Shawn and his friends have decided it probably came from line noise. We don't have a phone line but do have DSL and if the line got hit and there was a surge then it might have made the phone ring. The first time Shawn was home and it interupted his Internet so that fits there.
I'm stuborn. I still think God used "line noise" to get to me today. Regardless I have disconnected that phone from the wall so if it happens again I know it isn't line noise. I don't expect it to happen again because I think it had a purpose.
If it was line noise it is still odd that the phone had the ringer turned off and still rang like that....
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Whoa. A phone call from God?
I have posted about this on a couple of sites I feel comfortable at but I still think they'll all read it and think I'm nuts. I don't care because I know I'm not.
I'm still awaiting my pathology reports but today for the first time I was able to clear my head and focus on preparing the lesson for the Sunday school class I have began teaching (started last week--didn't go so hot). I have been fasting for a while after reading a book about the power of it. I thought "hey, can't hurt". Right?
We do not have a home phone line. We have a cell phone. We had our home phone disconnected around 2 years ago because we are very broke financially. Anyway, I was sitting on the bed going over tomorrow's lesson on Adam and Eve and choices. I had already wondered if I should quit teaching because I'm in an unknown place with my health. I felt insecure but sucked it up and tried to have it stick to me (it's difficult for me to remember things thanks to chemo ruining my short-term-memory).
O.k., we have a phone in our bathroom and our bathroom is very close to the bedroom as our house is small. This phone only halfway worked when we did have a land line. It was here when we moved in. It belonged to the lady who lived here before us.
As I live and breathe the thing started to ring.
I have thought unti like the past hour that I've lost it. It rang and I don't mean a flippant 1 tone ring that could have been my ears. It rang 5 times before I realized Shawn hadn't changed his ring tone and it wasn't my kid's toy.
I picked it up.
Silence.
I hung it up, gulped, and said "ah well it's the weather--maybe an earthquake."
Then I went back to the bed to study and AGAIN
Six times this time. I had tried to get to my cell to call Shawn and have him hear it but when I thought "I'm losing it" it quit ringing which really had me convinced I had in fact lost it.
I went into the den to post on the sites I mentioned above and thought "if it did it again I KNOW I am not nuts."
Soooo....
It rang AGAIN. Three times!
O.k., freaking out. I laughingly called Shawn who had taken the kids to a birthday party and we said yeah it was a ghost. I called our old number and it said "this number has been disconnected or is no longer in service."
On one of the sites someone asked me "do you know any verses of the bible that are significant that have 5-6-3 in them?" I hadn't thought of the bible though I did go back to finish what I was doing after posting. I looked up 5:63 and none of the bible books go that high.
I thought it served me right for being so arrogant to think God would speak to me like that and almost let it pass. I wanted to be sure I hadn't missed anything so I googled 5:63 and 2 different books have a 63:5---Psalm and Isaiah
I'll start with Psalm because it was the first I saw.
A psalm of David, when he was in the wilderness of Judah. 2 O God, you are my God-- for you I long! For you my body yearns; for you my soul thirsts, Like a land parched, lifeless, and without water. 3 So I look to you in the sanctuary to see your power and glory. 4 2 For your love is better than life; my lips offer you worship! 5 I will bless you as long as I live; I will lift up my hands, calling on your name. 6 My soul shall savor the rich banquet of praise, with joyous lips my mouth shall honor you! 7 When I think of you upon my bed, through the night watches I will recall 8 That you indeed are my help, and in the shadow of your wings I shout for joy. 9 My soul clings fast to you; your right hand upholds me. 10 But those who seek my life will come to ruin; they shall go down to the depths of the earth! 11 They shall be handed over to the sword and become the prey of jackals! 12 3 But the king shall rejoice in God; all who swear by the Lord shall exult, for the mouths of liars will be shut!
O.k., I have been on my first true fast so I bolded the part about soul thirsting. "Calling" on your name--it was 3 seperate phone calls for pete's sake! "When I think of you upon my bed"--where was I 2 of the 3 times it happened? On my bed studying for tomorrow's lesson!
I'm not including all of Isaiah 63 because it is huge and verse 5 is enough to have answered one of my questions
I looked, and there was (A)no one to help,And I was astonished and there was no one to uphold;So My (B)own arm brought salvation to Me,And My wrath upheld Me
Earlier in the day it had crossed my mind not to teach because of all the things going on and being insecure and then I saw this. In context and even here really it's easy to see what it is about. The heading of my bible says "God's day of vengence and redemption" and it is told from what I at least saw as his point of view.
Now I'm wondering about it all and what it means. I do believe I should stick with teaching the kids. Still in my head I am saying this didn't really happen but God answered another prayer I've had lately. I have wanted to have his prescence closer and to sense him more in the tangible things.
How tangible is a phone call from a phone that has no service and hasn't worked in four years? Not just once that I might have ignored but three times? Not just three flippant rings but rings of a certain length that lead me to the bible to find this?
