Home For Christmas

When I was little, I thought everyone had a Southern family refuge like Pine Lake. Where we spent a week every Summer, tucked away in a log cabin built by my Granddad, fishing, exploring the creek with cousins, being slung around in the back of his old pickup, and being loved on by all of our Alabama family. 

The Army took my parents out of Alabama to a handful of other States and overseas, finally plopping them down for good in the Midwest. Leavenworth, to be exact. And I've always felt a little sad for my Mom, that she was never able to return to her home to stay. Had they returned while I was still at home, however, I would have attended Auburn University, not Southwest Baptist University. And would never have met that handsome strawberry blond fellow in my Old Testament history class. And had they returned after I left home, my kids would have missed out on years of Grandma Judy watching them each week and all the memories they hold dear from those days. 

I guess it's only fitting that our last big family get together, Thanksgiving 2020, was at Pine Lake. The day after my parents returned home to Leavenworth from that trip, my Dad had a heart attack, underwent surgery, then suffered 2 kinds of strokes during recovery and hasn't returned to their Leavenworth home since. 

This past Spring, my Mom ended up in the hospital, followed by a rehab facility, and finally an assisted living up the road from me, where my Dad now lives as well. I would love to insert here...and they lived happily ever after.  However, their health issues continue to increase as their independence continues to decrease. They've both had a myriad of challenges and my Mom has been in and out of the hospital multiple times. 

"I'm dreaming tonight, of a place I love, even more than I usually do, and although I know it's a long road back, I promise you..." when I hear that old familiar tune this season, tears spring to my eyes, realizing my Mom most likely won't be making another trip down to her home. 

Perusing Target's dollar section the other day, tears again sprung to my eyes (this seems to be a common theme for me this Christmas season) as I looked down and saw a little wooden cabin. While not an exact replica of the one my Granddad built, I knew it could work. I had no sooner put it in my basket, than I saw another little wooden structure shaped like a triangle, complete with red and green paint in the package. And my vision sprang to life. Those two pieces, along with a few decorative pine trees and a little john deere tractor ornament completed the look. 

When my Mom returns to her apartment from her current hospital stay, she'll find her own little piece of heaven on Earth. 

So she can be home for Christmas...if only in her dreams. 

Three Years

To be sung to the tune of the William Tell Overture..."Happy Cancer-versary, Happy Cancer-versary, Happy Cancer-versary, H-A-P-P-Y Cancer-versary!". Why, thank you! So kind of you all to remember. Gifts? You shouldn't have. Oh. You didn't? That's quite alright. I'm sure those stimulus checks were put toward another good use. What is the 3 year Cancer-versary gift anyway? I have no clue. I think it might be white chocolate mochas from Starbucks. Either way, I will be treating myself to one this morning.  

Like many of you in the Facebook world, my memories popping up this time of year are of our awesome family adventures on Spring Breaks past. This time next year, unfortunately, our family won't have any memories pop up for 2021 because we went NOWHERE. I guess I could have documented David and my's trip to the ol' Home Depot the other afternoon. He always tricks me into thinking we're running in for one thing. Then suddenly remembers about 15 things he needs. Every. Stinkin'. Time. 

Please don't take our lack of travels this year as a woe is me complaint, however. Remember, we were that family who cancelled their Paris plans at the last minute then turned around and hopped on a plane to Hawaii instead, just as Covid began shutting down the country around us last March. So we were definitely past due our turn of staying home. 

Pictures of our past Spring Breaks always bring up fun memories with the fam. Funny, how it's always the good memories that come to mind. Never the ones of me getting frustrated with the kids wanting to stay in the condo rather than go exploring and saying in exasperation, "That's it. This is our last family trip together. Next year you guys are staying home!". That's probably for the best. But for me, the pictures from the past three years are also marked by my cancer timeline. 

Take this picture of Tate and me at Universal Studios in March 2018, I remember the laughs, warm temps, my blue nail polish (what in the world possessed me to pick that color?!). And then, upon seeing my loosely braided locks, I automatically remember, "Ohhh yeah. This was pre-diagnosis."

