The best stories come from affliction not ease.
When I have a great week, it is wonderful, but a great week doesn't make a great story. When everything goes your way and all is well the story is simply a happy ending with nothing else.
The best stories come when we have affliction or difficulty in our lives and we overcome it. I had a rough weekend a little while ago. I had four different short stories that came out of that weekend. Those few days took every ounce of my energy and every part of my spirit to be victorious. I was. And the story of my victory over my struggle was much more exciting than the story of a sweet and easy weekend.
I don't like to have difficulty. I don't like to have bad days. I don't like it when everything is an uphill battle, but when I overcome those difficulties, when I make it to the end of a bad day and when I finally crest the top of the mountain I get to see what I have overcome. I get to see the journey and how I am stronger for completing it.
Think of your favorite book, television show or movie. It is your favorite because it has a good story. It tells a story of overcoming hardship. It tells a story of overcoming sorrow. It tells a story of strength in the midst of sorrow and pain. You like it because someone is victorious over the difficulties life throws at us.
The reason I have something to say to you so often is because I am daily overcoming. I am daily fighting a battle of health and peace. I am daily looking for a way to be me, to positively influence others and become the best person I can be no matter what is trying to take me down. I live my story because I have more difficult days than easy ones. I thank God for the easy ones that give me a break from the tough ones. I thank God that the tough ones won't last forever.
Victory is always just over the horizon if we keep moving and are willing to get back up when we are knocked down.
Saturday, September 30, 2017
Thursday, September 28, 2017
Orange Story: Surprise Saturday
I remember the end of my breast cancer journey the best and I remember the beginning of my MS journey the best. Here is the beginning:
Friday, January 23, 2015 was a very productive day. It had been almost 2 years since my last radiation treatment. I wasn't feeling the drag on my energy and my life anymore. On this day, I cleaned my house, watched a movie, had 2 meetings, exercised, and took my dog for a long walk. It felt good to be productive and to enjoy it.
That evening my daughters and I played Just Dance. The 3 of us danced in the basement for hours and had a great time. I worked hard to match the dancer on the screen so I could win. I didn't make a big deal about it, but I was good at winning. I'm not sure I was good at dancing, but I knew how to get points. I felt amazing!
I woke up on Saturday morning drooling and lacking the power to keep the drool from spilling down my chin. Brushing my teeth was tricky, the toothpaste kept falling out of my mouth. I giggled a little, not completely aware of all that was happening. It wasn't until I tried to talk that I noticed the real problem. There was a weakness in my lips preventing me from controlling them. I couldn't form words. I later realized it was the entire left side of my face. It wouldn't move. I was sitting in a chair doing a Sudoku puzzle, carefully drinking my coffee and assuring my husband this couldn't be too bad because I was still actively using my brain.
He looked worried. He kept asking me how I was doing. I thought it would get better. He knew something was wrong. I simply felt a little funky. I don't think I thought it would go away. I was certain I would end up at the doctor, but I was relaxed about it, probably because I couldn't look at myself and see what was happening.
We went to Urgent Care. As soon as they saw my sagging face, they sent me to the ER. Everyone kept saying it was probably Bell's Palsy. It goes away after a few days, they said. However, there were some inconsistencies. My face wasn't numb. I could still feel it, I just couldn't move it. I had not had a virus previous to this. Usually Bell's Palsy is brought on by a virus.
Because of my medical history (breast cancer and a father with MS) they decided to do an MRI just to be sure. They were not pleased with the results. There were some lesions in my brain. They said they could be caused by cancer or MS. They believed it was more likely MS and I was immediately scheduled with a neurologist on Monday morning.
Friday, January 23, 2015 was a very productive day. It had been almost 2 years since my last radiation treatment. I wasn't feeling the drag on my energy and my life anymore. On this day, I cleaned my house, watched a movie, had 2 meetings, exercised, and took my dog for a long walk. It felt good to be productive and to enjoy it.
That evening my daughters and I played Just Dance. The 3 of us danced in the basement for hours and had a great time. I worked hard to match the dancer on the screen so I could win. I didn't make a big deal about it, but I was good at winning. I'm not sure I was good at dancing, but I knew how to get points. I felt amazing!
