Getting Organized

It always makes me giggle when people who aren't from the south (but have chosen to live here with us) talk about Southerners and food. Yes, we like to eat. Yes, we do think food is appropriate for every occasion. It's what we do. I must admit, this will be the first time in my life that I've ever been on the receiving end of this. Even when we had Ian, we told everyone we were fine, and I about starved. So, lesson learned - let's not do that again.

Thanks to a couple sweet friends who are experts at organizing meals and taking care of people, I was able to wrap my mind around what life is going to look like when I can't even lift up my arms for a while after surgery. If you'd like to pitch in, we'd appreciate the assistance. Check out the "How Can I Help?" page and you'll find the details there.

And It Begins

Recovery begins Sept 10th as soon as surgery is over. I go in just before noon, get some blue dye injected in me so the surgeon can more easily locate the sentinel node, then it's on. I'm looking forward to knowing for sure exactly what's in there. It could be as large as 9cm. Hold up a ruler and consider that. Then hold the ruler across your chest. Yea. That's large. So everything that comes out will be tested. And if the cancerous part is indeed larger than 5cm, then I will have radiation. I don't even know what that looks like, but I'm ready. 

Thank you to everyone who has reached out and said "let me know what you need." Now that I have a date, I'll be getting my list and timeline together and posting it under "How Can I Help" on the blog, so expect that section to change substantially. I'll also be updating the calendar in the "Our Schedule" section.

Thank you again and know that we really appreciate all the love support and prayers.

Blessed Beyond Measure

I sat in a waiting room recently and it occurred to me how fortunate we are to live right in the midst of such high quality care. I drove 15 minutes to get to my appointment. Another patient had driven 4 hours. FOUR HOURS. That is the first time I thought about how blessed I am to be right down the road from my choice of talented doctors, surgeons and radiologists. It's easy to lose sight of what is right in front of me sometimes. I can get so caught up in what I think I deserve or what I should posses if only this or that circumstance were different.

I'm tired of playing the what if game. No more. I used to lead worship at church and we would sing:

Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

I've always said that I meant it and this medical challenge is putting me to the test. Do I really believe God knows what is best for me? When something happens to me that outsiders see as tremendously earth-shattering, do I believe that God is still who He says He is? Absolutely YES. He has not moved or changed.

I've been listening to Lauren Daigle's new project non-stop recently and she sings lots of things that keep life in perspective, like track 3, "Trust in You" with lyrics like:

Truth is, You know what tomorrow brings
There’s not a day ahead You have not seen
So, in all things be my life and breath
I want what You want Lord and nothing less

When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move
When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through
When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!

I still don't have a date for surgery yet, but I should have one this week. I have so many friends and family supporting me on this journey - thank you. Continue to pray for Stephen (Woody) and Ian. Ian is just starting to grapple with understanding and he's a very emotionally invested little guy. As soon as I have exact dates, I'll know what I'll need. Thanks for walking with me.

Kidney Quest

The surgeon called me Monday afternoon and said, "I'm sitting here looking at your MRI and we've got a serious problem." I responded by asking "is the cancer worse than we thought?" She said, "Oh, no. Everything I can see here on your MRI looks great as far as that is concerned, but there is a note here that says there is no right kidney. Have you had your right kidney removed?" "Uh, Not that I know of..."

She went on to explain that the MRI only catches the top part and that it could be sitting lower, I could have been positioned at a strange angle, who knows...but there was no right kidney and she wanted me to go for another ultrasound - that makes 4 now - to locate my right kidney. So they scheduled it today, on my birthday, and I joked about going on a quest to find my missing kidney.

I thought I'd walk in for 10 minutes and the ultrasound tech would find it immediately and say "oh yeah, it's right here." But why would it be that simple? After 30 minutes of looking, she switched to my left side and immediately found my left kidney. The radiologist looked at it and said I have an enlarged left kidney and ultrasound detected no kidney on the right side.

What? Are you kidding me? Have I been walking around my whole life with one kidney? How would you even know that if you've never had issues? When I had a kidney infection 10 years ago, is that why it only hurt on the left side? So the saga of my strange earth suit continues...

Perhaps I will have to do more procedures and imaging to try to locate my missing kidney. Perhaps I really do only have one. Either way, I think it is hysterical and I now have more material for my stand up comedy routine.

Knowing What You Know

I want to start this by saying God is good. I know this. I know I am taken care of in ways I don't even see.

I woke up one morning several months ago and a tiny voice said, "go see your doctor - something's wrong." It took a few weeks, but I called and made an appointment and moved on. In the meantime, a dear friend from work was diagnosed with something called invasive lobular carcinoma, a not so common form of breast cancer, especially in those of us under 60. As she was walking through her journey, I went to my appointment and my doctor sent me for further testing. Wednesday, August 5th, the radiologist shared the results - you have invasive lobular carcinoma. Well, good news - I already know what that is!

If you know me well, you know this isn't a huge big deal to me - just a tad inconvenient. I'm more concerned about the people around me - that probably includes you if you are reading this. So here's the deal- I promise I'll fight and do my best. I promise when I need prayer or hugs- I'll tell you. It's ok to ask me questions, but please don't be sad and tragic. This is just life. This is part of God's plan for me, and His plan is PERFECT. 

I don't know exactly what is ahead yet. I've had a biopsy, an MRI, another biopsy and a meeting with a surgeon and radiologist. Once I have firm dates and figure out what that means, I'll post here along with ways you can help out our family. I appreciate your love and support - especially for Steve (Woody for most of you) and Ian.