Off Center Belly Button

Colossians 3:15 ESV - And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body.  And be thankful.

This blog is going to be transparent and real.  There are picture from after surgery and of my scars.  I am putting this as a warning in case you do not wish to see semi naked pictures of me. 

Cancer is an equalizer.  Each person has a different way of coping and each cancer diagnosis requires different treatment and strategies.  It strips your dignity and your peace of mind.  It reduces you to a diagnosis and often isolates you. 

For me cancer has been freeing in some ways.  I lost my sense of modesty about my first pregnancy where I got the pleasure of multiple doctors peering at my girly parts and delivering my firstborn via c-section.  Growing up I played the comparison game and the if only game very well.  If only I had long hair, short hair, curly hair or maybe if I was skinnier or prettier or whatever the current thing was.  As I aged I hate to say that it took me many years to out grow that.  Even now as I have been dealing with my diagnosis I have succumbed to the comparison game.  But I have realized the freedom of not caring what others think and striving to be like Christ rather than the world.

I've struggled with the fact that I currently know two people where the cancer diagnosis has been much more aggressive.  They have faced issues that at this time I may not have to.  I was blessed to be able to have surgery and reconstruction all at the same time.  I didn't have to have chemo or radiation.  My surgeons were amazing and my reconstruction doctor is a perfectionist.  When I agreed to the procedures I told my doctors I just want to be well.  Not perfect.  I've struggled with that long enough. I don't want to be perfect.  It creates a lot of anxiety.  I used to struggle to be that way.  Better than the rest or at least in my mind as perfect as possible.  Hair in place, makeup just right and clothes all matching and cute. 

Don't get me wrong. I'm still competitive and want to be the best I can but not better than someone else.  I want to be the best me. I still want to look good but I don't care as much about whether I have the appropriate number of diamonds when my legs are together or whether my scars are visible.  I have scars.  Many of them.  Ranging from stretch marks to the more recent ones.  I have scars buried deep inside that no one can see.

I wish when I was growing up I had realized sooner that what other people think of me isn't nearly as important as being at peace with myself.  Accepting who and what I am even if that makes me stand out as different.  First and foremost I want to be defined by my heart.  Not what do people see on my outside but what do they see in how I treat others and how I treat them.  I am far from perfect. 

My God is so big.  I was reminded this week that He has blessed me so much.  Even with the hardships I have faced I am still blessed.  He has used each struggle and scar to mold and shape me into who I am.  One of my friends with cancer shared that she was able to tell me things that others don't quite get.  I get that because its really hard to describe how it feels to have spots of numbness in your own body or heaviness and swelling and odd pains and odd fears. 

The newest fear is about taking the preventative medicine.  How bad will the side effects be?  Will it significantly impact my life or will I be able to just keep moving forward. 

So with my surgery I got reconstruction with my own tissue.  This meant they took some fat and relocated it along with the veins that keep it living.  At this time my wounds are healed and the scars are already starting to fade.  So I noticed.  One thing.  A tiny thing when you consider it but still it made me start to worry a bit and then I just looked and decided it didn't really matter. 

My belly button is just slightly off center.  Now granted my breasts aren't perfectly symmetrical yet.  They will change as I continue to heal (at least that's what my doctor says).  But he just missed midline with my belly button.  It looks good but well its not right on center.  And I am okay with that.  I told him that as far as I was concerned I would be his only one and done as he puts it.  I don't need any adjustments.  Now I just need to get back in the gym and get my muscles that are tight loosened up again and strengthen the areas that aren't quite stable yet. 

So if you see me in a bathing suit and you notice my off center belly button just smile and remember that who you are is who God made you to be.  With your scars and your differences you, just be you. 

These pictures are where I was and where I am.  The first is at just 2 weeks post surgery, then 4 weeks and now 6 weeks post surgery. 

My Tribe

Proverbs 27:17 Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another.

Today I am less than 24 hours from being three weeks out of surgery.  On the 14th of January I had a bi-lateral mastectomy with DIEP flap reconstruction.  Last Tuesday I went back to work part time.  I will try not to get too graphic but basically some amazing doctors removed the breast cancer from my body and rebuilt my breasts with my own skin and fat. It was an all day, eight hour surgery, three days in the hospital and then the wearing of drains and restricting garments.  Monday a week ago they removed my drains and belly button stitches.  I'm still wearing binders and special bras and I still have stitches below my breasts and some sticky tape across my abdomen.  My recovery has been good so far and each day I'm a little stronger and a little less exhausted by the end of the day. 