Maybe I heard nothing and am losing it. Maybe it was the result of an earthquake or the leftovers of Hurricane What'shisname on the way and they were working on the power (I live 600+ miles from Galveston but we are still expected to have rain and possible storms)? Maybe it was the ghost of the lady who owned the phone (lol). All this went through my head until I took seriously looking into the bible.
I have been saved since I was 13 but didn't get off my keester and try to grow until this past year. Already I have had a very spiritual experience that proved to me God was here and now this. I can't argue with a phone call that kept on--3 times in a 30 minute period. It was very much that phone's ring and not my ears.
My favorite song for well over a year has been Casting Crowns' "The Word is Alive". That's the song I had in my head during my masectomy last Feb. Anyway, the words don't feel as distant to me any more. It really IS alive in the lives of everyone. Getting saved isn't all there is. Testimony grows with every passing day even though it's so easy not to see it a lot of times.
Now I look at the paper that shows where all the polyps are in my GI tract, still scared, still not wanting it to be cancer because I know if it is that's probably it for my life but I feel safe no matter what. It's so weird.
I was 13 when I was saved.
I'm 31 now.
Too many wasted years in there.
I'm still awaiting my pathology reports but today for the first time I was able to clear my head and focus on preparing the lesson for the Sunday school class I have began teaching (started last week--didn't go so hot). I have been fasting for a while after reading a book about the power of it. I thought "hey, can't hurt". Right?
We do not have a home phone line. We have a cell phone. We had our home phone disconnected around 2 years ago because we are very broke financially. Anyway, I was sitting on the bed going over tomorrow's lesson on Adam and Eve and choices. I had already wondered if I should quit teaching because I'm in an unknown place with my health. I felt insecure but sucked it up and tried to have it stick to me (it's difficult for me to remember things thanks to chemo ruining my short-term-memory).
O.k., we have a phone in our bathroom and our bathroom is very close to the bedroom as our house is small. This phone only halfway worked when we did have a land line. It was here when we moved in. It belonged to the lady who lived here before us.
As I live and breathe the thing started to ring.
I have thought unti like the past hour that I've lost it. It rang and I don't mean a flippant 1 tone ring that could have been my ears. It rang 5 times before I realized Shawn hadn't changed his ring tone and it wasn't my kid's toy.
I picked it up.
Silence.
I hung it up, gulped, and said "ah well it's the weather--maybe an earthquake."
Then I went back to the bed to study and AGAIN
Six times this time. I had tried to get to my cell to call Shawn and have him hear it but when I thought "I'm losing it" it quit ringing which really had me convinced I had in fact lost it.
I went into the den to post on the sites I mentioned above and thought "if it did it again I KNOW I am not nuts."
Soooo....
It rang AGAIN. Three times!
O.k., freaking out. I laughingly called Shawn who had taken the kids to a birthday party and we said yeah it was a ghost. I called our old number and it said "this number has been disconnected or is no longer in service."
On one of the sites someone asked me "do you know any verses of the bible that are significant that have 5-6-3 in them?" I hadn't thought of the bible though I did go back to finish what I was doing after posting. I looked up 5:63 and none of the bible books go that high.
I thought it served me right for being so arrogant to think God would speak to me like that and almost let it pass. I wanted to be sure I hadn't missed anything so I googled 5:63 and 2 different books have a 63:5---Psalm and Isaiah
I'll start with Psalm because it was the first I saw.
A psalm of David, when he was in the wilderness of Judah. 2 O God, you are my God-- for you I long! For you my body yearns; for you my soul thirsts, Like a land parched, lifeless, and without water. 3 So I look to you in the sanctuary to see your power and glory. 4 2 For your love is better than life; my lips offer you worship! 5 I will bless you as long as I live; I will lift up my hands, calling on your name. 6 My soul shall savor the rich banquet of praise, with joyous lips my mouth shall honor you! 7 When I think of you upon my bed, through the night watches I will recall 8 That you indeed are my help, and in the shadow of your wings I shout for joy. 9 My soul clings fast to you; your right hand upholds me. 10 But those who seek my life will come to ruin; they shall go down to the depths of the earth! 11 They shall be handed over to the sword and become the prey of jackals! 12 3 But the king shall rejoice in God; all who swear by the Lord shall exult, for the mouths of liars will be shut!
O.k., I have been on my first true fast so I bolded the part about soul thirsting. "Calling" on your name--it was 3 seperate phone calls for pete's sake! "When I think of you upon my bed"--where was I 2 of the 3 times it happened? On my bed studying for tomorrow's lesson!
I'm not including all of Isaiah 63 because it is huge and verse 5 is enough to have answered one of my questions
I looked, and there was (A)no one to help,And I was astonished and there was no one to uphold;So My (B)own arm brought salvation to Me,And My wrath upheld Me
Earlier in the day it had crossed my mind not to teach because of all the things going on and being insecure and then I saw this. In context and even here really it's easy to see what it is about. The heading of my bible says "God's day of vengence and redemption" and it is told from what I at least saw as his point of view.
Now I'm wondering about it all and what it means. I do believe I should stick with teaching the kids. Still in my head I am saying this didn't really happen but God answered another prayer I've had lately. I have wanted to have his prescence closer and to sense him more in the tangible things.
