Through the lens

Last night I watched the movie, "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty" again. I've seen it several times but I always find something new as I watch it. This time was no different. If you haven't seen it, let me give you a brief synopsis. Ben Stiller plays the lead part of Walter Mitty, a negative asset manager at the acclaimed LIFE magazine. His character is a constant daydreamer and frequently "zones out" during conversations with friends and at other random times throughout the day. His life is mundane however, he constantly dreams of adventures and great romance. A chain of events takes him from his daydreaming into a real life adventure where he must travel globally in search of Sean O'Connell, a famous photographer, played by Sean Penn.

Toward the end of the movie, Walter Mitty finds Sean sitting atop a mountain peak in the Himalayas. Sean has set up his expensive professional camera on a tripod awaiting the appearance of a rare snow leopard. Walter sits alongside Sean and asks why he is there, and what he is waiting to photograph. As Sean begins to explain, the snow leopard appears. Sean immediately shifts the camera eyepiece over to allow Walter a glimpse of the beautiful creature. At the same time, Sean sits beside the camera focusing his trained photographer's eye on the animal.Walter sits quietly for a minute and then a profound conversation occurs:

Walter Mitty: "When are you going to take it?" (talking about Sean taking the photo of the snow leopard)
Sean O'Connell: "Sometimes I don't. If I like a moment, for me, personally, I don't like to have the distraction of the camera. I just want to stay in it." (he wants Walter to understand that the moment is often more valuable than the capture on film.)

That conversation touched my heart. You see, I'm an avid photographer, too. There's nothing that gives me more pleasure than finding the perfect subject to shoot in the perfect light. I've always dabbled in photography since childhood, but never made it my main hobby until several years ago. I love taking photographs of my family, especially my grandchildren, but even more than that, I find nature photography to be my great love.

Several weeks ago, I had an experience like Sean O'Connell (the photographer in the movie who is played by Sean Penn.) I was sitting in my office working on my laptop when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I glanced up from the computer to see a beautiful deer family starting across my front yard. Immediately, I jumped up, grabbed my camera and headed toward the front door. I knew if I made the slightest sound, they'd be gone. Opening the door very slowly and quietly, I slipped out onto the front porch and stood as still as a statue. I was waiting for the perfect shot. I watched as the buck led the doe and 2 tiny, spotted fawns further up into my yard. They were enjoying some tender young plants as they gingerly stepped across the lawn. I raised my camera to capture them grouped together and then, without realizing it, I dropped my arm and held the camera by my side. I was enthralled by the sight of the beautiful deer in front of me. Yes, I would have loved to have captured those graceful, gentle animals in digital format but more importantly, I wanted to capture them in my memory. How many people get to enjoy the sight of an entire deer family within several yards of them? I doubt that many do.

I stood watching the deer for the longest time. Frozen on the front porch for fear of spooking them, I took in every frame and captured them in my mind's camera...my memory. A big truck sped by on the road in front of my house and spooked the deer. They went running helter skelter through my yard...the moment was gone. I was thankful I'd chosen not to use my Nikon that morning. It's a shame I can't share the photo with others, but it is safely tucked inside my mind for safe keeping.

I was surprised at myself for not taking the shot...it was a perfect, picture postcard kind of photograph. It would have given me great joy to hear others exclaim what a talented photographer I'd been, but I chose to forego that experience. Treasuring my God kiss, (that's what I call special experiences like the deer coming in unison to my yard for me to see that morning), I turned slowly to go back inside the house. I was smiling as I entered my office and sat down again at my laptop. Pulling up my digital journal, I began to write about the experience. Yes, I'd captured the memory in my mind, but I wanted to write about it too just in case my memory faded as days go by.

My mind wandered back to the scene in the movie where Sean Penn is sitting on the side of a snow covered mountain in the Himalayas. Ben Stiller is looking through the camera lens and seeing only a small portion of the beautiful snow leopard. Sean is taking in the entire scene and marveling at those moments that will never be able to be experienced again. "Sometimes if I like a moment....I just want to stay in it." I understood completely what he meant by that statement. A photograph of the deer would have been priceless to me. I could have enlarged it, put it on canvas, and hung it in my home for visitors to see, but I didn't. That very moment was mine and mine alone. No one else had seen what I'd seen. It felt special just knowing that I'd witnessed an entire deer family interacting together as they enjoyed their morning meal.