Right before going on this vacation, I'd had my annual mammogram, showing a suspicious area, and had a biopsy scheduled for a few days after we would return home. God was already wrapping His arms around me even then. My worry wart self was able to fully enjoy a week away with the crew. (Minus my aformentioned mini outburst of never taking them anywhere again.) Oh sure, I got on a medical site, or twenty, after everyone went to bed. And even woke up in the middle of the night googling something else related to breast cancer multiple times. But I really was able to relax and rest in the fact that God already knew what my results would be and this hadn't thrown Him for a loop in the least. 

Then, there's this picture of Tate and me at Corpus Christi in 2019 (yes, the girls also accompanied us on on these trips, but their ol' Mom wasn't deemed instagram worthy at that time so there aren't very many pictures of us together. And Tate was still small enough for me to grab and clutch onto until he smiled). This one automatically brings up all the feels from from March '18 to March '19. A whirlwind year of scans, surgeries, chemo, and radiation. Oh, and why in the world did I think I was ready to venture outside my home sans beanie when my hair was still shorter than his?!

Speaking of Tate, much to his chagrin, David made him take Honors Biology this year. His first, and according to him, last honors class. The other day he said, "Hey, we're studying cancer cells right now." "Oh? Did you raise your hand and say, 'My Mom had cancer'? You might have gotten extra credit or something," I suggested. "Uhh, no. But we learned they mutate and stuff," he continued. I waited for him to go on, because I've learned if I start showing genuine interest and asking probing questions, he clams up and disappears just as quickly as the conversation had started. That ornery grin I know all to well began spreading across his face as he said, "So, like, you're a mutant..." 

Hmmppff. See if I take any pictures with him on our next getaway! 

So how are things going with me currently?

Depends on the day you ask me. Most days I would say, "Great! So glad all that's behind me! Thankful God has brought me this far!" But if you catch me on a bad, pity party kinda day, I may say, "Ugghh. I developed lymphedema in my left arm and spent months wrapping it daily in gauze, bandages, and foam. I spent weeks in therapy trying to get the swelling to stay down. (Which wasn't too bad because I had the awesome Janis, who coincidentally adopted one of our foster dogs years ago so I got to catch up with her quite bit.) Alas, my arm and hand are super stubborn (like the rest of me) so I have an appointment in a few weeks with my plastic surgeon to discuss a procedure where he shoots dye up my arm, maps the lymphatics, then puts in little mini shunts to help them drain properly. I did get to bid farewell to Tamoxifen this month and switch it out for Letrozole, a med that has a higher rate of preventing reoccurrence but causes bone pain. Always a pros and cons list with these meds. My baseline bone density scan revealed I have osteopenia so I've started on calcium/vit D tablets the size of actual horse pills. I have an appt in a few weeks to hopefully rule out uterine cancer. My biopsy this Summer for that was benign. So I'm gonna go ahead and declare the same this time around. Wouldn't it be nice if it worked that way? Oh, and my meds cause such tremendous hot flashes/sweats at night that I recently purchased a pet cooling get pad to sleep on."

Whew. Bet you're r-e-a-l-ly hoping you catch me on a good day now. 

Exercise is good for lymphedema, and just good for your body in general in case you weren't aware, so David and I joined a gym in January. We were able to add the kids to our monthly membership for just $10 but they have yet to darken the door. We even promised to stay on the opposite side of the gym while they were there and not to make eye contact or acknowledge them in any way if our paths should happen to cross. Meaning, I would hold my tongue from yelling out, "Good job, Sweetie" while Tate was on the bench press. 

So just David and I go together. Which has actually eased one of my worries. I've always wondered what will happen the day Tate flies the coop. Will David and I just look at each other and say, "Now what?". Or will we shake hands amicably and say, "Well, it's been a pleasure working with you," as we head our separate ways? But we've discovered we kinda do enjoy hanging out with just each other. And have even found things to talk about other than our offspring. 

Letrozole is an itty bitty yellow pill. Which makes me think of the verse in Matthew that if we just had faith the size of a mustard seed, we could move mountains. I'm still working on that one. I think an extra shot in my white mocha might help.

Cancer Journey