How tangible is a phone call from a phone that has no service and hasn't worked in four years? Not just once that I might have ignored but three times? Not just three flippant rings but rings of a certain length that lead me to the bible to find this?
Maybe I heard nothing and am losing it. Maybe it was the result of an earthquake or the leftovers of Hurricane What'shisname on the way and they were working on the power (I live 600+ miles from Galveston but we are still expected to have rain and possible storms)? Maybe it was the ghost of the lady who owned the phone (lol). All this went through my head until I took seriously looking into the bible.
I have been saved since I was 13 but didn't get off my keester and try to grow until this past year. Already I have had a very spiritual experience that proved to me God was here and now this. I can't argue with a phone call that kept on--3 times in a 30 minute period. It was very much that phone's ring and not my ears.
My favorite song for well over a year has been Casting Crowns' "The Word is Alive". That's the song I had in my head during my masectomy last Feb. Anyway, the words don't feel as distant to me any more. It really IS alive in the lives of everyone. Getting saved isn't all there is. Testimony grows with every passing day even though it's so easy not to see it a lot of times.
Now I look at the paper that shows where all the polyps are in my GI tract, still scared, still not wanting it to be cancer because I know if it is that's probably it for my life but I feel safe no matter what. It's so weird.
I was 13 when I was saved.
I'm 31 now.
Too many wasted years in there.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Still no results
It has been a week since I had the colonoscopy/endoscopy/upper GI. Still no results. Dare I hope I get something in the mail that says "nonadenomous benign polyps" for all of them? I can pray.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
It's been a while...
Not been so hot. Finally had the GI tract testing done. We were afraid I wasn't cleaned out enough because I kept throwing up the prep. Technically I wasn't but it worked. He saw polyps. Lots of them from my stomach on down to my rectum. Centering in the sigmoid section which is where the hyperactivity showed on the PET scan back in 2006. I had a sigmoidoscopy done then that showed nothing abnormal so apparently whatever this is was microscopic at that point. Not so much any more.
I'm angry. I'm angry at myself for being angry because who am I to expect more out of life? Who am I to not live what I have and be completely happy with it? I've lost people dear to me long before they were 31 years old. There's a chance this is benign stuff. If it isn't I'll share the same fate as my paternal grandfather who I inherited the condition from and never even met. My kids will grow up with either no memory of me or very vague memories of me being sick---NOT what I want.
I see all kinds of petty stuff going on. Petty things people think and worry about and it pisses me off. It's usually the petty people who tell me not to sweat the small stuff. The petty people who say "well if I had cancer before I wouldn't smoke/lay in the tanning bed/fill-in-the-blank-etc either". What makes them feel so gosh darn entitled? That's what I want to know. Why am I stuck spending much of my life as a guinea pig staring at hospital ceilings waiting to have needles stuck in me or like yesterday--scopes shoved up both ends.
I was awake yesterday. Brutally so. Due to my anti-anxiety meds I wasn't knocked out even close to where I should have been but legally they couldn't give me more. Soooo, next time my colonsocopy/endoscopy will be an operating room procedure.
I'm scared. I don't want to have my colon removed and have a bag for poop. I don't want to die. I'm mad that I probably gave this to my kids and people are out there worrying over the simplest things.
I just want to scream at them to wake the hell up but it wouldn't do any good. If I could go back to when I was 16 and tell myself "you'll be ok until you are 30" I would make different decisions IF I knew then what I know now.
Youth AND health is wasted on the young.
Tomorrow was supposed to be my first day teaching Sunday school and now due to damage to my throat from the EGD tube, pain from polyp removal, and continued diarrhea from Thursday's laxative I can't even do that much.
I feel like a lump of a lump of a lump of a lump of a lump of a lump
I'm angry. I'm angry at myself for being angry because who am I to expect more out of life? Who am I to not live what I have and be completely happy with it? I've lost people dear to me long before they were 31 years old. There's a chance this is benign stuff. If it isn't I'll share the same fate as my paternal grandfather who I inherited the condition from and never even met. My kids will grow up with either no memory of me or very vague memories of me being sick---NOT what I want.
I see all kinds of petty stuff going on. Petty things people think and worry about and it pisses me off. It's usually the petty people who tell me not to sweat the small stuff. The petty people who say "well if I had cancer before I wouldn't smoke/lay in the tanning bed/fill-in-the-blank-etc either". What makes them feel so gosh darn entitled? That's what I want to know. Why am I stuck spending much of my life as a guinea pig staring at hospital ceilings waiting to have needles stuck in me or like yesterday--scopes shoved up both ends.
I was awake yesterday. Brutally so. Due to my anti-anxiety meds I wasn't knocked out even close to where I should have been but legally they couldn't give me more. Soooo, next time my colonsocopy/endoscopy will be an operating room procedure.
I'm scared. I don't want to have my colon removed and have a bag for poop. I don't want to die. I'm mad that I probably gave this to my kids and people are out there worrying over the simplest things.