For me, simple gifts of nature inspire me. I can sit and watch a hummingbird for hours. I marvel at the intricate beauty and perfect design in all of God's handiwork. I do love photography, but sometimes you just have to forget the camera and use your eyes. In the blink of an eye, a special moment will disappear and I am not willing to take that risk. I want to stay in the moment and just enjoy it.

**Oh! You'll never believe this! As I was finishing up this blog post, I glanced out my window and two doe were walking diagonally across my front yard! Now if that isn't a confirmation of the need to not always use my camera, I don't know what is! I didn't even reach for it, there was no time. I saw the moment and stayed in it and I enjoyed every second of it! It's going to be a great day!

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

She did it anyway

All my life, I've been considered a happy person. Many people have even told me I'm a Pollyanna...a person who unrealistically looks at the world through rose colored glasses and always tries to find the best in every situation. I'll not only accept that, I'm honored to be called a Pollyanna. I think it pleases God when we look for the best in bad situations. When cancer came into my life, it slowly began to steal my joy. I found myself not quite as happy as I once was, after all, it's very difficult to look for positive things when your world is falling apart...but I began recently asking myself how I can be happy despite having cancer.

The first thing I had to do when I was diagnosed with cancer was to accept it.Whether or not I wanted to have it, I did. There was nothing, absolutely nothing I could do to change the fact so I needed to just accept it and go forward. By choosing to accept the facts, I could choose how I would react to them too. I chose to be as positive as I could.

Someone once said that important life lessons don't come from easy paths but from the struggles we go through. Those struggles help us see and understand what we're made of and also help us learn more about our own character. Difficult times help us learn to love more, to appreciate more, and help us become more resilient.

Choosing to be happy even during times that are tough has allowed me to see things differently. I can find light in dark places. I can find laughter in the midst of sadness. I can find joy in the middle of frustration. I won't allow cancer to dictate how I respond to things. I don't want to expend any more energy than absolutely necessary focusing on cancer or the struggles it has brought into my life. I have the power to silence the screaming voice of cancer that daily reminds me that things aren't quite the way I'd like them to be right now. If I allowed myself to listen to the negativity of the voice of cancer, I would find myself falling into a pit of dark despair. Negativity tears down...destroys...imprisons. I can't go there.


Perhaps I am a perpetual optimist. I won't be unrealistic and say that more people are optimistic than pessimistic because I know that is not the case in today's world. Those who choose to rise above their circumstances and remain positive are blessed indeed. They are blessed with an inner strength that usually comes from a deep faith in God. People who focus on the negative spend their lives dwelling on the bad instead of looking for the good. They are pessimistic to their very core, even when blessings cross their paths on a daily basis, they choose not to see.

I have chosen to see my journey as a life lesson. My response to this lesson will be determined by my outlook and I choose to remain positive. For me, it takes too much effort to be negative. It's so much easier to look for the good in every situation than to find the negatives! I want my life to be an example of a strong faith in God. I want to be found faithful on this journey. I have purposely begun to keep a gratitude journal and in it, I record daily blessings. By doing this, I am forced to focus more on the positive things God brings into my life. By writing down even the smallest things I'm thankful for, I see God's hand working in my life every single day. Nothing is coincidental. Everything is according to His plan. He provides joy to each of us, we just have to train ourselves to look for it and find it.

It isn't always easy to be happy. Sometimes I have to purpose in my heart to find joy. Often, when I am physically hurting, I don't feel like smiling or being joyful...but I do it anyway. In the grand scheme of things, there are so many people who are worse off than I am! I have so much to be thankful for and I find joy in counting my blessings. Yes, I have cancer and yes it is the biggest challenge I've faced in my life to date but...I can still see and hear and think and move. I can still find reasons to love, reasons to hope, reasons to live. I won't give up and I won't give in.

Happiness comes from the heart and my heart is filled with the love of Christ. How can I be sad, angry, and depressed when I have so much to be thankful for every single day? I won't allow cancer to have control over my emotions. I will continue to look for the silver linings on the cloudy days. I choose happiness!

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

 

The power of prayer

Yesterday was an extremely hard day for me and I think it was probably the worst day by far with regard to physical fatigue. After sharing my difficulties with family and friends, I took the remainder of the day to do absolutely nothing but rest. I had no energy to do anything else. I didn't even make my bed yesterday, which is totally out of character for me but I just physically couldn't do it.