I woke up on Saturday morning drooling and lacking the power to keep the drool from spilling down my chin. Brushing my teeth was tricky, the toothpaste kept falling out of my mouth. I giggled a little, not completely aware of all that was happening. It wasn't until I tried to talk that I noticed the real problem. There was a weakness in my lips preventing me from controlling them. I couldn't form words. I later realized it was the entire left side of my face. It wouldn't move. I was sitting in a chair doing a Sudoku puzzle, carefully drinking my coffee and assuring my husband this couldn't be too bad because I was still actively using my brain.
He looked worried. He kept asking me how I was doing. I thought it would get better. He knew something was wrong. I simply felt a little funky. I don't think I thought it would go away. I was certain I would end up at the doctor, but I was relaxed about it, probably because I couldn't look at myself and see what was happening.
We went to Urgent Care. As soon as they saw my sagging face, they sent me to the ER. Everyone kept saying it was probably Bell's Palsy. It goes away after a few days, they said. However, there were some inconsistencies. My face wasn't numb. I could still feel it, I just couldn't move it. I had not had a virus previous to this. Usually Bell's Palsy is brought on by a virus.
Because of my medical history (breast cancer and a father with MS) they decided to do an MRI just to be sure. They were not pleased with the results. There were some lesions in my brain. They said they could be caused by cancer or MS. They believed it was more likely MS and I was immediately scheduled with a neurologist on Monday morning.
Tuesday, September 26, 2017
Ruined Routines
I've come across a number of people who tell me because something is different everything is ruined.
Traditions seem to get thrown out quickly when things don't go as planned. The family was supposed to get together, but since one person can't make it, all is ruined. The family was supposed to be at so and so's house. Since they're ill and they have to have it somewhere else, all is ruined.
I used to work at a department store. I had to work holidays. It was part of the job. Traditions couldn't be kept. My husband and I quickly learned that special moments are when you make them, they are not a date on the calendar.
Traditions are made from special moments and special people that we want to keep close. They can change. New ones can be created. Old ones can fall away. The most important thing is that the people you care about know that you care about them and you make time for them.
When the schedule doesn't go as planned, we take another look at the schedule and rearrange. We don't throw the whole event out.
Cancer and MS have changed everything for me. Everything will always be different than I imagined. It was only in searching for the blessings that I pulled out of that slump. I couldn't focus on the changed routines and rituals, but on what I still had and the blessings that hadn't changed.
Traditions seem to get thrown out quickly when things don't go as planned. The family was supposed to get together, but since one person can't make it, all is ruined. The family was supposed to be at so and so's house. Since they're ill and they have to have it somewhere else, all is ruined.
I used to work at a department store. I had to work holidays. It was part of the job. Traditions couldn't be kept. My husband and I quickly learned that special moments are when you make them, they are not a date on the calendar.
Traditions are made from special moments and special people that we want to keep close. They can change. New ones can be created. Old ones can fall away. The most important thing is that the people you care about know that you care about them and you make time for them.
When the schedule doesn't go as planned, we take another look at the schedule and rearrange. We don't throw the whole event out.
Cancer and MS have changed everything for me. Everything will always be different than I imagined. It was only in searching for the blessings that I pulled out of that slump. I couldn't focus on the changed routines and rituals, but on what I still had and the blessings that hadn't changed.
Monday, September 25, 2017
Pink Story: Live Truth
I was diagnosed with breast cancer on October 1, 2012. I had a lumpectomy on November 12, 2012. I spent the next December and January receiving radiation treatment. As soon as my treatment was over I had a bad reaction to something that happened to me and my face swelled up like a party balloon. As the swelling went down and my body began to try to heal from the radiation treatment, I found myself daily being thankful for the health I had and that each moment I was getting healthier. I kept track of each thing I was able to do that I hadn’t done before. I celebrated daily.
At the end of the most difficult part of the journey and the beginning of the healing process, I wrote:
I’m getting there. This journey has helped me see the truth of me and my world and my role in it. Without this journey, I would still be lost or blind or both.
I was learning to write the truth, telling myself the truth and being okay with it. Reality doesn’t change just because you don’t want to believe it’s reality.
