One Year Since Cancer Diagnosis

One year ago today I received my cancer diagnosis. What a horrible ride it’s been.

I know I should be grateful. And I am. I am glad I am here today to…commemorate this anniversary. The lump under my arm grew so big so fast that I am truly grateful I was able to get into MD Anderson as quickly as I did.

But my life has irrevocably changed. After the surgery, I feel maimed. My arm is completely numb underneath as well as the surrounding area, still. It may be that way forever. And it doesn’t work like it used to, and to keep motion in that arm I’m supposed to do special exercises, every day, forever.

But because of the lymphedema it’s looking like I may not be able to do much physical activity. MD Anderson was very vague about what to expect, maybe because every body is different. But apparently I can’t do much yet, if ever, or I will have swelling. After the events of this past week I’m beginning to wonder if I ever will be able to bike ride again, or go horse back riding or even do the mundane, yet necessary, scrubbing of the bathroom tile without having swelling afterward?

Then there’s the daily bout with my thought life. Some days are better than others; I can just shrug off morbid thoughts and go on thanking God for what I’ve got. Then other days are not so good. I think about cancer and my death.  I think about what I haven’t accomplished, what I should have accomplished, what I wish I had done. Can I make up for it now? Do I have time? What is it that I should be doing? Can I commit to anything? And on it goes.

Then there’s the, I don’t know, stupidness? - if that’s a word, of it all. Like scrubbing the bathroom clean and getting new shower curtains cause it’s just been too long and they need replacing, yet while I’m at the store trying to decide what to get and hoping the new pains I’m having are from the lymphedema and not cancer, and that my lower back pains that have come on suddenly are just because I’m getting busy with house work again, and not cancer…that I think, if I’m dying, does any of this matter?

What does it matter how clean the house is or how I’ve never finished decorating the bathrooms or our bedroom - if I’m dying?! Then I almost laugh out loud of the sillyness and pointlessness of making the house look good when you think you may die soon. Then I start wondering what is important, really important, in the day to day activities after a cancer diagnosis?

What is normal after cancer? Is it normal to go back to normal? It doesn’t feel like it should be that way. It feels like I better get out my ‘bucket list’ and get busy, because I may not have much longer! But if I spend time/money on ME, then that is selfish and I shouldn’t be like that. Not only am I a Mom, but I am also a Christian – which is supposed to be the epitome of selflessness. So, do I now throw myself into ‘Christian’ works, especially since my youngest is turning 18 this week?

After cancer is scary, and weird and uncertain. And on top of that major life changes and milestones are happening in my family and it’s leaving me confused about what my role is now. I am praying and have been praying for years that God would show me my purpose, but I’ve never gotten a clear answer. I’m assuming my purpose was to finish raising my kids, as nothing else was clear to me.

But I guess that’s where faith comes in. To walk by faith and not by sight, as the bible says. So, as for fretting whether I have done all I’m supposed to do or wondering what is it I’m supposed to be doing now, maybe I should rest easy on Micah 6:8: “…And what does the Lord require of you But to do justly, To love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God?”

Graduation Day

My baby is graduating today.

She’s the one who would leap before she looked, climb anything without fear of danger to reach what caught her eye. Talked to strangers like they were her best friend, touched EVERYTHING at the store, loves every animal – even insects – never wanting them killed, just relocated.

As she grew older she became an advocate for anyone that was mistreated or misunderstood. She is very passionate about her beliefs and always wants people to know the truth. She feels it her duty to inform others who may suffer from a lack of knowledge about certain subjects. If you bring up evolution, you’re on your own.

She has a love for writing but suffers from impatience and self-doubt and maybe a bit of procrastination, just like her mother. She has grown more shy as she as gotten older and as a result has a difficult time making new friends - just like her mother. But once she is your friend, she is very loyal and nobody had better say anything against you, ever.

My baby had to stay in the shadow as her big brother was diagnosed with a serious lifelong illness when he was 14 and she was 11. People would inquire as to how he was doing and he got a lot of attention, but she was never noticed or asked about.

Then Cara started having her own medical problems, but her mother ignored them, not wanting both her children to have medical issues. She had to pass out before her condition was taken seriously, and after a year of medical tests she had her own diagnosis to live with.

Then her mother was diagnosed with cancer two days before her 17^th birthday. She had to take over a lot of responsibilities, including her own senior year of high school, as her mother would spend the next nine months in chemo, surgery and radiation therapy.

She has had to go without and deal with more than most kids her age. Money was scarce since there was always a doctor visit, medical procedure, tests or expensive medicines that must be purchased first. But that is the path God put before her and I can see how it has matured her and molded her compassion toward others who are hurting.

So here’s to you, my baby girl, for holding steady when you felt like quitting, for loving other unfortunate souls, for wanting what’s right instead of what’s popular, for being your own person in a crowd of followers, for teaching yourself your senior year and for crying but not giving up.

Cara - I need you more than you need me, which shows God knew what he was doing when he gave you to me. I am the fortunate one.  Now go and do what God has put on your heart. Cry when you need to, then dry your tears and press on, as you have always done. I love you.