Today is a different day, I'm glad to report! I know it is a result of many prayer warriors who have been fighting alongside me in this battle. They have undergirded me with their faithful prayers. I feel a little more energetic today...in fact, I just stripped my bed, and put a load of laundry in to wash. Those mundane chores may seem like nothing to those of you who have good health but to those of us who are struggling...those little things are a major accomplishment on treatment days.

Treatment 14 is today. In just about an hour, I'll drive myself to the radiation clinic and go through the daily routine of getting undressed, slipping on a gown, lying under the linear accelerator, and watching lasers mark my body. After I'm adjusted properly on the table and all of my little tattoo markings are lined up with the lasers, the machine will begin to hover over me and I'll hear all sorts of clicking and popping. They won't be applying the "bolus" today. Dr. Santiago came in yesterday and said that part of treatment was over. (The "bolus" is a thick wet towel that is applied over the chest where my breasts used to be. It acts as a layer of human tissue to trick the radiation into thinking it is penetrating a thick layer of muscle and skin.) Beams of radiation will be shot at me from various angles and after about thirty minutes, I'll come home. I'm thankful today is Friday because that means I won't have to go to the radiation clinic for two whole days! That little break in treatment is a wonderful mini vacation for me, but on Monday, we'll start all over again. When I get home, I'll immediately apply Radiaplex gel to my torso to alleviate some of the skin burns. It will begin to sooth the burns within a very short period of time. Throughout the day, I'll reapply the gel two more times in hopes of keeping the burns to a minimum.

I'd like to thank all those who are faithful to lift me up in prayer. I know God hears those prayers and honors them. I am grateful to have a team of support. Just knowing you're behind me makes me want to fight even harder. Forgive me on the days I am weak. I'm doing my best to be strong but some days are worse than others. Please continue to pray for these specific needs as you think about me:

• For physical stamina
• Protection of my skin in the area they are radiating
• Protection of my right lung and my liver from harmful radiation beams that can damage them permanently
• For my throat (they are radiating this area too and I've already begun to experience some hoarseness and difficulty swallowing)
• For financial provision for medical bills
• For Phil's mental and physical well being (he's trying to be strong for me and also working long hours to provide for our needs)
• For my children as they continue to process all of this in their own unique ways

Thank you for your sweet love and support! Your words of encouragement through cards, prayers, letters, texts, and Facebook messages have meant so much! You are so special to me!

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

"Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed . The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." James 5:16 KJV

 

"Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven." Matthew 18:19 ESV
 

The great pretender

A very tired me...no filters...a little lipstick and a little blush.

Today I realized that I'm tired...no, I'm more than tired...I'm completely exhausted. In fact, I feel like I have the flu. Every single move I make is an effort. The doctor warned me that this day would come. Today will be my 13th treatment. I'm not even halfway through radiation yet. I'm feeling very old and very tired.

I didn't want to get out of bed this morning. When the alarm went off at 5 a.m. I just wanted to turn over and go back to sleep but I couldn't. My car is in the shop having a cracked radiator repaired, so that meant I had to get up to take Phil to work in order to have the car for my treatment today. I had to physically make myself get out of bed and with great effort, put on my clothes and walked out the door. 

When I got back home from taking him to work, I crawled back in bed. Anyone who knows me knows I NEVER DO THAT. But this morning, I had to...my body was telling me it needed rest. I read my Bible and had my devotional time then asked God to please let me sleep for one more hour. I woke up just before 8, exactly one hour from the time I closed my eyes the second time. 

I didn't feel like eating anything but knew I need some energy so I made a protein shake in the blender. After drinking that, I put on a little makeup and took a phone call from my oldest daughter, Erin. I told her how tired I was feeling and lo, and behold...she imparted such wisdom to me that I had to ask her where it came from! She said, "Mom, you need to stop trying to be super woman. You need to rest. Your body is still in the healing stages. You're just barely into your radiation treatments. the radiation is killing both your bad and good cells. Your body needs rest to rebuild those healthy cells. You need to stop pretending that everything is okay and stop letting people only see your good side. When people only see a pretty, made up face, they think you'd doing great and everything is okay. You need to tell people when you don't feel well and tell them when you don't feel like visiting. Ask Phil for help. If you don't feel like doing the housework, don't. Let things go. Rest. Take care of yourself." I listened to her and took in every word. She was right. I hadn't really been letting people see the real me during all of this...I'd been hiding behind my makeup, pretending I was okay...pretending to be strong and together.