I was in that place of choice. I was finished with all the really crazy parts of breast cancer. I was at a place where I could make a choice. I could choose to be a part of the breast cancer community, go to groups and fundraisers and such or I could pretend it didn’t happen, it was not a part of me and only remember when I have an appointment.
I believe if I chose to forget I would be lying to myself and cheating myself of growth and revelation. Yes, the worst was over. Yes, they couldn’t heal me any more than they did, but the experience had still formed me and put its stamp on me. If I ignored that transformation I would be ignoring a piece of myself.
Truth is knowing oneself and accepting oneself, scars and all. My story may inspire someone, but not if I ignore it. My story may empower me, but not if I pretend it never happened. My story may encourage someone, but not if I don’t tell it.
My story doesn’t end here. I had days where I felt amazing and days where I was tired and weary. My body still surprised me by having unexpected issues whenever it wanted. Daily, I fought the mental battle to stand, to run, to move forward even if I didn’t feel like it. Daily, I celebrated what I could do and accepted what I couldn’t. Most of the time I didn’t believe my limitations would be forever which made it easier to move forward one day at a time.
It has been almost 5 years since my diagnosis. This is the point where the doctors stop seeing me regularly. It is good news. I am cancer free. I am not free of the experience or the effects on my mind and body. I hope people who go through difficult times like this take it easy on themselves, give themselves room to rest and to heal and remember that it is okay to have a bad day and it is okay to let others help.
Saturday, September 23, 2017
Weary
During my cancer battle I often had weeks where I didn't get a lot of sleep. Even if I did get sleep, my body would still feel tired. Tired for me meant that I might fall asleep while driving in the middle of the day. I had moments where finding the words to say wouldn't come because of how weary I was.
During my radiation treatment when I fought falling asleep in the car or went to bed at 6:30 in the evening, someone asked how I was doing. I answered that I was tired. I said it with deep meaning (in my mind). They shut me down by saying they were tired too. They said everyone was tired. I realized I needed a new word. My tired today is not the same word I used before cancer or MS.
Today's tired is deep in my bones, yes, my bones are tired. My eyes are weary from forcing themselves open all day. If I relax, I will sleep. I pull and push myself around all day so that by the end of the day I have worn every part of myself out.
I'm not sure today's tired compares with "having a baby" tired or "running after toddlers" tired. I think most of that was physical. Today's tired is mind, body, spirit tired. I definitely need a new word. I can't say exhausted, that has been over used. There is run-down, worn-out, weary. . . that's a good one. I could start telling people I'm weary. I doubt they'd say they were weary too. Weary could mean physical or emotional. Weary does sound like I might collapse as if on a long journey. I'll try it. . . or I'll lie and say I'm fine.
I'm thankful God came for the weary.
During my radiation treatment when I fought falling asleep in the car or went to bed at 6:30 in the evening, someone asked how I was doing. I answered that I was tired. I said it with deep meaning (in my mind). They shut me down by saying they were tired too. They said everyone was tired. I realized I needed a new word. My tired today is not the same word I used before cancer or MS.
Today's tired is deep in my bones, yes, my bones are tired. My eyes are weary from forcing themselves open all day. If I relax, I will sleep. I pull and push myself around all day so that by the end of the day I have worn every part of myself out.
I'm not sure today's tired compares with "having a baby" tired or "running after toddlers" tired. I think most of that was physical. Today's tired is mind, body, spirit tired. I definitely need a new word. I can't say exhausted, that has been over used. There is run-down, worn-out, weary. . . that's a good one. I could start telling people I'm weary. I doubt they'd say they were weary too. Weary could mean physical or emotional. Weary does sound like I might collapse as if on a long journey. I'll try it. . . or I'll lie and say I'm fine.
I'm thankful God came for the weary.
Friday, September 22, 2017
Pink Story: Find the Right Place for a "But"
I'm getting better. My balloon face is gone. The wrinkles are in full effect just like a deflated balloon with its stretched out wrinkles. My body is trying to heal the damage done to my breast and the surrounding areas from surgery and radiation. The healing is painful, but I'm thankful it's healing.
I realized, if I let it, this experience of cancer, surgery, radiation treatment and everything else that entailed has taught me to be eons less concerned with perfection than I previously was.