But ... I could not have done this alone.  No way, no how.  My daughter and parents stayed the first few nights at the hospital.  There were others there, my sister who came just to be there.  I honestly don't remember much from the hospital stay except for a lot of cute male nurses.  I don't know why that seemed to implant on my brain but I've had a few hospital stays and that is not the norm.  I'm not sure what I said or did other than one definite bout of vomiting and lots of checking of drains and veins and all the things that go on in a hospital.  It was a generally pleasant hospital stay. 

Once I was home though, had I not had my amazing husband I would not have survived.  He was and still is the best nurse ever.  He lets me do what I can without telling me not to and then tucks me in with kisses and blankets when I've hit my limit.  He helped empty drains and change my clothes and clean more vomit.  He deserves a medal and I honestly couldn't love him more.  He is my rock.

Now to my tribe.  I hear people talk about their "tribe" and I decided I need to share mine.  You see we really can't do life alone.  We need other people.  Trust me - I have tried.  I am a true to the core introvert and I can stay in my room with a good book or movie for extended periods of time.  But I've always known I had a tribe.  My first tribe is my family.  Just like the Native American culture I studied in college what we are born into shapes our first tribe.  Some are good and nurturing and caring and sadly some are not.  I was blessed with the best kind of tribe.  A tribe that believes in a God bigger than us all.  A tribe that I know will pick up and come running if I call. 

I had a boss who told me about a book he read where the author indicated that if you didn't have at least 5 people that you could pick up the phone and call in an emergency situation then you were too isolated.  Even as a hard core introvert, outside of my immediate family I know of so many people I could call for help in an emergency. And I mean any emergency.  There are some I could call for just emotional support, some for physical and some even for financial if it got that dire. 

My tribe is established in faith.  Most if not all of them are believers in God but some have other beliefs and I still count them in my tribe.  I have received cards, notes, gifts and comments from people scattered around the world.  My daughter put out a call to my tribe asking they sent me notes of encouragement.  I have read them all.  Some of these people I don't know but I count them as my tribe. 

Everybody's tribe is different.  Each one of us needs a tribe.  Not just our families because sometimes that just isn't enough.  Sometimes they are too far away.  More than once I've been blessed by a tribe of people who came together over an experience, a loss, an illness or just a sense of needing others.  We need each other.  Kindness and love and just making connections is more urgently needed than ever. 

I can't list all the names of my tribe but they are scattered around the world.  They are fellow believers, fellow warriors, fellow survivors and just fellow humans.  If you find yourself without a tribe then just call out to God.  He will send  you what you need and who you need just at the right time.  Hold on to them.  You may not need them every day.  You may not talk to them every day and there may be days your tribe shifts and changes to meet your current life situation.  That's what a tribe does. 

I want to just share one more thing.  Be intentional.  If you need a tribe then go find them and then be intentional in cultivating the relationship.  Not all in your tribe will be your besties.  They may just be the person beating the drum for a time or the one guarding the gate.  There are different jobs in our tribes and that is okay.  Just remember that if you are in a tribe that makes you a necessary part as well. 

So today I say thanks to my tribe.  Thank you for all you have done and are doing to help me on the road to full recovery.  There was no other cancer and I will take some hormone inhibitors for a few years but otherwise I should make a full recovery.  I couldn't have done it without you.  All of the notes, prayers, thoughts and words of encouragement give me strength to keep plugging away and building back up to full strength.

This is just a glimpse at the things my tribe sent.  Penelope is at the top - a gift from my daughter and she hasn't left my side  She is especially helpful for supporting the arm when the swelling gets irritating.  The next is a precious gift from some of my tribe at work, followed by a box full of cards, notes and letters.  Finally a sweet pillow from my mom who has been there and knew I would need that extra love. 

Shameless plug

This is a shameless plug for my son. He has an amazing opportunity to go to Italy with the school. I am attaching the link if you are interested.

https://www.facebook.com/658851749/posts/10155708264851750/

C is for Courage

For the last few years I have tried to find a word that God would have me embrace for the New Year.  Once I feel led to a word, I start by searching for the definition and then I search for scriptures that speak to that word.

