Pink Story: Back to Work After Surgery

I made it through my first day back at work.  I didn't have a bad day, but I didn't have a victorious day either.

I felt isolated and alone.  I struggled to talk about myself and couldn't honestly answer how I was doing.  I ended up saying "okay."  It was as if the only choices to the "How are you?" question were good or bad so I said, "okay."  I realize now I could have said weary, scared, cautious, heavy, hanging in there, determined, strong despite my weakness, hopeful for full recovery, or any number of more intelligent and truthful answers. I kept judging whether the person asking really wanted to know and responded accordingly, when in reality, I should simply have answered honestly no matter what.  

When I did talk about it someone interrupted with their surgery story and I refused to compete in a conversation.  Nobody else has done that, interrupt with their own story.  I've met over a dozen people that have had breast cancer, they tell me they had it, but they don't regale their story.  The fact that they have gone through this is all I need.  All our stories are different. This person had an out-patient surgery, interjected my story with "Me too!" then continued talking about herself.  I felt isolated.  Knowing that I looked normal on the outside, but wasn't normal on the inside made me feel isolated.  Everybody looks at me and thinks I'm fine when really I'm falling apart.

Jazzy

I landed in the airport knowing that I would have to take a cab to the college.  I expected a line of cabs waiting outside just like  in my hometown airport.  I exited the airport to find an Uber driver and some hotel shuttle vans.  My heart sank.  I wasn't exactly sure what to do. I went back inside to either add the Uber App to my phone or to call a cab.  I wasn't sure what would be best.  I was definitely in uncharted territory.  Other passengers from my plane passed me by.  I was tempted to ask if anyone was going to the college, but I couldn't bring myself to ask a stranger for a ride.  I later found out that a fellow students was on that flight, was headed to the same dorm I was, and he also had to take a cab. However, since we weren't wearing name tags or carrying signs, we didn't discover that truth until we had both spent a couple meals worth on cab fare.

Just as I was about to dial the number for the cab company, a van pulled up with the familiar yellow taxi sign on the top.  A tall lady asked where I was going and assured me she could get me there.  I didn't let her take my backpack because in Washington DC, they charged extra if they touched your bags.  Later, I found out she wanted to take it because she wanted to help me.  It would not change my fare.  I felt a little badly for thinking the worst, but also knew I was using the only foreknowledge I had.

I settled into the back seat.  She showed me her fare.  She wanted me to know, but she didn't want to make a big deal about it.  She kindly asked me questions about what I was doing.  When I told her I was getting my Master's she praised me for my hard work and encouraged me to go for my PhD.  I can't imagine considering that right now.  She was adamant that if I can learn more, I should.

I discovered she originally came from Serbia.  She'd only been in the area for about a year, but she had spent a lot of time in Alaska working.  She was a hard worker, she was a business woman.  She was educated, and she was determined.  She started this cab company as her retirement. I enjoyed my conversation with her.  I enjoyed the connection.

I shared my blog with her in hopes she would read it.  Many of the things she believes are things I try to put words to.  I've found people like it when I put words to their deepest feelings, thoughts and beliefs.  It's kind of like drawing that perfect picture of the thing you see in your head.  She gave me a hug and her card.  If I ever need a ride, she will be the first one I call.  She knew how to use her job as a ministry.  She ministered to me.  She was simply a kind person who paid attention.

Ultimately all we need to do to make a person feel amazing is pay attention to them and genuinely care.  Thanks again for the ride and the conversation, Jazzy, you are a treasure.

Pink Story: Eye's Focus

Excerpt from Jesus Calling:

“Follow me one step at a time… You see huge mountains looming and you start wondering how you’re going to scale those heights… I will equip you thoroughly for that strenuous climb.  I will even give My angels change over you, to preserve you in all your ways.”

Perhaps this is why October moved so slowly.  I saw only large mountains ahead.  Each one was taller than the next.  Each one was covered in deep, cold snow.  The steep and slippery slope didn’t look inviting.  The mountains wanted to be left alone.  Because I didn’t know which of these mountains I would be climbing I kept my eyes down and focused on the path I was currently walking. I watched where my next step would go and nothing more.m I couldn’t consider climbing those mountains and since I didn’t know which one, I couldn’t handle being overwhelmed with wonder and worry.

Now that  I think I know which mountain is ahead I have started looking at the mountains instead of my path.  I’ve stopped focusing on my next step.  Because my eyes are looking ahead to the daunting journey, I have more fear and weariness than anything else. Nothing has changed except where I focus my eyes.

Strangers

Today I met and visited with strangers.  It was incredible.

Usually when I am out, I am with someone.  I am with one of my daughters or my husband or a friend or other family member.  If I go out alone, I am on an errand.  I don't travel alone and I don't eat out alone.  Today I did both of those things.

I know that many people do this regularly and are pros at it.  I'm not.  I'm 40 years old and even though I've imagined myself being a strong independent woman out in the world, it doesn't happen very often.

Today began with the plane ride.  I got on a plane to travel to my final destination to finish my master's degree.  On the way, I visited with a young lady on her way to visit friends in Panama City. She was going to be staying a month.  Unfortunately, she was supposed to go next month but had to leave a month early because one of her friends died.  I couldn't bring myself to make her talk about it more, but I thought that was sad, yet she knew that she would also find joy in spending time with her other friends.