First, I was weak and tired from pneumonia. I couldn't keep up with the house. I was sore and limited from surgery, I couldn't do anything around the house. People would come over and see dirt and clutter when in the past I would have cleaned it up.
Second, radiation and its mandatory no bra, no shaving the armpit, swollen breast era made me way less concerned about my appearance. I dressed in layers, didn't look as thin and definitely didn't have a flattering figure.
Finally, the allergic era, it took away all vanity about my face. When your face resembles a puffer fish, your eyes are playing peek-a-boo, and in the healing process you peel like a sunburnt elephant, one begins to be less concerned about one's looks.
Perhaps after all this, I will be more relaxed, less vain and more gracious with myself. Perhaps I will have learned something if I don't forget my lessons. I feel that I'm at a place where I could easily choose the thankful path. In all things there is something to complain and whine about, but there is equally something to be thankful for. I can always be thankful no matter the situation that my face has not become a party decoration. I can always be thankful I am not in burning, fire-y pain. I can always be thankful for people who love and care for me. I can be thankful for my home, my transportation, my dogs. I can be thankful I can walk, see, hear, speak, and feel. No matter the situation there is much to be thankful for.
I know this has been preached before. I don't think most of us believe it. I think we say, "I know, I should be thankful for . . ." But really, we feel better when we get to complain in the moment. We get annoyed with people who say, "at least you're not . . ." What does that annoying-ness do to our disposition. We become cranky old farts at the age of 40 and all our friends stay away. Or, we find the silver lining and sing about it like a Disney princess making everyone think we've turned into a cartoon character. I don't know anyone who hates cartoons as a rule.
Perhaps being a positive, thankful, whimsical cartoon character is equivalent to having a joyful, light-hearted attitude. I want to remember this. My face itches, but I'm so glad its not 5 times bigger. My boob hurts, but I'm so thankful I have no more radiation treatments. My house is filthy, but I'm thankful my family doesn't really care.
I was told once the word, "but," erases everything you said before it. Usually people say, "I love you, but . . ." I'm going to do it the other way around. I don't have to be blind to reality, I can recognize it and yet, choose to focus on the amazing. For example, sometimes life can be shitty, but I'm glad I'm alive. What a great place to put a "but."
I realized, if I let it, this experience of cancer, surgery, radiation treatment and everything else that entailed has taught me to be eons less concerned with perfection than I previously was.
First, I was weak and tired from pneumonia. I couldn't keep up with the house. I was sore and limited from surgery, I couldn't do anything around the house. People would come over and see dirt and clutter when in the past I would have cleaned it up.
Second, radiation and its mandatory no bra, no shaving the armpit, swollen breast era made me way less concerned about my appearance. I dressed in layers, didn't look as thin and definitely didn't have a flattering figure.
Finally, the allergic era, it took away all vanity about my face. When your face resembles a puffer fish, your eyes are playing peek-a-boo, and in the healing process you peel like a sunburnt elephant, one begins to be less concerned about one's looks.
Perhaps after all this, I will be more relaxed, less vain and more gracious with myself. Perhaps I will have learned something if I don't forget my lessons. I feel that I'm at a place where I could easily choose the thankful path. In all things there is something to complain and whine about, but there is equally something to be thankful for. I can always be thankful no matter the situation that my face has not become a party decoration. I can always be thankful I am not in burning, fire-y pain. I can always be thankful for people who love and care for me. I can be thankful for my home, my transportation, my dogs. I can be thankful I can walk, see, hear, speak, and feel. No matter the situation there is much to be thankful for.
I know this has been preached before. I don't think most of us believe it. I think we say, "I know, I should be thankful for . . ." But really, we feel better when we get to complain in the moment. We get annoyed with people who say, "at least you're not . . ." What does that annoying-ness do to our disposition. We become cranky old farts at the age of 40 and all our friends stay away. Or, we find the silver lining and sing about it like a Disney princess making everyone think we've turned into a cartoon character. I don't know anyone who hates cartoons as a rule.
Perhaps being a positive, thankful, whimsical cartoon character is equivalent to having a joyful, light-hearted attitude. I want to remember this. My face itches, but I'm so glad its not 5 times bigger. My boob hurts, but I'm so thankful I have no more radiation treatments. My house is filthy, but I'm thankful my family doesn't really care.