The last three years have been 2016 Change, 2017 Trust and 2018 Humility.  This year I feel like the word God has led me to has all the other words wrapped up in it.  My word for 2019 is Courage.  I find this word a bit daunting.  To me it means being strong.  Right now strength seems very far away from me. 

According to the dictionary courage means a mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear or difficulty.  This year is starting out with a lot of danger, fear and difficulty.  In a mere 7 and half days I will undergo surgery for breast cancer.  I have a feeling I will need all the courage I can muster to face and persevere through whatever may come. 

When I did a concordance search of courage in my Bible app the first verse that popped up was Psalm 27:14 "Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; Wait for the Lord!"  Our courage starts with the heart.  Let your heart take courage.  That feeds the mind and the body.  The second verse was almost the same.  Psalm 31:24 says "Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord!"  Both speak to letting your heart "take" courage as you "wait" on the Lord.  That spoke to me.  See I struggle with control and waiting is always hard.  But it told me that I don't have to have courage on my own.  I don't have to muster up the strength to do it.  I just have to wait for God to give it to me so I can take it.  It's not in my own strength but in His.

The next set of verses that came up and spoke to me were 2 Corinthians 5:6 and 2 Corinthians 5:8. 
They spoke to being of good courage and recognizing that our home is not our body here on earth but with our Lord.  After reading them I went back and read more of the chapter and was immediately drawn to verse 7.  Look at these verses together.  Verse 6 "So we are always of good courage.  We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, 7 for we walk by faith, not by sight. 8 Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord."

WOW!  How cool that right now when my mind and heart are searching for the courage to face this year God chose to remind me of these 2 very important things.

1 - My courage comes from Him.  I don't have to be in control.  He will give me what I need to face the days ahead.  He already knows what will happen and all that I will face.

2 - My home is not in this body.  I'm gonna be honest here.  When you get a serious diagnosis of any kind your mind tends to think about the big what if.  What if I die?  For me that would be okay.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm in no hurry to die.  I'm not depressed or suicidal.  I want to see my babies graduate college, get married, have careers and babies.  But I also know that this body will fail.  I will die sooner or later.  This reminder that courage to be here at home in this body takes walking by faith.  Faith in a God who when we were yet separated from Him by sin sent His only Son to die so we could have a home outside our bodies on earth for eternity with Him.  We just have to Accept, Confess and Believe.  So every day of 2019 I need to take good courage - the kind that comes from walking with God daily and at home here in this body until the time comes where I get to go be at home with the Lord.

Our world has so much ugliness in it that for me it takes a lot of courage some days to keep walking with God.  Daily I have to seek His word and pray just so my mind doesn't get overwhelmed with worry and all the ugliness I see in the news.  Going home to be with God seems much nicer some days. 

So as I start 2019 I am going to take the courage that only my God can offer and persevere and move forward knowing that no matter what comes my way, one day I will be home with Him.  What Joy that will be. 

I did this anagram before I wrote this blog. and did my research and got my husband's opinion on the two anagrams I had put together.  He first told me he doesn't like anagrams and I respect that but then he told me this was the better of the two.  For me sometimes spelling in words what this will mean to me helps me internalize it. 

C = Confront
O = Overcome
U = Understand
R = Resist
A = Advance
G = Grapple
E = Embrace

I will TAKE courage in 2019.  Happy New Year everyone. 

Legacy of Strength

What is strength?  The dictionary says this.

I believe this is a good definition. Strength is something we all want to have.  I have been called strong at many different times in my life.  When I survived losses in life.  When I worked long and hard even when tired.  When I walked through physical pain in a way others might not.  All of these might make it seem as if I was strong but most of the time I don't feel very strong.  I just feel like I have to keep going.  Keep moving, keep putting one foot in front of the other until the darkness fades and I start to see the light again.  

A legacy is defined by the dictionary like this.

My kids probably won't get much from the first but I hope to leave them a legacy of strength.  

I want them to know how to build the strength that keeps you moving.  In my lifetime I have seen many people leave a legacy of strength.  Some fought in wars, some fought illness, some chose not to fight and lived a life full of grace every moment which took great strength. 