I just want to scream at them to wake the hell up but it wouldn't do any good. If I could go back to when I was 16 and tell myself "you'll be ok until you are 30" I would make different decisions IF I knew then what I know now.
Youth AND health is wasted on the young.
Tomorrow was supposed to be my first day teaching Sunday school and now due to damage to my throat from the EGD tube, pain from polyp removal, and continued diarrhea from Thursday's laxative I can't even do that much.
I feel like a lump of a lump of a lump of a lump of a lump of a lump
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
See July--continuation from beginning to get to here
I don't remember when we first went to St. Jude in Memphis. I just know that my mom's mood was dark and I was very confused because she insisted I was going to be just fine. I wondered about school and how I would catch up but it wasn't the first thing on my mind. When the doctor said I would need an operation as a biopsy surgery to where they found the original tumor, I grew angry. My dad asked "Couldn't she wait a while she's not even over the other." My mom and the doctor both said that if I had metastatic disease then it would be best to know it then to start treatment. I asked if I would be able to try out for pee-wee cheerleading which started in the 4th grade and was told absolutely not. This was the most heartbreaking news of all for me, I think. I didn't catch how serious what I had been going through was.
Halloween 1986 came and went. I was a clown that year and we have a picture of me attempting to smile but it wasn't easy. I knew I would have surgery again in a few days and wasn't looking forward to it. I had a habit of swallowing gum when I was 9. After my surgery my dad joked that the doctor couldn't get in due to my insides being stuck together. It was a lie. He did get in.
Back in 1986, St Jude hospital used St. Joseph's OR and there was a tunnel that connected them. I remember being pushed back and hurting very, very badly. The orderly wouldn't slow down though. He knew I needed to get to the room and that be it.
I don't remember a lot until the phone call when mom was told it looked like the cancer hadn't spread. Also I remember being asked to get up and walk around. Oh how I hated it. I moaned and groaned. Until I saw a little 5 year old practically racing around the nurse's desk not moaning at all.
I couldn't let someone a little more than half my age outdo me. Of course I didn't realize he had a brain operation and it wasn't going to hurt him as much to walk as it did me because my abdomen had been cut. This time the doctors tried to leave my belly button but the first surgery had mutilated it. I had a huge gash on my stomach and the wound was still yellow in part due to the betadine bath in the St Jude bath tub the night before and the betadine from surgery. It was U-G-L-Y.
I remembered back to the one before when my mom and the doctor discussed scars and keeping it where I would be able to wear whatever I wanted. Yeah, well, those days were over because 6 years later I would have surgery in the same spot with a much longer incision and it became a glaring scar that everyone could see. My mom and I fought when I was 16 because I still wanted to wear a two piece bathing suit and she thought I wouldn't want to be asked about my scars. I won the fight. I don't remember being asked about it specifically until I went to a different school in the 10th grade and showed it to prove I had went through ovarian cancer. No one believed me but they would a few months later. This all comes later.
I remember a nurse bribing me to eat a grilled cheese sandwich by saying I couldn't go home the next day if I didn't eat it. I cried and I cried. I wanted home from St Jude hospital. I already knew I would feel better when I got there--something that always held true so I choked the sandwich down in between tears. I got to go home. I thought things were going to be normal in a couple of weeks when allowed back in school.
Things couldn't have been much more abnormal.
First of all, I learned of having cancer from my best friend who had learned from my reading teacher telling our class. As a 9 year old I knew nothing about cancer and neither did any of them. When I came back to school, there was a lot of odd feeling. I was allowed to leave to my locker early so no one would bump into my stomach with their books so that may have bred some resentment. I was given more attention from the teachers than I had been. My then best friend said she wished she had a tumor and I told her she didn't know what she was talking about and that she could have mine. Special attention or not I knew it sucked.
Going back to school at this time cooincided with me crawling into a shyness shell I still remain in to this day. From the 4th grade on, I was labelled "Most Bashful" in our "Who's who?" I hadn't been the shy kid before. As a matter of fact, I had been almost bossy but after rejection upon returning to school I was afraid to speak to anyone. There were times kids would cross the hall from me because they honestly thought I was contagious.
Between 1986 and 1992, I returned to St Jude hospital for ultrasounds, ct scans, etc each 3 month, 6 month, and finally one year block. It was on my first one year block that things came unraveled. During this period, I had went through bilateral breast biopsies twice that showed cysts but nothing indicating cancer. Until that very first yearly checkup when my BP was twice what it should have been and my bad mood, going to bed at 4 p.m., and general uneasiness found its cause.
It was about 3 months into a new school year at a new school. I had transferred because I wanted to force myself to not be so shy and to have more friends. It wasn't happening at the larger school I attended so by freedom of choice I went to a small school that no longer exists. Even there I would be teased but the difference is that they worked closely with me and I would graduate with my class in 1995 like I was supposed to but that comes later.
