I Remember & I Will

Catching fire, with a kiss

I remember the doctor sending this 50-year-old for her first-
& last- ever mammogram.

I will be ever thankful to Dr. Shultz
& The Women's Center for their gentle kindness.

I remember DENIAL & delay.

I will take literal deep breaths each day,
embrace my Dad's lengthy final days & eye-opening breaths,
attend 2 funerals... & grieve,
& finally obey doctor's orders.

I remember my friend accompanying me for tests
& also for the unimaginable & numbing results.

I will need reinforcements!
God.whispers. Chris.accepts. Last-minute:
"Her husband is on that missions trip & she needs you. Call."

I remember my children's reactions to hearing the shattering news.

I will whole-heartedly be there

for my husband & children when they need me,
but first we will face this overwhelming battle.

I remember the staggering, blind & foggy, pre-surgery decisions.

I will learn critical test results post-surgery.
We pray, pray, pray.

I remember the unending WAIT for surgery day, 
& feeling like God left me, & light-headedness,
& moments of unimaginable terror.

I will mentally visit my potential funeral; decompress;
& I will belly-laugh.

I remember asking: "What invited this enemy into my life?"

I will journal... forgive... fight... blog;
The writing outlet is prayerful & at times amusing.

I remember the March 31, 2006 surgery day as if it occurred yesterday,
with all-important friends & family support.

I will think beyond surgery, to living;
that new 2006 Easter outfit, picked out with my daughter, will be fun to wear.

I remember being wheeled across Cox Hospital's lengthy National Avenue overpass for testing.

I will pray for patients crossing that overpass.


I remember the harpoon-sized needle inserted into my all-important sentinel node.

I will embrace family beach vacations, holidays with dogs,
weddings, baby births, dedications...

I remember pre-surgery anesthesia,
groggily praying for the surgeon's skilled hands.

I will feel whole.
(It is a flip-flopped decision, after Susie's vulnerable input.
The "girls" were light years opposite ample Sophia Vergara's, & intolerant allergies screamed: "No!")
Reconstruction is tempting, but because of intolerances, I squelch the idea.

I remember an April Fool's, nightmare, senile, hospital roomie, 

slinging her IV on the other side of the protective curtain,
flinging fluids in the middle of the night.

Nothing will ever top that nightmare night!
(That poor soul should have never been alone).
Release me, immediately, from that Cox psycho ward!

I remember hearing: "Your sentinel node is cancer-free."

I will eat more fruits & veggies...
& here's another April Fool's joke... Undeservedly, I'm still alive!

I remember arriving home to Mom's vase, secretly mailed to my son with $ for roses, 
combined with value-quadrupled, in-town legwork (by my son)
... with my sis-in-law's note: "Mom is with you in spirit."

I will never forgot special kindnesses;
years-departed Mom embraced me in spirit.

I remember, 2 days post-surgery, my husband's strong arm on which to cling,
for sunshine & walking.

I will need Vitamin D from daily walks,
& sublingual vitamin tablets, too.

I remember uncomfortable drainage tubes
& suctioning (seemingly) gallons of gross fluid.

I will listen to my mother-in-law
& other survivors, filtering for potential kindred tips.

I remember gingerly raising my sore arms, for circulation
& praising, days after surgery.

I will enthusiastically greet my long-distance grandsons
despite their shyness; they are timid & prefer a back hug.
Any hint of hug from them is OK! 

I remember thinking that Heaven seemed like an inviting option.

I will send get-well cards to those in need
to keep them grounded to this earth. 

I remember visitors with food gifts, & Aunt Ketra's many cards, & Lerlene's weekly calls,
& written well-wishes & prayers, distracting me from pain... "It takes a village."

I will pray for those in need
that others will help ground them to this earth.

I remember my surprised oncologist's reassuring words: "You chose a double mastectomy?
...with these HR2 Neu-, Estrogen-, Progesterone- positive test results,
that was the best decision of your life!" *

Unfortunately, delay = insurance & assurance chemo;
I will follow doctor's orders, he did allow slight modifications;
I gratefully recall the unconventional input from my hero-husband, for the Double-M! *

I remember entering the frightening oncology ward,
& chemo drips, & superhuman nurses.

I will eat organic scrambled eggs seasoned with turmeric,
ginger is beneficial too,
to reduce inflammation.

The crazed whack-attack result

I remember clumps of hair grossly decorating the shower's floor, & taking control, wildly whacking off my own hair.

I will attend a support group,
for critical wig insight,
add my daughter's styling eye,
& pay top-dollar to keep my spirits lifted.

I remember revolting vomiting & voracious eating.

I will eat healthy avocados & drink green tea,
& later discover dark chocolate, for antioxidants.

I remember reluctantly obeying doctor's orders to take prescription Tamoxifen, for as long as my intolerant body could tolerate, & its unexpected benefits.

I will add spinach to pizza & eggs,
needing that Vitamin K.

I remember celebrating a beachy 6 months, & a thankful 8 months (with my sisters), 
& then 1 year (in Buenos Aires), & then 5 years of cancer-freedom.

I will intentionally celebrate!
...accompanying my husband to the beach, & then on his 2007 missions trip.
...even though I don't feel quite up to it, & what bathing suit will this "Flat Stanley" wear?

I remember feeling kind of pretty again.

I will creatively enhance "Flat Stanley"
wearing feminine attire (an enormous, bright orange purse augments well).
The pendulum swings some days to stinging insecurity, but mainly to outrageous gratitude
with a desire, in a tangible righting (writing) way, to give back.

I still see scars.

Scars remind me that (for unknown reasons)
I got cancer. I then delayed.
For some unidentifiable reason..."I AM"...mercifully drew a red line,
& that line undeservedly spared me.
* Disclaimer: Each person's cancer & decisions (& experiences) are vastly unique.
Well wishes & know this:  There is hope. Tres Bon.

♫The battle is not ours;
We look to God above;
For He will guide us safely through;
& guard us with His love.♫
(Veggie Tales, Esther, 2000)

Click here for musings with minute mention of cancer: Camo is the New Silver
&/OR
I Am an Addict!