I made a commitment to myself today to stop pretending. I have very little excess energy these days anyway, and I'm not going to waste it on pretending, so I’ve decided to use it to be brave enough to see what is real, to believe what is real, and to live in what is real….whatever imperfect, broken, beautiful thing that ends up being from day to day.

In my mind I’ve been 25, healthy, and strong. But in reality, I'm 56, sick and weak. I have been 25 in my mind for years. (Well….maybe I have let myself get all the way up to 32 or 33...and held on for dear life really believing on some deep level that I could stop the clock until things were back to “normal," but it was never true and I knew it!) While this worked well as a survival mechanism for the last few years…(yes, I know it was crazy but I still held on tight to the hope that some days would actually feel like I was young again), I knew I had to face reality and face it now.
  
The mirror doesn't lie. I used to be able to stand a certain way in a certain light in certain outfits and it made it easy to fool myself that I could hold on to my youth. Those days are gone. My mirror is ever coaxing me into the wise woman years…..trying to convince me that it is good to be in your mid fifties. Although my photos look like a different woman all together…because you see, I can hide things in my photos. I can camouflage myself with makeup. I can use filters and adjust lighting. I can shave 10 or 15 years off easily. A good coat of makeup can hide my weariness very well. In fact, the 24 hour makeup I wear practically erases all of my wrinkles and hides all of my imperfections!

Today, I feel my age. I feel old. I AM OLD! Some days I actually weep over the loss of my youth. The truth is, I could not be the wild and wacky woman I am TODAY without all of the years it took to get here. I am the mother to 4 incredible children and 7 wonderful grandchildren. I have lived all of these years…I’ve won, I’ve failed, I’ve fallen, I’ve gotten back up…I’ve risked…I’ve shown up…I’ve gotten older, and older…and older...and even a little wiser...but yet, I still try to fool myself sometimes into thinking it would be better if only I was 30 again.

I wish I was one of those people I have read about who ease into aging with grace and excitement and enough wisdom to know that this is a very good thing. But I have been mourning and aching and fighting it…and, the worst part of all is that I have indulged in fooling myself into thinking that I would find the “cure” to it if I looked hard enough. So I've hidden behind makeup and hair dye. I've kept myself young artificially and I'm tired of it. It takes so much effort to keep myself up. 

Today I realized that I'm never going to be young again. Those days are gone. I loved them while they were here and I lived each one of them to the fullest but, I'll never get that time back. I am wasting valuable time by not living in TODAY. If I keep chasing the past, I lose TODAY. The thing about fooling yourself about ANYTHING at all is that you miss what is real……and the real stuff, with all of it’s ups and downs….and lately I've had more downs than ups. So today, I choose to enter into the "wise woman" years. The ones where I face my age and embrace it...where I can chose to wear makeup or not...where I can admit I'm tired when I am...where I can let others help me when I need it...where I hang up my superwoman cape and just may even retire it.

So I've written a letter to myself:

Dear Bonnie,

Stop pretending...stop acting like everything is okay. Give yourself the freedom to rest when you need to...to ask for help when you need to...learn to set boundaries...admit when you are weak because when you are weak, He is strong. Stop hiding behind makeup. Be proud of your wrinkles and gray hairs. You have earned them! Through years of caring for others, your body has etched time across your face. Those silvery white hairs are your crowing glory. They are evidence of a life lived with reverence and awe of a Holy God. 

If you continue to push yourself when you're tired...if you want to wear yourself out, suffer a lot and waste a whole lot of time…..keep on fooling yourself and clinging tight to what was in the past. If you want to be happy and get better sooner...get real. CLING TO TODAY….let go of the past. You are 56. You are wonderful. You are just right. PLEASE STOP MISSING OUT ON BEING 56.  

Your body is struggling and even though it might look pretty on the outside, there's a battle raging on the inside. The radiation is doing the work it was designed to do but in the process, it's killing and destroying the DNA of the cancer cells while at the same time, killing and destroying good, healthy cells. When your body feels tired, listen. It's okay to rest. When you take time to rest, you allow your body to recover from treatment. Don't expend unnecessary energy trying to do everything for everybody. This is the time God has set aside for you to be restored. 