Looking back on that period, I see myself in the two week wait before my laparoscopy to find what was blocking my kidney and causing my blood pressure to rise. I would ask to be excused to the restroom, pull my legs up in the stall where no one knew I was in there, and take my blood pressure. I had been given procardia to take when it got past a certain level and I had to watch it closely. I was ashamed of this and embarassed but each time I tested it was high enough for medication. This went on for two weeks because the doctors thought my blockage was a lymph node.
It wasn't.
Halloween 1986 came and went. I was a clown that year and we have a picture of me attempting to smile but it wasn't easy. I knew I would have surgery again in a few days and wasn't looking forward to it. I had a habit of swallowing gum when I was 9. After my surgery my dad joked that the doctor couldn't get in due to my insides being stuck together. It was a lie. He did get in.
Back in 1986, St Jude hospital used St. Joseph's OR and there was a tunnel that connected them. I remember being pushed back and hurting very, very badly. The orderly wouldn't slow down though. He knew I needed to get to the room and that be it.
I don't remember a lot until the phone call when mom was told it looked like the cancer hadn't spread. Also I remember being asked to get up and walk around. Oh how I hated it. I moaned and groaned. Until I saw a little 5 year old practically racing around the nurse's desk not moaning at all.
I couldn't let someone a little more than half my age outdo me. Of course I didn't realize he had a brain operation and it wasn't going to hurt him as much to walk as it did me because my abdomen had been cut. This time the doctors tried to leave my belly button but the first surgery had mutilated it. I had a huge gash on my stomach and the wound was still yellow in part due to the betadine bath in the St Jude bath tub the night before and the betadine from surgery. It was U-G-L-Y.
I remembered back to the one before when my mom and the doctor discussed scars and keeping it where I would be able to wear whatever I wanted. Yeah, well, those days were over because 6 years later I would have surgery in the same spot with a much longer incision and it became a glaring scar that everyone could see. My mom and I fought when I was 16 because I still wanted to wear a two piece bathing suit and she thought I wouldn't want to be asked about my scars. I won the fight. I don't remember being asked about it specifically until I went to a different school in the 10th grade and showed it to prove I had went through ovarian cancer. No one believed me but they would a few months later. This all comes later.
I remember a nurse bribing me to eat a grilled cheese sandwich by saying I couldn't go home the next day if I didn't eat it. I cried and I cried. I wanted home from St Jude hospital. I already knew I would feel better when I got there--something that always held true so I choked the sandwich down in between tears. I got to go home. I thought things were going to be normal in a couple of weeks when allowed back in school.
Things couldn't have been much more abnormal.
First of all, I learned of having cancer from my best friend who had learned from my reading teacher telling our class. As a 9 year old I knew nothing about cancer and neither did any of them. When I came back to school, there was a lot of odd feeling. I was allowed to leave to my locker early so no one would bump into my stomach with their books so that may have bred some resentment. I was given more attention from the teachers than I had been. My then best friend said she wished she had a tumor and I told her she didn't know what she was talking about and that she could have mine. Special attention or not I knew it sucked.
Going back to school at this time cooincided with me crawling into a shyness shell I still remain in to this day. From the 4th grade on, I was labelled "Most Bashful" in our "Who's who?" I hadn't been the shy kid before. As a matter of fact, I had been almost bossy but after rejection upon returning to school I was afraid to speak to anyone. There were times kids would cross the hall from me because they honestly thought I was contagious.
Between 1986 and 1992, I returned to St Jude hospital for ultrasounds, ct scans, etc each 3 month, 6 month, and finally one year block. It was on my first one year block that things came unraveled. During this period, I had went through bilateral breast biopsies twice that showed cysts but nothing indicating cancer. Until that very first yearly checkup when my BP was twice what it should have been and my bad mood, going to bed at 4 p.m., and general uneasiness found its cause.
It was about 3 months into a new school year at a new school. I had transferred because I wanted to force myself to not be so shy and to have more friends. It wasn't happening at the larger school I attended so by freedom of choice I went to a small school that no longer exists. Even there I would be teased but the difference is that they worked closely with me and I would graduate with my class in 1995 like I was supposed to but that comes later.
Looking back on that period, I see myself in the two week wait before my laparoscopy to find what was blocking my kidney and causing my blood pressure to rise. I would ask to be excused to the restroom, pull my legs up in the stall where no one knew I was in there, and take my blood pressure. I had been given procardia to take when it got past a certain level and I had to watch it closely. I was ashamed of this and embarassed but each time I tested it was high enough for medication. This went on for two weeks because the doctors thought my blockage was a lymph node.
It wasn't.
Well, I was going to create a new section
but I completely forgot how?
No new news in my life really. I will be seeing the GYN late in Sept about having my uterus removed. I am really not looking forward to this and I may opt to have endometrial biopsies each year instead. All the surgery has caught up to me. If I can't have this done when they do my nipples then I will wait.
I can't believe I had my masectomy on Feb 28th and I am STILL not finished with the process of getting new breasts. I even settled for a B cup and I'm still waiting. Apparently it takes a while for implants to settle and this explains my dimpling and they can't do anything with creating nipples until things have settled. I'm starting to grow used to my body looking this way. Have I completely accepted it? No chance but I'm working on it. I know God has reasons for even the worse things that happen so I'm clinging to him and trying not to ask questions. Sometimes it is very difficult not to ask them though.