In my family tree there is a legacy of strength.  The strength that each generation draws from comes from the same source.  A deep pool of faith.  There were no perfect people or perfect Christians.  We were judgmental and often saw the speck in someone else's eye before we saw the log in our own.  We were flawed and we got angry and we sometimes said the wrong thing or made the wrong choice.  But I believe I can honestly say I learned from my ancestors a legacy of love and faith.  

In our culture today so often we have an ideal of what our legacy should be.  A famous name or a large amount of wealth.  We should be able to leave our children better off than we were.  And that is what I hope to leave my children and all those who I've encountered in this lifetime.  I hope that one day when they think of me they think of the one thing that defined my strength.  I hope and pray they think of Jesus.  

My prayer is that my children and grandchildren will not think of the mistakes I made or the bad choices or the things I got wrong.  I hope that they will just remember that I somehow along the way pointed them to Jesus.  He is my strength and my hope.  

Right now I feel pretty weak.  Un-strong if you will.  The fear of unknowns and what ifs can start to overwhelm me in a hurry if I take my eyes off of the source of my strength.  A cancer diagnoses and the thought of surgery and recovery and the god awful medical bills and time off from work and - you get the picture.  I'm scared.  Scared of what I don't know how to control.  

So I have to refocus my thoughts and keep the relationship that is the most important at a level of intimacy that no one else can understand.  This is my journey and I will choose how to fight and when to sit back and rest.  I have friends who are tired of fighting and some who are just getting started like me.  It's when we lose sight of the moment and look too far forward that we lose our strength.  Because strength is built in the trenches.  In the daily use of the muscles that build them up.  The strength of perseverance comes through persevering. 

Today I'm just admitting my weakness.  I'm just human and I just have hope in the one who knows every single cell in my body.  Even the broken cancer ridden cells.  And I will cling to the hope of knowing He holds my future.  

Corinthians 12:9(ESV) But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

The "C" Word

2 Corinthians 1:4 (ESV) who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

When I was growing up the "C" word to me meant death.  It instilled fear and loss.  If I heard someone say they had the "C" word I just knew they would be dead in no time. I even determined at some point if the "C" word was mentioned in relation to surgery then the surgery would somehow make the "C" word become rampantly out of control and only speed up death.  You see the first people in my life associated with the "C" word all died. 

I was in elementary school when my grandmother was diagnosed with the "C" word - that's cancer for those who were wondering.  She had lung cancer and I honestly don't remember much but that when she died there was a tree in the front yard that had been cut down and had left a smoldering stump.  For some reason I remember someone saying that before it burned all the way out someone else would die.  If my memory is semi correct (my memory sucks most of the time) a great uncle had cancer and passed as well.  I was still in elementary school when my grandfathers were diagnosed with the "C" word and both ultimately passed from it.  Then my aunt was diagnosed and she passed away as well. 

So much loss related to the "C" word.  By the time my mom was diagnosed the first time with breast cancer I was afraid but had known people who managed to beat cancer.  I didn't want to lose my mom to the "C" word and even though they were confident it would be treatable there was still fear involved.  She has now beaten cancer three times.  My sister is also a survivor. 

When I married my husband I acquired some new friends.  One I prayed for often for a variety of struggles.  The biggest being breast cancer.  In the last two or more years she has fought a strong battle against the "C" word. My heart was burdened to pray for her as she fought her own personal demons and the deadly "C" word.  Her fight has been a hard one and she still is fighting today.  She is Greta Painter.  An amazing artist and beautiful soul.  She is a mother, a survivor and a kick ass fighter.  I have admired  her strength and the very first time I got to hug her neck it was all I could do not to sob uncontrollably.  She amazes me. 

Greta Painter - artist

For years I have said that it wasn't a matter of getting cancer, with my family history I figured it was just  a matter of what kind and when.  My first brush with cancer was before my kids were born.  I had my annual check up and the doctor called to say my results were abnormal.  More tests, a biopsy and eventual procedure later took care of the precancerous cervix cells.  A couple of minor procedures with moles that were suspicious and would like lead to cancer came next.  The year after my divorce I had my first breast biopsy.  I was prepared to go to any lengths to make sure I survived to raise my kids.

