Making Me New

              

 

              The night of my “No Mo Chemo” party was a night of many wonderful memories.  By far the best moment of the night was when I pulled up to the house.  The scene of so many of my friends/family standing on the lawn for my support was completely overwhelming.  After how horrendous the previous months had been, I was ready to celebrate, and I could not have hand-picked better people to celebrate with.  The party was wonderful, and I had an amazing time.  It felt so good to feel well again, and it finally seemed like the worst of the darkness had lifted.  Since February I have been consumed with surviving this awful cancer, and I did not think about what survival would entail.  I have since discovered that it is much more difficult than I could have ever imagined.

                Life keeps moving forward, and things have returned to normal.  There seems to be just one small issue, I am not the same person.  This is true for many reasons. One major adjustment is that my life will now consist of labs, CT scans, and colonoscopies…each served with a side of stress and worry that my cancer will make a grand reappearance. I have several scars on my abdomen, and one on my chest, that serve as a constant reminder of the pain I have been through.  My future plans have been erased, and our plans for our family have to be redrawn. My dreams of having at least one more child may not come true, as we will have to wait at least three years before even thinking of having more children.  Even then, it may no longer be an option.  My children and grandchildren will have to undergo colonoscopies at a very young age, because of me.  I will now always be that girl who got colon cancer.   This is my new reality.

                I was diagnosed with cancer. Sometimes Phil and I still sit in shock that this has happened to us, and for small moments, we feel sorry for ourselves. While these feelings may be inevitable, we do not dwell on them. As hard as you may try, you cannot hide from pain or hurt, it will always find you in some way or another. Eventually you just have to understand that it is what it is, or as we tell Jackson “You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit.” We each have to face our own battles in life, some much worse than others.  What I have learned is that these battles strengthen and define us.  While my scars remind me of the pain I endured, they also are a sign strength and endurance.   I can now look at my life in a new way, and be so thankful for each small moment and blessing.  I now fully understand what means to not take things for granted. I may not be the same person that I was before I got cancer, but I like to think that I am a better person because of it. 

                Recently, I went with my best friend Melissa to get my first tattoo.  This was my ‘made it through chemotherapy’ gift to myself.  I had Psalm 119;105 inked onto my right foot. Yes, I meant to put a semi colon between the verses. This was Melissa’s idea to represent colon cancer, and the “semi-colon” that I have left.  This tattoo serves as a constant reminder that while I have to navigate my path on my own, it is much easier if it is lit by God.  My faith has grown stronger and my path has become much brighter over the past several months, but the shadow of cancer will always remain.  As much as I want to pretend like none of this ever happened, I am learning that I will carry this with me for the rest of my life in some way or another.  My life may never be the same, but for now, I am so grateful to be around to see what life will be like on my new path. 

 

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end." Ecclesiastes 3:11

 

 

 

Learning to Walk Again

                August 15^th 2012 will now be another one of those days that I will never forget. It was the day of my scan results.  About one week prior to my scan was when it all began to hit me. I was done with chemotherapy, but I could not celebrate. I needed to see the scan results first.  Everything pointed to the scan being okay, my labs were good, I finished all twelve rounds of chemo, and my first scan was all clear.  However, I could not help my mind from going to that dark place again. What if everything was not okay? I did not think I could bear being hit by that dang bus again. The fear swelled in my stomach, and I tried as hard as I could to put my faith in God and trust Him. This was not an easy task. Every day that went by I would constantly think that I was coming closer to possibly having to re-live this nightmare all over again. What if the news meant that I would not survive this evil called Cancer?

                The day I got the scan was the worst.  Time seemed to stand still at work, and I was beginning to rethink my decision to even get my CT. After all, I was the one who pushed my doctor to do the scan now instead of next year.  I tried to reason with myself that if I waited, I would have that much more time without worry.  Deep down I knew I had to go through with it. I had to make sure everything would be okay, or if something was wrong, it would be better to find out early.  I dreaded the night before knowing the results. I literally came home from work and just sat in bed. I could not handle all of the emotions I was feeling, and the fear became almost overwhelming.  How was I going to get through the night? Wine and friends was how.  Our dearest friends, Melissa and Steve, came over with wine in hand, and we proceeded to eat and drink my worries away. After about three glasses of wine I was feeling pretty good, and at one point forgot about the task at hand. This did not last long, as when they left, all of my fears came rushing back in.  The tears came, and I succumbed to my scattered emotions.