I'm amazed at how many women are being diagnosed with breast cancer prior to age 40. I always thought I wouldn't have anything to worry about before then--not really. My fibrocystic stuff was always benign and I was told not to worry because my young age worked in my favor but since my diagnosis I have had an online aquaintance be diagnosed and a sister of an online friend diagnosed. She asked if it was because of something new happening and I like to think it's because we are just catching things sooner.
I drive myself crazy sometimes. I looked up how high the odds are of cancer the younger you have ct scans. I can't remember but it was insane. I had my first ct scan in 1978 and was not even a year old. I've had a bunch since then plus MRIs and all kinds of tests.
I look at the cancer cure rates now and am no longer as impressed. Now I understand these reflect 5 year cure rates and many people go on to have later relapses or be diagnosed with another type. My first dysgerminoma technically went down as cured but at 6 years in remission it came back. Who knows what the real odds are? That's what is so freaking scary about this disease. What sucks is waiting 5 years to hear CURE only to have year #6 bring the cancer back. I'm not griping though. I once read a case where dysgerminoma came back after TWENTY years. I will be free and clear from that one for 16 years on Feb 15, 2009. Then 13 days later I will celebrate 1 year since the ductal in situ was diagnosed.
I can't help but worry about if they'll find cancer in my colon or small intestine--those are the next to be tested. Or somewhere on my skin since I worshipped the tanning bed for 6 years every single day from age 15-21. But with all this I have to continue to remember that life is something that should be taken day by day. I've worried so much away as it is. I'm tired.
No new news in my life really. I will be seeing the GYN late in Sept about having my uterus removed. I am really not looking forward to this and I may opt to have endometrial biopsies each year instead. All the surgery has caught up to me. If I can't have this done when they do my nipples then I will wait.
I can't believe I had my masectomy on Feb 28th and I am STILL not finished with the process of getting new breasts. I even settled for a B cup and I'm still waiting. Apparently it takes a while for implants to settle and this explains my dimpling and they can't do anything with creating nipples until things have settled. I'm starting to grow used to my body looking this way. Have I completely accepted it? No chance but I'm working on it. I know God has reasons for even the worse things that happen so I'm clinging to him and trying not to ask questions. Sometimes it is very difficult not to ask them though.
I'm amazed at how many women are being diagnosed with breast cancer prior to age 40. I always thought I wouldn't have anything to worry about before then--not really. My fibrocystic stuff was always benign and I was told not to worry because my young age worked in my favor but since my diagnosis I have had an online aquaintance be diagnosed and a sister of an online friend diagnosed. She asked if it was because of something new happening and I like to think it's because we are just catching things sooner.
I drive myself crazy sometimes. I looked up how high the odds are of cancer the younger you have ct scans. I can't remember but it was insane. I had my first ct scan in 1978 and was not even a year old. I've had a bunch since then plus MRIs and all kinds of tests.
I look at the cancer cure rates now and am no longer as impressed. Now I understand these reflect 5 year cure rates and many people go on to have later relapses or be diagnosed with another type. My first dysgerminoma technically went down as cured but at 6 years in remission it came back. Who knows what the real odds are? That's what is so freaking scary about this disease. What sucks is waiting 5 years to hear CURE only to have year #6 bring the cancer back. I'm not griping though. I once read a case where dysgerminoma came back after TWENTY years. I will be free and clear from that one for 16 years on Feb 15, 2009. Then 13 days later I will celebrate 1 year since the ductal in situ was diagnosed.
I can't help but worry about if they'll find cancer in my colon or small intestine--those are the next to be tested. Or somewhere on my skin since I worshipped the tanning bed for 6 years every single day from age 15-21. But with all this I have to continue to remember that life is something that should be taken day by day. I've worried so much away as it is. I'm tired.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
I'm creating another new blog section
It's time. After Saturday, I feel like I'm getting a fresh begninning.
When I started this blog, I shivered at the thought of Shawn reading it. Because I shared it with you guys, my online friends, and no one laughed at me (or at least told me they laughed at me) I decided it was safe to show Shawn. I didn't know how he would react.
Imagine my surprise when I saw my husband CRY for maybe the third time in the pretty much 8 years we have known each other!!!! He told me I should start that book and if it did publish then we would worry about the $$ and how it affects my medical later on.
I was surprised to see him cry and I was glad to know it affected him like that. I'm still home. No mental instituition. Even though that day took all I had mentally, I wish for many more days like that--where everything is clear and I feel Christ's prescence so near. I no longer see God as a punitive God. I am reading this book called "Beyond the Veil" it is by Alice Smith and it is teaching me so much. She talked about how intercessors often feel depression because that's actually a call from God to pray whether for them or for someone else.
I saw that yesterday.