This month I had my second biopsy in my other breast.  This time I get to fight the "C" word.  The funny thing is I'm not afraid of the cancer.  I had a plan before it ever occurred and I have doctors who are willing to make it happen.  I will have a bilateral mastectomy and reconstruction.  Thankfully the indications are that surgery will be all I need. 

For me the struggle with cancer is my concern for those who have to help me.  I don't do well as the helpee.  I prefer to be the helper.  The financial burdens and the fact that I have to take off from work to actually take care of me.  I have to say that it's almost a relief to finally know which cancer and what my fight will be. 

There are no guarantees in life and every struggle and fight is different.  I pray you will never have to fear the dreaded "C" word but I pray if you do that you have the support of the most important person.  My God knew when and what I would fight.  He set some things in place to make this the perfect time and location for me to fight.  He knew where and when it needed to take place.  I know that beyond anything else He will be right beside me holding me and carrying me through the process. 

I am blessed to have family and friends who are already lifting me in prayer.  We all face struggles and you need a tribe to face them.  Remember to always seek out a solid strong support group.  I wish I could fully understand why one fight seems simpler than another.  I can't comprehend the fight my friend Greta is fighting.  My fight seems very minor compared to the one she is on but I know each of us is unique and God uses every part of our lives to shape us and to allow us to touch others.  I know Greta is touching lives.  Pray with me for all of those fighting and the families who fight with them.

My heart is that as I walk this new journey I will have an even better ability to show compassion to others who walk this way.  I believe God has given me so many different blessed struggles that help me comfort someone else who walks through them. Sometimes the blessing is just being able to learn and share what we learn. 

Proverbs 27:17 "Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another."

Packing Boxes

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, ESV  For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

a time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

a time to seek, and a time to lose;

a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

a time to tear, and a time to sew;

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

a time to love, and a time to hate;

a time for war, and a time for peace.

I have packed so many boxes in my lifetime that I couldn't begin to count them even if I tried.  Each time I have packed a box there has been a myriad of emotions.  They range from excitement to sadness, from enthusiasm to drudgery and a wide range of emotions in between.  

Most of my packing has been from state to state, city to city or home to home.  But I have also had the sad task of packing up boxes of someone who has passed away.  You pack away a lifetime of memories and belongings to be sold or given away or claimed by family.  

Moving is an adventure.  One I've endured so many times that I have to be honest - I am an expert packer.  But it is also a drudgery.  Each move and packing of boxes signifies an ending and a beginning.  It usually requires many boring tasks like wrapping fragile items and going through stuff that you have to decide if you will need or if it can be tossed.  It also brings up old memories and some laughter and tears.  

Right now I am packing up our belongings to put in storage for a year while we decide if we want to build or buy a house.  We are putting some things in storage and some into a new apartment.  I'm kind of excited about the apartment - no grass to mow and less than five minutes to my office.  But the packing part has been a little harder than I was anticipating.  This weekend my sweet baby girl and her - fiance - came to help.  That fiance thing is a challenge in and of itself.  It's a change coming I'm not quite ready for.  I love him but it's hard to watch our kids grow up and move on.  

And that leads to why this packing is harder.  This weekend I packed up my baby boy's belongings to put in storage, without him.  He is at school and this summer he didn't come home.  He did a very responsible thing and held down a job to save money for a trip he wants to take next summer.  It was packing up an ending.  The end of my son being a child.  As I put his stuff in boxes or bagged stuff for his sister to take back for him to go through I realized that he would probably not come home again to stay.  Next time he comes and the times ahead will be passing through times.  Moving from the college phase to the work and on his own phase.  

It's been a hard summer.  As a mom my goal was to help my kids find their place in the world as functioning adults.  In my heart I prayed that they would be God adoring functioning adults.  I see them now and I am beyond proud.  They are both amazing.  Of course they will always be my babies but they don't need me to do the same things for them anymore.  I don't see them as often and I don't get to tuck them in at night.  Now I just do a lot of praying and try to give wise counsel when they call.  

There is a season for everything and packing boxes is just one of those seasons.  The changes are always a challenge and I just keep praying that God will keep showing me how to guide my children as they become strong adults.  Hug your babies.  They just don't stay tiny for long.  It seems like yesterday and then they are big.