                Before I went to bed that night, Phil played the song “Rest Easy” by Andrew Peterson for me.  These lyrics brought such me such peace and comfort…”You’re smiling like you’re scared to death; you’re out of faith and all out of breath. You’re so afraid you have nowhere left to go. Well, you are not alone; I will always be with you.”  These words reminded me that this was out of my hands, and in God’s.  No matter what the results, we would press on and be thankful.  I then took my beloved Ativan, and slept through the entire night.  The next morning we arrived at the doctor’s office, and within seconds of the doctor entering the room, he spoke the best words I could have asked to hear. “Well, everything looks fine.” I do not really know what we talked about after that. It felt like a bus had hit me again, but this time it was a good bus. You know, the kind made of pillows and rainbows. 

                I cannot really explain my emotions that day. I was happy, sad, afraid, angry, and everything in between. When I should have been celebrating and smiling, I was really taken aback and unsure.  I would keep apologizing to Phil about how I was acting, and then I finally just broke down.  I broke down, like I hadn’t broken down in a long time.  My feelings were all over the place, and I could not let myself believe that I would at least get a break from all of this for a while. I cried because of what I’d been through, I wept for the time I had lost with my family and friends, and I sobbed for those who do not get to receive the news I had gotten.  I was scared that it wasn’t really over, and still unsure about the idea of celebrating.  Then, I calmed down, prayed, and remembered that I cannot predict the future.  We were going to celebrate this achievement, just be thankful for the time being, and let the rest work itself out. I realized that I needed to learn how to “Walk Again” on my own, rid of this terrible disease, at least for the time being.

"But I will sing of your strength, in the morning I will sing of your love; for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble" Psalm 59:16

 

Pick Your Poison

Chemotherapy = Poison.    It is just that simple.  Not only does it (hopefully) kill cancer cells, but it also attacks every dividing cell in your body.  When I first found out my diagnosis of Stage II colon cancer, it was really unclear if I would need chemotherapy.  I was hopeful that they could just take out the cancer, and that would be all there was to it.  Unfortunately, as a Stage II, I fall into a large grey area of what is the “best” thing to do.  All of the research to date is completely unclear if chemo would be beneficial to a Stage II Colon Cancer.  I was faced with the decision of going through six months of chemotherapy, and improving my chance of long-term survival by a measly 1-2%, or just having follow-up care.  Being 28, the decision was already made…I would do whatever it took to improve my chances any way I possibly could.  I would get chemotherapy…the Chemo Nurse would now become the Chemo patient. 

The day I got my port placed (the device in my chest through which the chemotherapy is instilled) was an incredibly long, surreal day.   I was like a deer in the headlights, and it all felt like a dream. Maybe not a dream, but more like a nightmare. The situation became overwhelmingly clear after the port was in my chest, and there was no going back.  I joked with the staff, and put on a “happy” front, but inside I was a bundle of raw emotion.  I have always said that a big part of the battle is attitude, but this day proved exceptionally difficult for me to maintain my composure. 

Nothing really exciting happened during my first day of chemo. I mostly slept through treatment, and then got hooked up to go home.  The main part of my treatment involves taking a chemo pump/ball home with me for 48 hours.  After the first treatment ended, I did not really feel that different, besides the aching port in my chest.  The day after my treatment ended was a different story.  I could barely get out of bed, and my whole body ached.  I would get stomach pains off and on, and only managed make an appearance out of bed one time.  All I could think was “What did I get myself into?”

The next six months involved receiving treatment every other week, which meant feeling awful half of the time. However, if I had to choose a chemotherapy drug, I would choose mine. I would not lose my hair, it was not too nauseating, and the other side effects were minimal. The biggest challenges I had were carrying that pump while having two little ones run around, and fatigue.  Some days it would be all I could do to just make it through the day, and stay awake while doing it.  If I was just receiving chemo, I think things would have been fairly stress free.  However, receiving chemo while working and raising two kids made things much more difficult at times.  On one particular night after working and then going out afterwards, I could barely even make it up the stairs. My legs would literally not work, and they felt like they weighed 100lbs. Phil had to practically carry me into bed; yet another humbling moment to say the least. I found it very difficult to “slow down” or “take it easy” because I didn’t want to miss out on moments of my life, but sometimes the fatigue was just overwhelming.  My other side effects would only include thinning hair, red/peeling palms, and a really awful taste in my mouth for several days.  Despite the side effects I could, thankfully, endure and carry out my daily activities without too much struggle.

