked to me about the physical changes I'd begin to go through, and I think I remember fourth grade being the point of no return...

Through my teenage years and even into my married life, I've remained very self conscious about my body. When I was in Girl Scouts, I always made sure to undress in the bathroom or in the darkness of my tent. I'd wiggle way down into my sleeping bag and somehow manage to remove my clothes and slip into my pajamas. When I was invited to sleepovers with my friends, I never removed my clothing in front of them. I always made some excuse to slip into another room where I could have privacy. You'd think by the time I was married, I would have lost my modesty, wouldn't you? But, no...I continued my routine of dressing and undressing in the bathroom or under cover of darkness. My modesty grew into inhibition and while I knew it was odd behavior, I continued to do it.

So when did I throw inhibition to the wind? I'd have to say about 3 months after my double mastectomy. Right after surgery, I still tried to cover myself and keep people from seeing my hideous scars, but as I found myself in the midst of treatment and constantly having to remove my top, I had my AHA moment! It was as if a lightening bolt struck me smack dab on the head..."why are you so concerned? You don't have any boobs any longer! There's nothing to see!" At that point, I realized there was freedom in being able to remove my blouse without fear or dread.

I'm no longer embarrassed when medical staff ask me to undress in front of them. In all actuality, I just whip off my shirt and sit there topless, without a care in the world, while they talk to me. It feels a little strange to be so comfortable in my own skin, but without breasts, I have nothing to hide. My scars are my battle wounds. They are evidence that I've been through a horrible war and they are my badges of honor. I'm proud of them! Yes, if you were to see them, you'd probably cringe. They aren't pretty by any means. They're very ugly...about 12 inches long, angry reddish purple, about a half inch or more in width...can you get a good visual of the surgeon's scalpel slicing across my chest? I'm sure you get the idea by now. So how have I been able to become so bold in revealing my skin when I used to be so insecure and inhibited? I can think of no other way than God.

God has given me the freedom to accept myself just as I am. When I first went through surgery, I was horrified. I had to make myself look at my body about a week after my scars had begun to heal. I was terrified to look down at my chest and see that I'd been robbed of my femininity. But over the months, as my scars and my emotions have healed, God has done a wonderful thing! He's even given me a sense of humor about it all. Take today, for instance.

I had an appointment with the dentist. I'd had one earlier in the year and had cancelled it because I just didn't quite feel up to going to yet another medical appointment. My teeth needed to be cleaned and I knew I was going to have to keep this appointment, so I began to get ready. I took a shower and put on my makeup. Before I got dressed, I stood looking at myself in the mirror...should I, or shouldn't I? I stood there wondering whether or not to wear my FOOBS (my fake boobs, my silicone girls). I was feeling pretty good and I hadn't taken them out in a while, so I opted to wear them. I went into my bedroom and carefully lifted them out of their boxes (the little pink, round, hatboxes they'd given me at the prosthetic store). "Come on girls, we're goin' for a spin," I said as I slid them into my mastectomy bra. I slipped first one strap, then the other over my shoulders and carefully reached around to fasten the clasp. I slipped on my blouse, pants, and shoes. I grabbed my purse, cell phone and keys and headed out the door.

As I was driving to the dentist's office, I listened to the radio. It was a beautiful day. I was happy that I felt good. Good days are few and far between lately, but I've been getting some good sleep thanks to the Ambien my doctor just prescribed, and it's making a difference. I pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. As I reached for the door to his office, I remembered that his staff hadn't seen me in almost a year.

When I walked up to the receptionist's counter, the front office staff greeted me happily. "Hi, Mrs. Annis! How are you? It's good to see you!" (I'd become sort of a celebrity since they'd last seen me. One of the local reporters had done a piece on breast cancer awareness in October and had done a full page spread on me and my story. There were photos and interviews with my family members. Almost everyone in our town had seen it.) I smiled back at them and returned their greetings. When they asked how I was doing, I grinned and said, "fantastic, and I even wore my boobs for you today!" Yes, I'd say I've thrown inhibition to the wind...no more modesty for me! I guess that could be a good thing or maybe even a bad thing, at times...."

The receptionist was taken aback by my statement and then she laughed and said, "you didn't have to wear your boobs just for us...in fact, next time, feel free not to wear them." "I just might do that," I told her...freedom...AHHHH!

© bonnie annis all rights reserved