I have a friend who I have known since the third grade. That's longer than I have heard the word "cancer" without it being in regard to my grandfather. Yesterday God gave me the opportunity to help her out. I wasn't able to even bring him up but I showed her a part of the love his son has showed me. I did it without her even knowing. I don't know her spiritual life but I saw very strong signs of the same OCD and anxiety I've battled for years. She lost her wallet. I was there to calm her down. It seems so small and insignificant (my help) but after Saturday I know that sometimes those small things matter more than we know. Christ cares about small things. He cares about me even though to him there have been so many Christians it must be like we are ants and he is the king ant. Except for him the word king doesn't exactly fit because he is much more than that. A constant prescence whether felt or not. He feels sadness when we sin and that makes me want to make an even bigger effort not to do it. I'm a changed woman over ONE day!
He revealed to me a changed marriage. He revealed to me that I've slipped in regards to teaching the kids about him though even before I had began starting them to pray. I guess mommy didn't want to believe she no longer had a baby but a small child capable of true prayers.
Now I'm daring to dream and hope about each day because I know I'm here for a longer haul than I ever thought. I have no illusion that the medical things won't still be there. The migraine that woke me up at 4:30 am this morning was a reminder of that. The pain doesn't seem so much though. It's no longer going deep enough to get to my soul. In one day God showed me through his son that 1) my marriage is saved and if it is meant to be Shawn and I will see our 50th wedding anniversary 2) he still has a purpose for me and can use me and even more importantly that I know I am on track with that purpose 3) when we sin, he feels sadness. When Shawn had a lapse due to exhaustion that day and got loud with me I wasted no time with the tears. I honestly felt like I felt what Christ was feeling! Of course not to the full extent but I was upset Shawn was angry and that he was feeling bad. It made me cry.
Now THIS is exciting.
When I let Shawn read the blog post, he said "Now that explains a whole lot about why you have been acting differently". Isn't that key to knowing something sincere has happened? Also my friend who had the panic attack yesterday just looked at me and said "something has changed about you---I can't put my finger on it but you seem SO strong. I know you hate hearing that because you said anyone would go through chemo and cancer if they had to but you do it and it doesn't seem to weaken you. You seem stonger."
I'll see her again sooner than I would have. I have an opportunity to share my witness which I think she needs to read (I can write it better than say it). I don't know what her relationship with the Lord is like and it is none of my business but I feel drawn to share for some reason--the same way I felt with Shawn last night. I thought in my head "God, are you sure? He hasn't shown much interest in you beyond church on Sunday." Well, there was still the small voice saying "do it!"
Now I feel more brave. With Christ all things are possible. Those aren't just empty words but the real deal. We don't deserve it but he loves us anyway. I got my wish to feel unconditional love that day. He sent it to me through the Spirit. I saw it from my kids. Now that I know he cares enough about this "ant" I also know he cares about his other ants. I felt his unconditional love for me and a heightened sense of the unconditional love of Hannah more so than Owen but definately from both.
I'm so glad what I felt Saturday isn't completely gone. Yesterday wasn't a day of revelation but I asked for only enough for me to be able to understand and endure. I don't expect an end to it but do imagine it will be spaced out. That's ok. He knows best.
And gone is any resentment I had over the cancers and this Cowden Syndrome. Now I will share that I have felt resentment. It's tough seeing moms better able to provide for their kids because they can work outside the home and knowing my health has kept me from working to help has been a sense of shame for me. A better word may be sorrow. It was revealed to me not to feel that way and that I have more important work at home.
The whole day showed me that my life has been restored in so many ways----anxiety next to gone, marriage is better than it ever was, my new surgeries are the right thing to do and not to fear what will happen as a result. Now writing the words "I love Jesus and am SO grateful for his gift" have more meaning. That deadness is gone. The realization that something I wrote touched my husband's heart is one of the best things. Knowing several people said what I wrote made them have tears in their eyes makes me 110% sure that really was my Jesus and not just a really, really good day. Knowing I couldn't sleep until I got that written down makes me know it was a prompting to write it down not only for my own benefit but for how it could benefit others because the next morning I woke up as I thought--less there in the revelatory phase but still that prescence and the changes aren't all gone.
It's showing in my behavior ya'll. It's real. No more empty prayers. My plan is to study more in the area of apologetics to be better equipped to share my testimony with people and to be able to support it with true facts. My prayer life is about to increase exponetially. I know with a certainty Saturday came as an answer to the prayer I had at the altar that day. I said "ok God, so are you tearing me down to build me up? What's the deal?" Now I know. I can make Sat July 26th as a day to celebrate each year. I had been celebrating Feb 15th because it ended chemo and now I'm changing it as I have a day to remember not fearing cancer and that's more of a special day than most I can think of.
When I started this blog, I shivered at the thought of Shawn reading it. Because I shared it with you guys, my online friends, and no one laughed at me (or at least told me they laughed at me) I decided it was safe to show Shawn. I didn't know how he would react.
Imagine my surprise when I saw my husband CRY for maybe the third time in the pretty much 8 years we have known each other!!!! He told me I should start that book and if it did publish then we would worry about the $$ and how it affects my medical later on.