Overall, I know that I cannot really complain too much because I see patients going through this every day for years.  They are a big part of my inspiration, and they have taught me so much through this journey. Another big part was God.  It would have been really easy for me to break down and stress out throughout this process, but at the end of the day I hand my worries over to God, and just count my blessings.  I know I am not done with this struggle, and in the next week I will find out if the struggle will continue, or if I will get a break from it.  Whatever happens, I will press on and continue to give thanks to God. My children, family, friends, and loved ones are my life, and that being said, my life is pretty darn good, cancer or not. 



“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life ? ..." Matthew 6:24-34

Take Me Out to the Ball Game!

Laugher is the Best medicine...

            One gift I firmly believe that God had graced me with is humor... and laughter.  I know everyone has this gift to some extent, but I find that it is a larger part of who I am.  I have often pegged myself as being the “shy, but funny one.”  I distinctly remember as a child being yelled at by my parents to stop laughing, which only would make me laugh more. I was not your typical girly girl, as hair, make-up, and nails never really appealed to me.  I still enjoyed dressing up, but it just was not a necessity.  In grade school, me and my best of friends, Melissa and Angela, found joy in wearing matching t-shirts that read “normal is boring.” We were definitely not pegged as normal, but we had so much fun.  We frequently had sleep overs where we would stay up late laughing about poop and watching scary movies, only to then torture the one person who fell asleep first. As a girl who found the word poop and fart funny, and then became a nurse dealing frequently with both, it just seems strangely ironic that I would get colon cancer.

When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I thought I might never get to laugh again. Everything was sad, depressing, and heartbreaking. The world caved in, and I could hardly manage to get myself dressed and out of bed.  It wasn’t until the day of my surgery that I was able to find laughter again, and it was wonderful.  It started in the waiting area, bathroom jokes…always a hit, but it seemed to lift my spirits.  It then followed with a worker yelling at Melissa for bringing coffee into the holding area.  She literally had a look of panic and confusion about the possibility of parting with her coffee AND her beloved Turvis tumbler. I could just read her mind “I want to go with Lauren, but I do not want to part with my Turvis.”  Luckily for her, the , worker just wanted her to pour out her coffee…all was right with the world once more.  Lot of laughter ensued about how I was getting surgery and she was panicking about a cup. Once into the holding area, there were more jokes about the glories anti-anxiety medicine, how awesome I looked in a hospital gown, and the size of my incision.  I remember waking up and joking about the pain medicine and how “great” I felt.  Maybe this cancer thing didn’t have to be ALL bad. 

Recovery was a challenge, but there were moments of laughter.  Phil walking me down the hall holding my Foley bag was quite comical. Sayings such as “Babe, do not drop my pee bag,” and Phil responding about how so "hot" it was to be holding it in the first place.  I can only imagine what Phil was thinking as he was holding that bag…what a guy. Probably the most hysterical part of my recovery involved the surgeon walking into my room with a very serious and stern look on his face, then saying “Did you fart yet?" It was all I could do to mutter an answer and not burst out laughing at the thought of my surgeon using this word in such a serious manner. I literally felt like I was six years old again. I mean seriously, the main topic would be if I was going to “break wind” because that meant things were working again.  Again, Phil was quite the trooper, and would constantly give me grief about the how comical the situation could be.  After I got home, I would often use the term, “but I have cancer” to get Phil to do various things for me.  I try not to abuse the situation, but it is funny to see his face. Really, how do you say “no” to that?  It usually involved a conversation such as this, “Honey Lydia has a poopy diaper, I would love to change it, but ya know this darn cancer...” Then Phil will quietly grumble and do as I ask. J Again, I try not to abuse my power, but after everything I’ve been through I think I deserve to have a little fun. 

One thing I am slowly learning is that while nothing about cancer itself is funny, you can manage to find humor in the toughest of situations.  Laughter is such a wonderful release; it really is one of the best medicines. Some of my favorite memories involve laughing until I cried and it hurt.  Cancer is serious, but I’m not.  I take joy in poking fun at Phil, the kids, and even myself. I try not to take myself too serious, so therefore, I will not let Cancer change that. At the end of the day you just have to try to enjoy the ride no matter where it takes you.

"Very truly I tell you, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. " John 16:19-21

Dear Cancer...