I met another lady who was thrilled to be going on vacation to Jackson Hole.  It sounded like the break was welcome.  She was traveling with her family and would be gone a week.

I met a 9 month old little girl with eyes as blue as a clear lagoon and thick blond hair standing rebelliously on end.  She was learning to make noises, which to he,r was talking.  She made the most beautiful sound.  She said "da" in as many different ways and  in as many different tones as you could possible say it to tell her story.  She had a wonderful family.  They all loved each other and enjoyed being with each other.  She and her dad played peek-a-boo while we were landing.  All that giggling wasn't going to let a tear sneak out.

A lady named "Jazzy" took me to my final destination in her Yellow Cab.  She was incredible and cared about me.  We talked about family and life and I was no longer leery about riding in a cab.  Her story is much longer, she will get her own page. She changed the course of my day.

Finally, I met a lady named Trish.  We visited over a drink.  We were complete strangers talking about life and relationships and her upcoming wedding.  Trish gets her own page too.  I felt blessed to get to meet her.

I said goodbye to my family this morning and started on my journey alone.  At the end of my journey, I was impacted by at least 5 different people, they made a mark on my day and I will remember them. They made a mark on me and I will be affected by them.  After these encounters, I am thrilled to see who else I will meet and fellowship with over these next two weeks.

Pink Story: Christmas Cards

 It’s time to think about Christmas cards.  I started addressing envelopes.  I’m sending everyone a picture of my daughters from the Oregon coast this past summer.  They are sitting close together with colorful buoys in the background.  They have their arms around each other and it makes my heart melt.  

As I’m writing down people’s names I’m wondering if they know about what is going on with us.  I wonder if they want to know.  I wonder if their prayers and support would be helpful.  I wonder how I would tell them.  Many envelopes are sealed and ready to mail, but perhaps I’ll tell those that are unsealed.  I realize again how much I appreciate others spreading the word about my cancer, but at the same time I wonder if they are spreading the word?  Are they telling each other what is going on with me so I don’t have to?

Part of me wants to walk through this journey silently, but maybe that is selfish.  I would want to know about friends and family going through this.  Why is it so difficult for me to tell them?  Perhaps saying it still makes it too real.  It’s hard to believe that after all this time, I still am having a difficult time with the reality of this.  Perhaps it’s too fresh.  Perhaps I need time to step away from it and look back, then maybe I’ll be more willing to talk about it.  It’s sitting on me right now and I’m afraid to name it.  It might notice me more.  It might become louder than it is.  I’ll figure out what to do about telling people.  It’s my choice either way.  They’ll be okay whether I tell them or not.

Boxes

I've packed a lot of boxes of our possessions in the past few weeks.  I usually begin in a room and start putting like things into the boxes: items from my desk, food from the pantry, dishes, books.  At the end of packing every box there is always a space that I need to fill and no items that fit that category will fill it. Because of those odd shapes, shoes are with the sewing, books are with the dishes, and socks are with the spices.  The label on the outside of the box never includes everything that is inside.  It usually only describes the main things.

If we are boxes, we are definitely the ones with the hodgepodge of items.  Inside are the main parts of ourselves that the majority of people know about, but there are also those tiny parts of us that fit inside the nooks and crannies and in between the big parts.  When we look at each other we usually see the main parts, the parts that people talk about and willingly show, but we need to remember there are those hidden things in between that are also part of us, part of the box.

Some of my boxes are labeled "kitchen" and they will begin in the kitchen, but once we dig into it a little deeper, we'll find some books, maybe some shoes and probably someone's clothes.  Even though the box begins in the kitchen, parts of it belong in the living room and other parts belong in someone's bedroom closet.

We spend more time in places and some may think we belong there, but there are those other places that we belong just as much and aren't able to spend as much time so people don't think it's part of who we are.

Take a minute to discover all the things packed away in people's boxes before labeling them or placing them in the room you think you belong.

Pink Story: Back to Work

It’s been almost 2 weeks since my surgery.  I don’t feel that same heaviness on my body I have felt.  I feel like I can almost be normal with some caution.  Normal means go through the tasks of a day without having to take long breaks.  I realize the pain may never fully go away.  Its one of the mental battles I get to have on a daily basis.  This pain in my breast will probably be here to some extent for some time.

I’m going back to school tomorrow.  I’m not concerned I won’t make it through the day.  I’m concerned my adrenaline will kick into gear and I will push too far.  I fear I will make it through the day then be in extreme pain.  Teaching requires an intense amount of attention.  I have to know what each student is doing at all times, make sure they are on task which means getting them to do all the things they don’t want to do, be aware of what I am teaching, be aware of how the students are receiving the information, and monitor their practice to make sure they understand.  Typically, at the end of the day the adrenaline is still carrying me and I appear to be full of energy.  Once I get home, I crash with exhaustion.  This is how a day flows when I am healthy.  I’d prefer to be able to find a calm balance throughout the day and not fall back on adrenaline to survive.  This will give me an opportunity to try to learn to teach well without tapping into my adrenaline.  I don’t think I’ve ever done it, but I need to begin tomorrow.

I have found one one more example of something I’m going to need to change in order to stay healthy and strong.  I have to begin putting myself first and making wise choices to take care of me.