"Mom, I Need You"

I have a dear friend H. She and I have been through thick and thin and then some over the last 10+ years together. We talk on the telephone quite regularly. Now, H has a little girl, Flower, who is about 3 1/2. Flower has always done things on her own timeframe and is not afraid of expressing her needs vocally.

As an infant.... well she was a little high-maintenance. She didn't walk until she was almost 2, although for no physical reason... I am convinced that she just didn't feel like it yet.

Now, she is very verbal. And she has no problem just walking up to her mom and saying,

"Mom, I need you."

Sometimes it's a snack or a nose-wipe or a movie or her little brother is being a pest...

sometimes it's just because...

Just because at that particular moment life seems to big for her to handle on her own and she just needs her mom....

Climb up on the lap. Get a hug. Suddenly everything is OK again. And life goes on.

This is my mom. Isn't she cute for an old chick?!

Now, I think I got a rather false sense of security when Chemo Round 2 wasn't too bad.

Round 3, however, knocked me down pretty good.

No puking involved, but a good deal of nausea and exhaustion beyond newborn-baby stage.

Treatment was on Monday. By Thursday, I was a mess. I had slept 12 hours, gotten up and taken a shower, and hit the wall. I didn't even get my older kids driven to school. I was standing in my bathroom, crying over my pathetic-ness, when I heard Flower's little voice in my head and just knew I needed my mom.

Suddenly I was 3 years old again, and I knew that if I could just have my mom, somehow I could get through the day and things would be ok again.

So I called my mom. She didn't have any plans that day.

She asked what was up... and I lost it... I just cried. I told her that nothing was up. I was just tired and I didn't feel good and I needed a mom.

She said, "I can do that. I'll be there shortly." No questions, just OK.

So she came up (she's about 45 minutes from me) and got my kids to school... 2 hours late, but oh well..... let me cry and then just spent the day being my mom. She did my dishes... we made some muffins... she mostly made them really... got some laundry folded... and she stayed til my hubby got home... cuz then he could take care of me.

You know....One of the hardest lessons for me to learn through all this has been that it's ok to not be ok. Most of the time I am pretty positive and upbeat.

But I need to give myself permission to occasionally be a mess...

even for no other reason than that I'm tired of being tired...

And it doesn't matter how old you are,

sometimes you just need your mom.

Thanks, Mom. You're Awesome!

I woke up to a much better day.

More Surgery

The collective medical minds surrounding me (and some extra specialists surrounding them...) have decided that I need more surgery to minimize the risk that cancer will come back in the same breast, otherwise known as a local recurrence... Something which I am now at high risk for. This particular enemy that I am fighting seems to be pretty nasty.

So tomorrow morning bright and early I head back to the hospital for a mastectomy. I will be home tomorrow afternoon, surgical drain and narcotic painkillers in tow. I have "Cassie-sitters" lined up for Friday and Saturday. Some lovely church-family members are coming to clean tomorrow while I am gone, so I get to come home to a clean house, and others are bringing dinner through Monday or more if needed.

Through it all, God is good.

Prayers welcome.

Stupid Boobs

I have thought long and hard how to title this post. I think "Stupid Boobs" is as close as I'm going to get right now. Now some of you may think that I am referring to some mentally challenged lame-brain that cut me off in traffic or something, but I am in fact referring to ... well... boobs.

Boobs come in all shapes and sizes. I have always longed for perky D-cups, but we all know that those don't really exist except in SiliconeWorld. What I have ended up with is a gargantuan size... well, H... I think. {I have in fact been up to a J which is repulsive, but I think I am at an H now.} Very nice and jiggly and I can never go anywhere without a bra, including my living room, unless I have a couple layers (like a heavy sweatshirt) on.

Boobs are useful for a time. Mine fed all of my children. My husband certainly enjoys them. I really don't like carrying them around all that much, but my chiropractor appreciates the business they cause him. I regularly have to go have my back and neck adjusted to deal with lugging 12-15 pounds around on my front.

Right now, I HATE MY STUPID BOOBS!

Last Friday, while changing my clothes, I found a lump. Freaked out. Tried to pretend it didn't actually exist. Didn't mention it to anyone.

Saturday, I called the nurse at the clinic about the supposedly-nonexistent-but-annoyingly-still-there lumpy boob; really I was just hoping she could get me in for my annual poke-and-probe a little quicker than the usual 6 weeks it takes to get an appointment. She said, "It really should be evaluated. Come in this morning." Cried. Told my husband.

The very lovely, very thorough Nurse Practitioner I saw validated my stupid non-existent boob lump and sceduled me for a mammogram.

"Great!" I thought. "Hello, Boob Pancake."