Only one person in ten will be less than 50-years-old when they are diagnosed with colon cancer, and a very small percentage will be less than 30-years-old.  Yet, here I am in my twenties, battling a cancer that usually occurs later in life.  So, Cancer, I have just a few words for you.

Dear Cancer,

                I, to some extent, have known you just about my whole life. In the last seven years, I have cared for hundreds of people affected by you.  I have seen the pain, hurt, fear, guilt, and loss that you have inflicted upon so many. I have seen you transform beautiful people, of all ages, over the course of weeks to years into barely recognizable reflections of what they once were.  You are never welcome, and always painful. The general public uses your name to describe something negative, unwanted, or disliked. For whatever reason, you decided to take up residence in my colon, and I now know you intimately.  Excuse my wording, but F-you cancer.  By definition you are just the result of uncontrolled division of abnormal cells, but you are so much more. You are a curse, a disease, and a killer.

                Before we met, I was a happily married, mother of two, getting ready to begin my life in a new home. You abruptly entered my life, unwanted, and have now changed the course of my life forever. My children will now have to deal with you… I hate you for that.  You, cancer, are unfair.  You take the innocent lives of children, mothers, fathers, grandmothers, grandfathers, wives, husbands, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles…I could go on and on.  I have known so many wonderful people who were taken from this earth because of you. Why? What for? There seems to be no reason to your madness.  Some people fight you and “win”, and others fight you and “loose”.  I am finding out that there is no real choice in the matter. Everyone fights the same fight, and you determine the winners and the losers.  You are not wanted. Ever.

                However, you do not care that you are not welcome, you invite yourself in anyway.  So there is nothing anyone can do, but accept you. I am learning to do just that.  You see, you have not just been a curse, but a blessing. Since we have become acquaintances, I see everything through a new set of eyes.  I have learned not only to believe, but to have faith.  I do not worry about life the way I used to, instead I just pray and hold on for the ride. Also, I have learned to count my blessings in each and every day, and to just be thankful for what I have been given. Not to say that I have become this perfect person since we have met, because there are definitely times when you get the best of me.  You have caused me many breakdowns, tears, pain, and stress.  But, at the end of the day, all of the trials you cause just end up making me a stronger person.

               You see, cancer, you can also be a blessing, a giver of hope and courage, and a sign of strength.  Not only have I seen the hurt you cause, but I have also seen the strength of those who survive.  I have seen the thousands of people coming together with hope and optimism of finding a cure. I have seen miracles happen, and courage and strength formed in the meekest of situations. So while I do hate you, I am going to embrace you. I am going to take the good with the bad, and just keep pressing forward by thanking God for every day I get on this earth.

Sincerely-Lauren

“Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong.” 1 Corinthians 16:

Reflections of Phil's Part-ay



On Saturday we hosted a BBQ to celebrate Phil graduating with his MBA.  For those of you who do not know, this process started months after Jackson was born, and lasted until December of 2011. Phil worked his behind off to achieve this degree, and I was a first-hand witness to the exhaustion he underwent to reach his goal. Many nights he would not only travel to various places for his job, but then would return home and work on homework. He would often do homework until one o'clock in the morning, just to turn around and do the same thing the very next day.  He worked full time, had two babies, and managed to get his MBA. The least we could do was throw him a BBQ.

At first I was stressed about throwing a BBQ at our new house, I wanted everything to be perfect.  Then I came to my senses and realized that as long as our friends and family showed up, we would have a good time. Why should I worry about furniture arrangements, decorations, and fancy food, when the real purpose was to celebrate Phil's achievement?  So instead I focused on fun.  Easy food, easy decor, and easy-going.  Friends and family gathered, the kiddos played outside in the sprinkler, and we felt truly blessed to have so many come and celebrate with us.  We really do have the best people in our lives, and I want to extend a big thank you for all of the support. I can definitely say Phil had a good time :) and I hope everyone else did as well!



Happy Nurses Week!

Smarty Pants Wyds!

"Learning to be the Light"-Newworldson

I can fully relate to this song...it has such a wonderful message

Carrying On….

Every day that I work I see several people facing death.  I then go home and expect people to understand that death can come at any moment, and that we should never take people we love for granted.  I have since learned that to always be aware that you and everyone you love will die is a terrible way to live to. It is impossible to ask someone to live everyday like they were going to die tomorrow.  I don’t want to live like I am dying; I want to live like I am living. And just like I don’t want to live like I am dying, I don’t want to know I am loved because I may die. I want to know I am loved simply because I am loved.  Everyone is going to die, I understand this.  Today, tomorrow, five, ten, forty, eighty years from now, nobody knows when. Therefore, why spend the time you have worrying about it?  Instead, the best advice I can give, is that no matter what you are going through…carry on, because you just don’t know what is waiting for you, and that’s okay, because at the moment you are alive.

