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