The one good thing about mega boobs though is that mammograms are really not heinous. You see, they put your boob on a shelf and then squish it into a nice pancake shape, take a picture, rearrange, re-squish, etc. My boob more than willingly sits on a shelf, and -let's just be honest here- is more flop than full anymore. Pancake... no problem.

Mammogram was Wednesday morning. The radiology tech told me before she started that she would run the pics over to the doc at the hospital (literally, next door) and don't be surprised if he wants an ultrasound. "They almost always want an ultrasound with a lump, so don't freak out." Of course, he wanted an ultrasound. They'll work me in.

Off to the hospital (next door) I go and get an ultrasound. Followed by a needle biopsy of the "worrisome nodule" they found. Surgeon talks to me. Surgeons always give you the results of these things aparently. Results Friday afternoon. {By the way, a "needle biopsy" is way more than it sounds like.}

Thursday,results in early. 4:30 appointment with the surgeon. 4:45 p.m.... Surgeon says, "You definitely have a breast cancer."

I kind of knew already. From the moment I felt the supposedly-non-existent lump... I knew. I felt it. That this was not "nothing" like most lumpy 35-year-old boobs turn out to be. It didn't matter. I still didn't know what to say...

I mean...

What do you say to that? I'm 35, ok almost 36, but still. I have no family history of any kind of cancer. I don't smoke or drink. I breastfed my babes. All that stuff is supposed to protect me, right? Aparently not in my case.

So my friends, and my family, I am in for a fight. When you are my age, breast cancers tend to grow quicker and be more aggressive. We are treating it quickly and aggressively.

I go in for an MRI on Tuesday, surgery to remove the lump and check lymph nodes on Thursday. If lymph nodes are involved and/or if they don't find clear tissue margins when they do the pathology work-ups from the surgery, that means more surgery. After surgery, 6 months of chemo. After chemo, 6 weeks of radiation.

Winston Churchhill gave a speech in June 1940, when Europe was getting totally anhialated by the Germans, that talked about how the fight needed to go on. So that 1000 years from now, people would talk about their fight and say from the midst of their struggle against the enemy came "their finest hour."

This quote is what my wonderful husband told me about last night when I asked what he was feeling. He said the doctors say that 2010 is going to be a sucky year for me, but he thinks it will be my finest hour. How sweet the victory will be. Vanquishment of the enemy in the darkest of times. My enemy is cancer.

Earlier this week, one of my friends who knew what was going on, emailed me to tell me she was praying... and specifically what she was praying. I thought is was so well put and beautiful. These are the prayers I ask for from all of you...

"...peace of mind; assurance that God is in control and will work His best for you; that somewhere deep inside, the joy still lives – lending strength through the fear and uncertainty; that the Great Physician will find that His will is that you be healed of any problem there may be.

I’ve included Tom in my prayer because the husband goes through a whole spectrum of emotions, too. (Even though he may not admit it!)"
{-And please add my sons in here. They now know what's going on... and IT'S. JUST. HARD. }

I know that God has a plan for me. I am glad for that and I accept it. I know that good will come out of this somehow. That being said, I don't have to like it! I hope to get through the coming months with as much grace and joy as I can possibly find. I know you all will be here to help.

Thanks For Today- Gratitude in Hardship

Blogging is an interesting beast to me.

I primarily started doing this on the prompting of my dear friend H.

But there are perks.

I didn't grow up close to my extended family, but thanks to dedicated grandparents on my mom's side we always felt part of the family. Well, time passes. I was one of the older grandkids, and as I got married and had kids, traveling cross country became nigh unto an impossible financial challenge and my younger cousins have gone and grown up without my permission. I remember them being preschoolers and now most of them are married and many have preschoolers of their own. Most of my girl-cousins blog, as well as most of my boy-cousins' wives. So now I am getting to know my extended, extended family... and it is very cool.

My cousin Justin has a lovely wife (I think we've met once...?) who posted the following tidbit. Now I know some of my readers are not LDS (my whole family is) but I thought this was an excellent message regardless of denomonational preference.

Thanks for Today.

Today I am thankful that I can have peace and joy through Christ, even and especially when it seems like the hard times in my life will not let me up for air.

{And thanks Echo for sharing this in the first place}

Good News, but.... Scary?

So, I am excited to announce that I have a job.



I had interviewed 2 different places; this is not the one I planned to take. I don't know why God wants me here, but I am sure that this is where I need to be right now. I was waiting for over an hour before my interview (the Director of Housing was dealing with "a situation"). The Director of Nursing, who did the initial interview, finally came by and got things going.



She started out by saying, "We'd like to hire you." I felt such peace, such confirmation that it was the right thing. She didn't mention that she wanted me for night shift until later. By then it was too late for me to back out; I already had my answer. I try not to argue with God too much; even if I win... well it's usually much more difficult than if I had just listened in the first place, so here we are.