There are two major people in my life that have helped me to carry on.  They are my crutches, I can limp along without them, but with them I stand tall.  Before I begin to explain these two wonderful people, I just want to say that I have MANY people who have helped me through this journey and big thank you to every single person.  Support is something I feel I took for granted before, and I have since discovered how grateful I am for everyone in my life who I love so very much. However, there are two people who have been there through thick and thin, and who have seen my good, bad, and ugly days…and they still love me the same. The two wonderful people of whom I speak of are, my husband, Phil, and my very best friend, Melissa.  They each help me, in very different ways, to face whatever may come my way.

Most of you know the story of “Phil and Lauren”, but for those who do not; I will try to create a brief summary. We met our freshman year in high school French class.  We sat right next to each other, and enjoyed ‘flirting’ during class.  One day I cleverly wrote “Lauren was here” on his arm, and at the time, I had no idea the significance that would have in the coming years.  We began dating when we were only fifteen. It appeared to be a short-lived romance when Phil broke up with me a few months late.  I was devastated as he was my first heart break. He finally came to his senses on March 18^th 2000, when he asked me out again, and the rest is history.  We would become St. Dominic’s “cutest couple” (insert “awww!” here).  We both went to Mizzou, and were married July 8, 2006.  Two houses, several jobs, and two kids later we were hit with my cancer diagnosis.  We both thought we loved each other very much before all of this, but our love has been strengthened immensely by something so devastating.  I know this has been so incredibly hard for Phil, but he has remained strong in order to help me when I am weak. He never complains, but instead listens to me when I need him.  He literally can pick me up when I am down.  Also, he makes sure I take care of myself, even when I want to be doing other things. I honestly do not know where I would be without him.  Thank you dear for being so incredibly kind and understanding, and for loving me…I love you so.

The story of “Melissa and Lauren” takes a very different course…obviously.  We have been friends since the summer prior to sixth grade.  We did not start as friends, in fact I refused to wear my new addidas coat to school because Melissa had the same one, you know because I was too cool and all.  Once I came to my senses and realized being ‘cool’ was over-rated, I accepted my inner ‘nerd’, and we joined forces.  After several grade school years of poop jokes, wearing matching shirts, listening to Backstreet Boys, staying up late eating candy and watching scary movies, we went on to high school. We then chased boys, met our future husbands, and had a blast in the mean-time.  It wasn’t until college, after a huge fight, that I think we really realized how much we needed each other.  As cheesy as it sounds she is my yin and I am her yang…we just “get” each other.  There is no one on this earth I can laugh as deeply with than Melissa… because we are hysterical (or at least we think so). There is also no one else I can tell exactly what I am thinking, whether right or wrong, and not be judged for it.  I will never forget the day I had to tell Melissa. Instead of breaking down right then and there, her exact words were “Okay, we got this.” She didn’t say how sad she was, or even cry.  She stayed strong for me…she could see I was getting ready to break down, and she stayed strong, like any great friend would do.  Again, for very different reasons, I do not know where I would be without her. Thank you sweetie for always being there no matter what, for being the greatest friend a girl could as for, and for loving me for who I am…I love you so. 

I have been so incredibly blessed to have these two people in my life, and the reason for sharing these stories is simply to tell of how wonderful they have been.  Taking people for granted is not something I take lightly because, unfortunately I know how fragile life can be. However, I am learning that it is so important to love someone because they are alive, not because they may die.  Phil and Melissa have helped to teach me this valuable lesson.  God only knows how much time we have.  I have learned to lift my worries up to God, and in the meantime to be thankful for each and every day, and all of the blessings that come along with them.  And most importantly, in the most difficult times (with a little from God and my friends) to… Carry On.