No more pretending! From this day forward, you must admit your weaknesses. You must accept help when it is offered. You must be grateful for the prayers of your faithful friends. Allow God to do a mighty work in you during this time. He can use cancer as a tool for shaping and molding you into the perfect you He created you to be. Trust the process and let go of all pretense. It will be hard to remove the masks and let others see your weaknesses, your flaws, your imperfections...but in so doing, you allow your vulnerability to speak to others. You allow them to see that you are a real person just like they are...you are no better and you are no worse...you are just you. 

Don't be so hard on yourself. Learn to forgive yourself for pretending everything is okay. Let down your guard and let Christ fight for you. Remember He is your protector...He is your shield...He is faithful. 

Learn to celebrate the new you, and by the way, you will always be young at heart!
Love, 
Bonnie

I have Fat arms!

Nobody ever told me that not only would I lose both breasts, but I'd also end up with fat arms as a result of the process! Both of my upper arms are almost double their normal size right now. The swelling is a result of the removal of some lymph nodes when I had my double mastectomy done. The doctor, in her wisdom, removed 6 lymph nodes to check for the spread of cancer. Thankfully, cancer had only spread to one of the lymph nodes, but 6 had been removed- 4 in my left arm and 2 in my right. Cancer likes to travel through the body via the lymph system, blood, or by infiltrating tissue or bone.

The lymphatic system is a unique drainage system. It is composed of a network of vessels and small structures called lymph nodes. The lymph vessels convey excess fluid collected from all over the body back into the blood circulation. Along the way, however, these fluids are forced to percolate through the lymph nodes so that they can be filtered. Harmful organisms are trapped and destroyed by the specialized white blood cells, called lymphocytes, that are present in these nodes. Lymphocytes are also added to the lymph that flows out of nodes and back to the bloodstream. When any of the lymph nodes are removed, the perfectly working drainage system malfunctions. The lymphatic fluid has to collect in other areas of the body. Sometimes, through manual lymphatic massage, the fluid can be forced to other working lymph nodes, but the body doesn't automatically send the fluid there on its own. When the fluid collects in the body tissues instead of draining as it normally would, it's called Lymphedema. I have Lymphedema and that, makes my upper arms fat and swollen with lymphatic fluid.

I was sent to a Lymphatic therapist for several sessions of manual lymph massage. The massage helped some and I came home knowing how to perform the massage on myself each morning and each evening. The fluid kept on collecting in my upper arms and around my armpit area causing the top of my arms to become very fluid filled and swollen. Radiation exacerbated the swelling so the manual lymphatic massage is no longer effective.

Two weeks ago, I went to be measured and fitted for compression sleeves. The fitter was very precise in her measurements and ordered sleeves and gauntlets for me. Yesterday, I went to pick them up. The therapist carefully unpackaged each sleeve and helped me get them on correctly. The compression in the sleeves is 20-30 mmHG. They are very snug and difficult to get on. The therapist used rubber gloves with grips on them to help me work the compression sleeves up and over my heavily swollen arms. Once we got them in place, they felt very tight. She explained it would take me a day or two to get used to them but it would be easier if I put them on first thing in the morning since my arms would be less swollen then.

I had picked out patterned sleeves with hummingbirds and flowers all over them. I could have picked a solid nude color, but since I've got to wear these all the time, I might as well have a little fun with them. At first glance, people will think I have tattooed arm sleeves and that's okay. I'm sure I'll get an occasional question now and then too. Maybe I can come up with an interesting way to explain my story to them or maybe I'll just leave them guessing.

My arms feel better inside the compression sleeves and I'm glad there are medical aids like this to help those of us who suffer from Lymphedema. My fat arms look like sausages squished into decorative sleeves, but Lymphedema is no laughing matter! If the swelling isn't controlled, it can be very painful and cause physical limitations. There is no cure for Lymphedema, but hopefully the sleeves will help keep it manageable.

I wore the sleeves for several hours yesterday. Although they were very tight, they seemed to help my range of motion. Last night, when I removed them, I was amazed to see that my arms weren't swollen any longer. The sleeves must have compressed the fluid out of my upper arms and on to where it needed to go.