This is a very good thing for our family financially right now. I am entering the health care field which I am excited about (at the bottom of the food chain, of course, but that's OK). It's close to home. It pays well. It's got good benefits and a 401K. I don't have to wear scrubs. The facility is beautiful. The management team seems really great; the head of the facility is actually a good friend of a good friend, which is reassuring. All this is good, but I am still majorly stressed and aprehensive.

What makes me really nervous is that I am going to be working the NOC shift... which means, I put my kids to bed, snuggle with my sweetie a bit, then head off to work, and work 11 p.m. until 7:30 a.m. Then I come home, kiss my kiddos good-bye before school, maybe drive the older ones to school, and then come home, have breakfast, and try to go to sleep til they get home and wake me up.



Now, I know that lots and lots of people work third shift. It's not that I think I'm too good for that or anything; in fact, I offered to work nights. I'm absolutely petrified of failure, and I'm worried that I won't be able to handle this. I LOVE SLEEP! I'm not sure 6 or 7 hours is going to cut it. And what about the weekends? What if I fall asleep in the middle of the shift? (There's a workout room in the lower level and I may go get my blood pumping before my shift and on my lunch break to help me stay awake.)



I have also not been married long enough that I don't care whether or not I sleep with my husband. And frankly, I don't plan to ever become that way. I love snuggling with my hubby. I love that we still sleep tangled and roll over to find each other even in sleep, even if it's just with fingers or toes. I'm going to miss that 5 nights a week.



I'm not sure when I start at this point, but it will be soon, probably within the next week. I know God has a purpose in this new adventure far from my comfort zone. Wish He would clue me in on what it was...

Innocence Lost, Part II and a bit of "Mom"ism

The boy involved in this incident confessed to police last night. Not only did he confess to the incident with one girl, but also "numerous other girls." He is now facing multiple felony counts of sexual assault to a child. He will be 18 very soon; what a way to start your adulthood.

How do our young people become SO LOST that they lose all sense of right and wrong?

I am pretty right-wing conservative. I take some flack for that in the contemporary world, but I make no apologies for it.

I absolutely do not support homosexuality as a birthright, but consider it absolutely A CHOICE. This boy's mother made the choice to become involved with a live-in same-sex partner after being divorced from his father. What kind of example does that set for an adolescent boy... anything goes? How can we possibly expect children to grow up with any sense of appropriate sexual behavior when adults in their lives model deviancy?

I would also guarantee that this boy was exposed to/familiar with pornography. You don't go from A to Z without steps in between... or a "slippery slope," to coin my husbands favorite phrase in regards to all those little gray areas: r-rated movies, TV shows with raunchy humor, magazine covers that idolize that party-girl image... even Disney cartoons are full of inuendo and exceptionally skinny women in skimpy costumes.

I think that as the mother of a teenage boy, I am more conscious of these things than I have ever been. He thinks he needs a girlfriend to fit in. I guess he's a lot like me at that age... which scares me, because I was really messed up, and nobody realized it.

By the way, to all you not-yet moms or young moms...

the 2 curses of your mother's really do work...

1) I hope you have a child just like you...

It works because you find little bits or big bits of yourself in all your kids

&

2) As a kid you say, "I'm never going to do blah-blah-blah like my mom....

but you find her words coming out of your mouth...

and then you slap your hand over your mouth in astonishment and think

I CAN'T BELIEVE I JUST SAID THAT!!!

Innocence Lost

I am so sad, and so angry this morning. I am also exceptionally proud.

We found out this weekend a 13-year-old girl that I know is a victim of a statutory rape and sexual harrassment. Her step-bother inadvertantly discovered the harrassment, and then the rest came out.

I am so,so sad for her... because society told her that her worth was gauged by her ability to be "sexy" ... and she's just a little girl. She has been acting strangely since this happened, very emotional and snippy with people. Now we understand; she is so lost and confused and hurting... and so ashamed.

She. Didn't. Tell. Anyone.

I am angry with her mom, whose views are that of a catty 15-year-old cheerleader... that her daughter got what she wanted, she should just buck-up, get on some birth control, and move on. So what that kids now call her a slut and a whore. Deal with it. Oh, and what's wrong with her sister's boyfriend sneaking in and spending the night; she's 16, and they only got down to their underwear... no big deal.

I am so proud of her dad and her step-mom, who are dealing with this situation with love and compassion to their daughter, and yet still taking the legal steps to protect her. Prosecuting the boy, getting the girl and her sister out of a situation where their mother is not acting in her daughters' best interests. I am proud that they have used the struggles they have faced to do what is right for their daughter. They have a long road ahead of them, but I applaud them every step of the way.

And I pray for them. I pray especially for this girl. That she will realized that she is so loved, by her parents and by God.