“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” Isaiah 46:4

“If you're lost and alone
Or you're sinking like a stone
Carry on
May your past be the sound
Of your feet upon the ground” Fun-Carry On

Dinner with The Ryan's

One thing you will not see at our house is a quiet family dinner.  I am a big fan of having dinner at the table almost every night.  How often do you really get to spend about an hour with your family, and their undivided attention.  While we do not have deep meaningful conversations at our house just yet, the kids thoroughly enjoy talking to their Mommy and Daddy about whatever comes to mind...such as baseball, farting, Dora, Mickey Mouse, and of course what we will be having for dessert.  Also, in between asking each child to take "just one more bite", Phil and I have a small chance to talk about our day.  Laughter is key, because after a long day, some of the funniest material can come out during our family dinners.  Last night it was spaghetti and meatball night, Jackson's favorite.  At the end of the meal, all chaos ensued. Phil scared the kids by yelling at them when they weren't looking, which led to the kids yelling to try and scare him...then meatballs literally started flying.  It was a great time for all, and there is no better sound than the kids laughing (in my opinion) to forget the worries of the day. (Please excuse the horrible sound in the video, apparently my finger was covering the microphone) :)

Lydia vs. Cookie Monster

"Miracle"- Foo Fighters

Another Beautiful Song...

“Everything that we survived
It's gonna be alright
Just lucky we're alive
Got no vision I've been blind
Searching every way you're right here in my sights”

 

 Wyds

 Jack-Jack

Finding Strength Through My Blessings…

“Our new home”... I was beginning to think that Phil and I would never be able to say that phrase.  Last March, we put our first home on the market and prayed that it would sell. After a very long summer of showings and keeping the house spotless, we finally got a buyer.  We were able to sell the house, and moved in with my mom in order to re-build our savings.  In late January, we finally felt ready to start looking at houses.  After looking at just three, we found “The One”. It was a beautiful two-story home with an upgraded kitchen, four bedrooms, deck, and three-car garage.  This house had so many upgrades; more than we could have ever afforded had we built our own house. We were able to negotiate a price and scheduled our inspection. The realtors went back and forth about what to fix, but I wanted to wait until after my colonoscopy to make any final decisions, just in case. However, the buyers wanted a response, so the night before the test we put in an offer we thought we ‘knew’ they would refuse.  Two hours later, we got confirmation that they signed the contract, and we had just bought a house.  The very next morning, I was told I had colon cancer.

                Just take it one day at a time.  I cannot count how many times I have uttered this phrase to my patients during their cancer treatments.  I quickly learned to follow my own advice after surgery. Everyday had its new challenges, and with each passing week, I would become stronger and stronger.  Nothing about recovery was easy for me.  There were so many things to do, and so many places I wanted to go, but all I could manage to do most days was get a shower and lay back on the couch. My energy was gone, and my incision was still new. I was tired all the time, but could not manage to sleep. I couldn’t even nap during the day. When I could sleep, I slept propped up on pillows because laying down caused pain. My mind would race about daily life and, of course, cancer.   Most days when I found myself alone on the couch, I would realize how overwhelmed I felt, and the tears flowed like crazy.  There were still so many unanswered questions, I could hardly eat anything, and my incision served as a constant reminder of the situation.

Two weeks after being home, I went in to see my oncologist, Dr. Sorscher.  After a very lengthy discussion about all of my options, I decided that I would undergo twelve treatments of chemotherapy. This would only increase my chance of disease-free survival by about 2%.  However, I wanted to do everything possible to increase my odds, especially since it was against odds that I had colon cancer in the first place.  So, not only did I have cancer, but now I had to have a port placed and receive chemotherapy…unreal.  I still managed to see the blessings of my situation because the chemotherapy I was to receive would be less toxic than I had originally thought. I would start my treatment in one week, the same week we would close on our house.  That weekend we went to church. I was only able to stand for part of the music, it was a humbling experience.  A new house to pack for, and a family to care for…I felt worthless. Everyone told me this was not true, but the feeling became overwhelming when I could not pick up my own children if they were crying, and when packing just two boxes caused exhaustion.  As a nurse, I am used to being the one caring for other people, and I have never done well letting others do the same for me.  I like to appear strong and able to handle whatever comes my way, and I feel guilty when people do things for me.  Phil helped me to get over these feelings by constantly reminding me that if someone I loved needed help, I would do the same. 

I did not really know how much help we would need until I started chemotherapy.  We closed on the house the day my first treatment ended.  I barely had enough energy to go to the closing, and that Sunday I could manage to pull myself out of bed only for a few hours.  I honestly had no idea how we were going to pack and move in seven days. I was beginning to wonder if we had made a mistake by buying the house… then I turned to prayer and remembered to have Faith.  So many people offered to help in any way they could, so Phil began to kindly ask if they could help on moving day. Much to our surprise, over 20 people showed up, on their day off, just to help us move.  It was amazing. I know we could not have done it without our family and friends.