It took a little work to remove the sleeves by myself, but after getting them off  I decided to take a bath to relax before bed. In the past, I would have run a tub full of very hot water and filled it with lavendar scented bubbles but now I can't do that. I can only take lukewarm baths and I can't use any kind of scented bath products. I can only use Ivory or Dove soap. The Radiation Oncologist told me that scented products would be very drying to my already sensitive skin and that water over 100 degrees would cause painful burning to my already damaged skin. So I did as I was instructed and had my bath with tepid water and gentle skin sparring soap. 

As I went to bed, I was overcome with emotion. I was very frustrated. Not only was my skin burned from radiation, my arms fat and swollen from Lymphedema, and my body hideous looking but now, I was having trouble speaking and swallowing. The radiation to my neck and throat is affecting my voice. I lay in the darkness sobbing and feeling sorry for myself. I wanted to just give up. I was already tired of fighting. My husband leaned over to me and asked what was wrong because he'd heard me sniffling. I explained my feelings to him and he told me I had to keep fighting even though it was hard. I didn't want to...it was too hard to fight. I wanted to take the easy way out and quit! He handed me some tissue and I blew my nose. Phil told me to stop thinking about everything. He said, "just enjoy your book and then go to sleep." Could it be that simple? Could I just stop thinking about how uncomfortable I was and how tired I was of all this cancer drama?

I wiped my nose again as Phil turned over in bed. I flipped on my booklight and began to read. Within a few minutes, I was engrossed in a Stuart Woods book and my thoughts of cancer had faded away. I guess he was right. I just had to learn to turn off those thoughts when they came stampeding into my mind. I guess I needed to hone my skills of diversion...afterall, the battlefield is in my mind most of the time.

Sometime later, I drifted off to sleep. This morning, I found my book on the floor beside the bed. I looked at the clock and it was 5:00 a.m. It was time to get up! I slipped on my compression sleeves and walked into the kitchen. It was time to greet the new day. I still don't want to fight this war, but it was handpicked by God for me to fight, so I will. I do get frustrated. I do get tired. It is painful and discouraging and inconvenient...but I am doing the best I can. My body is weak, my mind plays tricks on me but I'm trying to stand firm. I know this fight isn't over and I have a long way to go yet. Even with my burned and scar riddled chest, my swollen and fat arms, my hoarse and damaged voice, I have to remember I am more than a conqueror. I definitely have some battle wounds and some PTSD but I will come out of this victoriously. Romans 8:37 says, “We are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” To conquer is to be victorious over an adversary. To be "more than a conqueror" means we not only achieve victory, but we are overwhelmingly victorious. I intend overcome cancer by continuing to fight even when I don't feel like it. I know it won't be easy, but I will keep my shield of faith up and my sword drawn. There are no better weapons I can use than these...and so, I fight on.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Guest blogger - my daughter, Laura West

When my mom asked me to be a guest blogger for this post, I was kind of unsure what I was going to write about. I have had somewhat mixed feelings since first hearing from my mom that she had Stage 2 Breast cancer. Upon first hearing those words, I didn't know what to say. I just fell silent and listened as my mom explained what was going on; how she discovered she had cancer or just knew something was wrong. Then when I arrived at the hospital the day of her surgery for the double mastectomy, it still didn't feel real to me.

Even at this moment, it still doesn't feel real to me. I haven't cried about it or even had much to say about it. I am not numb; hear me out. I just don't know what to say. I have no words to really describe my feelings about the whole process. I do know that I am thankful to be here for my mom. Even though I live about an hour and 15 minutes away, I gladly have jumped into my car with my 1 year old in tow to drive that far to take my mom to her appointments and follow up visits. I am a stay-at-home mom so I have lots of time on my hands.

I guess really as I'm typing this it's hitting me. I am holding back the tears because now my mom is going through probably the hardest thing she's ever faced in her life...radiation. She goes 5 days a week to get "zapped," by a big machine. I worry sometimes because not only is it killing the bad cells but it's affecting the good cells in her body. She has to do this for 7 weeks straight. I overheard her telling a friend today that she's done with 10 treatments and only 25 more to go. 25! Wow, that seems like so much! I am concerned for her because I see how tired she is and that her arms are super swollen. And now her skin is becoming red from where the radiation is "baking" her skin.

But even though I see her in this weak state I know she is strong. I wish I had half the strength she has but this whole situation has forced me to fight to be strong for my mom. That's why I think I haven't really said much or really expressed my feelings. I have always kept my feelings inside, perhaps a weakness of mine. But writing this post is some what forcing me to think about my feelings out loud. It's kind of like therapy really.