I was surprised to see him cry and I was glad to know it affected him like that. I'm still home. No mental instituition. Even though that day took all I had mentally, I wish for many more days like that--where everything is clear and I feel Christ's prescence so near. I no longer see God as a punitive God. I am reading this book called "Beyond the Veil" it is by Alice Smith and it is teaching me so much. She talked about how intercessors often feel depression because that's actually a call from God to pray whether for them or for someone else.
I saw that yesterday.
I have a friend who I have known since the third grade. That's longer than I have heard the word "cancer" without it being in regard to my grandfather. Yesterday God gave me the opportunity to help her out. I wasn't able to even bring him up but I showed her a part of the love his son has showed me. I did it without her even knowing. I don't know her spiritual life but I saw very strong signs of the same OCD and anxiety I've battled for years. She lost her wallet. I was there to calm her down. It seems so small and insignificant (my help) but after Saturday I know that sometimes those small things matter more than we know. Christ cares about small things. He cares about me even though to him there have been so many Christians it must be like we are ants and he is the king ant. Except for him the word king doesn't exactly fit because he is much more than that. A constant prescence whether felt or not. He feels sadness when we sin and that makes me want to make an even bigger effort not to do it. I'm a changed woman over ONE day!
He revealed to me a changed marriage. He revealed to me that I've slipped in regards to teaching the kids about him though even before I had began starting them to pray. I guess mommy didn't want to believe she no longer had a baby but a small child capable of true prayers.
Now I'm daring to dream and hope about each day because I know I'm here for a longer haul than I ever thought. I have no illusion that the medical things won't still be there. The migraine that woke me up at 4:30 am this morning was a reminder of that. The pain doesn't seem so much though. It's no longer going deep enough to get to my soul. In one day God showed me through his son that 1) my marriage is saved and if it is meant to be Shawn and I will see our 50th wedding anniversary 2) he still has a purpose for me and can use me and even more importantly that I know I am on track with that purpose 3) when we sin, he feels sadness. When Shawn had a lapse due to exhaustion that day and got loud with me I wasted no time with the tears. I honestly felt like I felt what Christ was feeling! Of course not to the full extent but I was upset Shawn was angry and that he was feeling bad. It made me cry.
Now THIS is exciting.
When I let Shawn read the blog post, he said "Now that explains a whole lot about why you have been acting differently". Isn't that key to knowing something sincere has happened? Also my friend who had the panic attack yesterday just looked at me and said "something has changed about you---I can't put my finger on it but you seem SO strong. I know you hate hearing that because you said anyone would go through chemo and cancer if they had to but you do it and it doesn't seem to weaken you. You seem stonger."
I'll see her again sooner than I would have. I have an opportunity to share my witness which I think she needs to read (I can write it better than say it). I don't know what her relationship with the Lord is like and it is none of my business but I feel drawn to share for some reason--the same way I felt with Shawn last night. I thought in my head "God, are you sure? He hasn't shown much interest in you beyond church on Sunday." Well, there was still the small voice saying "do it!"
Now I feel more brave. With Christ all things are possible. Those aren't just empty words but the real deal. We don't deserve it but he loves us anyway. I got my wish to feel unconditional love that day. He sent it to me through the Spirit. I saw it from my kids. Now that I know he cares enough about this "ant" I also know he cares about his other ants. I felt his unconditional love for me and a heightened sense of the unconditional love of Hannah more so than Owen but definately from both.
I'm so glad what I felt Saturday isn't completely gone. Yesterday wasn't a day of revelation but I asked for only enough for me to be able to understand and endure. I don't expect an end to it but do imagine it will be spaced out. That's ok. He knows best.
And gone is any resentment I had over the cancers and this Cowden Syndrome. Now I will share that I have felt resentment. It's tough seeing moms better able to provide for their kids because they can work outside the home and knowing my health has kept me from working to help has been a sense of shame for me. A better word may be sorrow. It was revealed to me not to feel that way and that I have more important work at home.
The whole day showed me that my life has been restored in so many ways----anxiety next to gone, marriage is better than it ever was, my new surgeries are the right thing to do and not to fear what will happen as a result. Now writing the words "I love Jesus and am SO grateful for his gift" have more meaning. That deadness is gone. The realization that something I wrote touched my husband's heart is one of the best things. Knowing several people said what I wrote made them have tears in their eyes makes me 110% sure that really was my Jesus and not just a really, really good day. Knowing I couldn't sleep until I got that written down makes me know it was a prompting to write it down not only for my own benefit but for how it could benefit others because the next morning I woke up as I thought--less there in the revelatory phase but still that prescence and the changes aren't all gone.
It's showing in my behavior ya'll. It's real. No more empty prayers. My plan is to study more in the area of apologetics to be better equipped to share my testimony with people and to be able to support it with true facts. My prayer life is about to increase exponetially. I know with a certainty Saturday came as an answer to the prayer I had at the altar that day. I said "ok God, so are you tearing me down to build me up? What's the deal?" Now I know. I can make Sat July 26th as a day to celebrate each year. I had been celebrating Feb 15th because it ended chemo and now I'm changing it as I have a day to remember not fearing cancer and that's more of a special day than most I can think of.
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