I will always remember Moving Day.  Not only because of everyone who showed up to help us move, but also because it was the first day I uttered the phrase “Why me?”  I knew I would over-do it that day, I just did not know how much it would affect me.  I managed to make it through the first truck load, and then I hit a wall.  I felt out of breath and tired, so I decided to go lay down in our closet. (Yes, I could actually LAY in our closet, which had just been wonderfully organized by THE Melissa Blake).  I thought I would be able to sleep, but the thoughts of everyone unpacking and working downstairs gave me anxiety.  I felt miserable.  Then, with teary eyes, I walked downstairs just as the second truck load arrived and told Phil I needed to leave.  I NEVER cry in front of people, unless it is a happy occasion, but I just could not hold back the tears.  This was not fair.  It was the day we were moving into our new home, and I had to leave because I was too weak. Melissa came to my rescue, as always, and drove me back to my mom’s house where we watched Friends and forgot about the world for a while.  Once I pulled myself together, we went back to the house.  I was shocked by how much everyone had done…what a blessing.  If I have to face cancer, I could not have asked for a better support system.

One big lesson I have learned through all of this is humility.  It turns out that I cannot do it all, but that is okay.  Phil and I have been so blessed and humbled by the help we have received through all of this, some of which has been from complete strangers.   A card, a meal, a gift, words of encouragement, offering to help with the kids, help us move, thoughts, flowers, prayers…it brings me to tears just thinking of all those who have taken time out of their lives just to help us through all of this.  I have learned first-hand that they do not call it the ‘fight’ against cancer for nothing. While I know this physical and emotional battle will not be over for some time for me, I know that I have become so much stronger through the support that has been given.  I still struggle almost every day with fear, but God has blessed me with such wonderful people to give me the courage to face it.  To everyone who has helped us in ANY way so far…Thank you…so very much. 

 
“Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.” Colossians 3:15

"Chemo Brain" is real I swear!

This is how I feel on a daily basis...

Apologies for my lack of memory and concentration. Although it was bad before, at least now I have an excuse... :)

Our First Child...

Found these awesome pictures of our Basset Hound, Charlie. He was our first "child", and we spoiled him rotten. Do not let his cuteness fool you!

Yes he is wearing a rain coat :)

I believe he slept in this bed maybe twice?

His first love...I named that dog Hoard, but after this we called her howina <3

PS: We weren't really sleeping here

We had lots of time on our hands in college

<3 Him (most of the time)



Easter Slideshow

Hope everyone had a wonderful Easter!

Easter 'Thanksgivings'

               With Easter this coming Sunday, I have been busy preparing Easter baskets and filling eggs with candy from the 'Easter Bunny'.  Yesterday, in the midst of planning our festivity-filled weekend, I was again reminded of our blessings.  I witnessed a young family going through the pain of a cancer diagnosis with a poor prognosis.  Their Easter will probably not be filled with eggs, bunnies, and candy.   I hope everyone who celebrates Easter takes the time to remember what it is all about. Instead of dwelling on all of the activities, family gatherings, filling Easter baskets with toys, maybe take some time to remember to be thankful for all you have in your life, because so many of us have more to be thankful for than we realize. 

*Many Blessings

Everyday life with the Ryan's

Some random memories made:

• Had to put Lydia in time-out today because she cried so much over wanting cheese; which she could not have till she ate her fruit. She literally would not give up on the cheese. Ashamed to admit it, but we caved. When it comes to cheese, she takes after her Daddy!

• Played catch with Jackson on the back porch this evening... it was enjoyable because he would run to get every ball I did not catch (which was just about all of them) :)
 

To end the day Phil and Jackson were in the garage, and Jackson stumbled upon some of the Christmas presents I bought early on sale (which Phil conveniently forgot to put away).  After much inquiry, we were finally able to explain to Jackson that they were just boxes from old toys. Then, we offered him cookies...all was forgotten!

***We in no way claim to be the parents of the year...just sharing :)

 

Undy 5000 - 2012

What a great event! So thankful to my wonderful family and friends who came to the race, and donated to such a wonderful cause. My emotions were high this day as I was able to witness so many blessings first-hand.  Much love to everyone, words cannot express my gratitude for your continued support during this difficult time.

"All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us"

Gungor- Beautiful Things