As I think about everything my mom is going through and has yet to go through I know that in all this, God has a plan and a purpose. He's refining me through this process. He's teaching me to rely upon Him and to not worry. He's strengthening my faith. He's not surprised by all this. He knew even before I was born that one day my mom would go through this and that she would need strength from her middle daughter.

It was His plan for me to be a stay-at-home mom so that I could take my mom to her appointments and be here when she really needed me. I am thankful that God clearly revealed that to my husband almost a year ago. God is at work here people. Don't forget that!  He's still on the throne and He's in control.

I know I may sound like I'm rambling and maybe I am but I am trying to express myself (probably not clearly) but I'm trying. I do know that there's a long road ahead and I will spend every little bit of time that I can with my mom for we are not promised tomorrow. I don't even want to think of losing my mom and so I won't. She's a fighter. She's a survivor. And so am I! I will fight alongside her. I will encourage her to survive.

The tears of a clown

Yesterday was an extremely busy day for me. It was the first day since surgery that my husband and I had actually planned some outings. Although I didn't really feel up to it, I agreed to go because I knew it meant so much to him. The church we'd been a member of for many years was having it's 175th anniversary service and Phil really wanted to attend. I was hesitant about going because we'd have to travel an hour and a half to get to the church, but also, I hadn't seen any of my friends there since I'd had my breasts removed.

I began to get dressed for the service. I couldn't wear one of my "Sunday Go to Meeting" dresses because they were too itchy and scratchy against my bare skin. Since my prostheses were too weighty and cumbersome, I decided to go "flat and fabulous." In order to do that, I had to find something that was a "busy" print that could camouflage my chest. Digging through my closet, I found a nice leopard print, cotton, button down the front shirt, and a pair of black slacks. Surely those would look nice enough for the service and they'd give me something to hide behind.

After I'd gotten my clothes on, it was time for makeup. Before applying anything, I stood in front of the mirror looking at myself. I didn't like what I saw and I began to cry. I didn't cry very long because I knew I had to get ready and didn't want my face to be all swollen and puffy before the service. I pulled out my foundation and began to apply it. Slowly and gently, I massaged the 24 hour skin tone color into my face. As I did so, some of the sadness began to slide away. Next came a peachy colored blush. I definitely needed some color in my cheeks because without it, I was pale as a ghost.  Taking the makeup brush, I began to strike it against my cheekbones depositing a light, healthy shade of color. I looked in the mirror again. "That looks a little better," I said to myself. Next it was time for eye makeup. I wanted my eyes to look as natural as possible, so I chose a sandy brown and a dull pink color for the lids. After applying that, I pulled out my waterproof eye liner and trimmed my eyelids in black. I looked in the mirror again and realized, that makeup, just like the clothes, was going to give me great camouflage to hide my fears and feelings. I painted on waterproof mascara next, knowing I'd be crying again at some point in the day. (I didn't want to look like a raccoon like I always did when I cried without waterproof mascara.) The last thing I did was glide some lipstick across my lips. I stepped back to view the finished artwork. "It will do," I thought to myself.

The drive to the church was a long one. When we arrived, I told Phil I wanted to slip in the back door because I didn't want to be the center of attention. I knew many of my old friends would instantly hover around me asking all their caring questions. I was thankful when we walked through the back door and no one was there to greet us. I slipped into the restroom and took a few deep breaths. I looked in the mirror and saw a beautifully painted clown looking back at me. "On with the show..."

I walked into the sanctuary, and just as I'd thought, friends immediately started coming toward me. They were so happy to see me and were genuinely concerned about my health. I greeted each one politely and tried to answer their questions without going into too much detail. Soon, the organist began to play signaling the start of the service. I was thankful to be able to get into my pew and escape for a while.

The service was very informative as one of the deacons took time to read over highlights from the church's history. There were many things I hadn't realized about the church. It was the first church established in Stone Mountain in the year 1839, burned twice, and was rebuilt twice. Since its beginning, it had been a church that has been Bible based and focused on winning people for Christ. Though it's a small church, it's a loving and caring church that accepts people of all nationalities. After the history, the choir sang, and the preacher preached. Phil and I sat quietly reflecting on how faithful God has been to us through the years.When the service was over, we said our goodbyes and headed to the nursing home to visit my mother. It would be another thirty minute drive.