I was told once the word, "but," erases everything you said before it. Usually people say, "I love you, but . . ." I'm going to do it the other way around. I don't have to be blind to reality, I can recognize it and yet, choose to focus on the amazing. For example, sometimes life can be shitty, but I'm glad I'm alive. What a great place to put a "but."
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
Power Outage
The power is out. It is January 21, 2013. It has been out since 4:00 am. Three and half hours later and we are still huddled in front of the fire surrounded by candles. School has been cancelled. The power is out there also and it is below 20 degrees outside.
I am grateful for the day home. The only thing I really miss is my coffee. There is no hum of electricity. There are no bright lights from the gas station signs down the street, we are in no hurry to turn on television or computers. It is immensely peaceful. Of course, any place more than 20 feet from the wood stove is freezing so we are finding things to do by the fire.
This power outage makes me think, like all power outages do, is all our stuff really necessary? Is it really progress? Let's just take phones, for example. Before phones there was mail. If you wanted to speak with someone you sat down, wrote a letter, placed a stamp on it and took it to the post office. In a few days your message would reach its recipient. They would write you a letter in return. About a week from the sending of your letter, you received a response.
The alternative to letter writing was putting on your shoes and coat and going to that person's house. They would stop what they were doing, you would both have some coffee and chat for a while. When your visit was finished, you would go home.
Both of these means of communication took time and effort. One had to make a conscious effort to get in touch with a friend.
Today, there is minimal effort. You can call while you are driving, you can text during a meeting, you can send out one blanket message that all your friends can see at once.
There are benefits to today's communication technology. I love being able to call my mom or far away friends anytime. The speed and ease with which I can get in touch with someone is wonderful. Using the new technology doesn't mean I need to throw out the old. I shouldn't forget to write letters to friends or to visit friends' homes. Taking time and effort to show someone you care still holds value. Just because I texted good morning doesn't mean I'm keeping in touch. Time and effort. Anything worth anything or anybody worth anything deserves time and effort.
We spend hours every day watching television. What could we accomplish task-wise or relationship-wise if we turned the television off? What great things could we add to our lives if we did instead of watched?
The real question is, am I willing to give up these conveniences? Am I willing to do the hard work of living without distraction? How much more life would I live? How much more joy would I have? How much more peace would I find?
I am grateful for the day home. The only thing I really miss is my coffee. There is no hum of electricity. There are no bright lights from the gas station signs down the street, we are in no hurry to turn on television or computers. It is immensely peaceful. Of course, any place more than 20 feet from the wood stove is freezing so we are finding things to do by the fire.
This power outage makes me think, like all power outages do, is all our stuff really necessary? Is it really progress? Let's just take phones, for example. Before phones there was mail. If you wanted to speak with someone you sat down, wrote a letter, placed a stamp on it and took it to the post office. In a few days your message would reach its recipient. They would write you a letter in return. About a week from the sending of your letter, you received a response.
The alternative to letter writing was putting on your shoes and coat and going to that person's house. They would stop what they were doing, you would both have some coffee and chat for a while. When your visit was finished, you would go home.
Both of these means of communication took time and effort. One had to make a conscious effort to get in touch with a friend.
Today, there is minimal effort. You can call while you are driving, you can text during a meeting, you can send out one blanket message that all your friends can see at once.
There are benefits to today's communication technology. I love being able to call my mom or far away friends anytime. The speed and ease with which I can get in touch with someone is wonderful. Using the new technology doesn't mean I need to throw out the old. I shouldn't forget to write letters to friends or to visit friends' homes. Taking time and effort to show someone you care still holds value. Just because I texted good morning doesn't mean I'm keeping in touch. Time and effort. Anything worth anything or anybody worth anything deserves time and effort.
We spend hours every day watching television. What could we accomplish task-wise or relationship-wise if we turned the television off? What great things could we add to our lives if we did instead of watched?
The real question is, am I willing to give up these conveniences? Am I willing to do the hard work of living without distraction? How much more life would I live? How much more joy would I have? How much more peace would I find?
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