My arms were already very swollen and painful, I explained to my husband as we pulled into the parking lot of the nursing home. Walking ahead of him in the hallway, tears sliding down my face, I continued on to my mother's room. I had to get myself together. I didn't want her to see me crying. Dabbing at my eyes, I mustered up a big smile to greet her. She was surprised to see us and we had a very pleasant visit. It was one of her good days and she wasn't in a lot of pain. I was thankful for that. We stayed almost 2 hours, then left to visit my son on our way back home.

We arrived at my son's house around 3:30 p.m. I was really feeling tired but I wanted to visit with them. It had been several months since I'd seen my oldest grandsons and my daughter in law. The first part of the visit was spent catching up on events in their lives. I began to feel emotional at not being able to be a part of their lives like I'd been able to do in the past, so I excused myself to the restroom. Behind the closed door, I cried again. Glancing in the mirror, I saw a beautifully painted clown face. The face looking back at me looked happy on the outside, but underneath, there was a deep sadness. I remembered a skit I'd seen many years ago done by Red Skelton as he'd slowly put on a clown's makeup. In the skit, he portrayed a very sad and lonely man being transformed by various shades of color. Slowly, just as I'd done this morning, the sadness began to disappear as each consecutive layer of makeup was applied....but underneath all the grease paint, the sadness remained. That's exactly the way I felt at that moment. They had no idea I'd come into the bathroom to cry. I wasn't in there long enough to give them concern, and as I exited the bathroom, I had my "happy" face on again.

We had a long drive back home, so Phil and I ended the visit around 4:15 p.m. After making a few quick cell phone photos, we waved goodbye and left. In the car, I was so overwhelmed with emotion and pain. My arms were huge by now and were tight against my shirt sleeves. The lymphedema is worse late in the afternoon. I was sad to leave my family but glad to be on the way home where I could finally relax.

A friend of mine, who is also a Breast Cancer survivor, called to tell me she'd written a letter and wanted to read it to me. The letter she'd written was to her cancer. I know that seems strange, but to her it was very cathartic. As she read what she'd written, more tears tumbled down my beautifully made up face. It was a good thing I had on waterproof mascara! Every sentiment she shared in her letter was exactly what I felt in my heart. She was crying on the phone as she read the letter to me and I was crying with her. Phil, the solid rock that he is, just listened and kept on driving. 

Finally home, I changed into more comfortable clothes and then, went in to remove my makeup. Taking a makeup removal wipe, I swiped down one side of my face, removing all of the protective, smiling layer on that side. The mirror gave me a glimpse of both sadness and joy at the same time. One side of my face showed my true colors, and the other side showed what I wanted the world to see...happiness and joy...a huge, painted on smile. After removing all of my makeup, I felt relieved. I didn't have to hide at home. I didn't have to pretend that everything was okay.

I went into the living room and sat down with Phil. When I told him that today had been "too much" he shook his head in agreement. He knew I was exhausted both physically and emotionally. I shouldn't have planned so many things in one day. Before surgery, it wouldn't have been any problem to visit 3,4,5, or more stops in one day. Now, my energy level was at an all time low and my emotional level was at an all time high. Things that never bothered me before became huge and out of proportion now. Why was I so hypersensitive?

Taking the used makeup wipes, I held the layers of "face paint" in my hands. All the colors of joy and happiness lay there mingled with my emotional tears. I wadded them up and tossed them into the trash can. Today, I'd shed many tears. I'd hidden them from everyone except my husband. I'd been a beautiful clown with layers upon layers of makeup to hide behind. I wondered if Red Skelton's character, the clown, was ever truly happy without the makeup. Red Skelton, the person, was an extremely happy, loving person but he could transform into various stage characters with ease. I had learned to do this out of necessity through most of my life. I'd been a pro at hiding my feelings, but since cancer, it seemed I was having to do it more and more often.

I don't like hiding behind my makeup, but I do it to keep others protected from my true feelings. Until I am able to get a grip on this rollercoaster of emotion, I'll continue to apply those waterproof layers. The best thing about those layers, is that I can take them off whenever I choose. I don't have to hide behind them unless I need or want to do it. Makeup and grease paint...they are so similar and both of them hide the tears of a clown. Some days I'll need it and some days I won't, but I'm thankful it's available for the days that I do.

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