Revealing Grace

This is hard. Each day I battle fear and I hate it. I want to be confident in my healing, but instead I wrestle with anxiety. I fear that I am not healing correctly, that those bruises aren't supposed to be there, that maybe that scar looks funny. I worry that my breathing should be better, that the little pain I feel is something more. I try to distract myself with work, television, and chores, but I still have to remind myself to breathe, to pray, to trust. At one point during recovery I ended up in the ER. I think that shook me. It made me realize that things can go wrong. Thankfully everything ended up fine, but it was a scary few hours. Googling things also does not help. Trust me, if you have cancer or surgery or even a cough, do not google it. The stories out there are awful and definitely not helpful. I hate that I am still so tired. I walk outside with the dog and my chest begins to hurt (probably anxiety) and my breath shortens the farther we stroll. Granted

The worst part about all my cancer stuff is getting my blood drawn. I know, that sounds silly when I've had major surgery and am headed into chemo. But I absolutely cringe and sweat when my blood gets drawn (which is often). I was trying to act nonchalant at the oncology office when they took my preliminary labs last Friday, but I was definitely nervous on the inside. Since I had a mastectomy and lymph nodes removed on my left side, I am not allowed to have blood drawn or my blood pressure taken on that arm, so I let the technician know. "Oh you had the surgery?" she asked. "Yea," I replied, "Two weeks ago today. I had a mastectomy." Her eyes widened. "Girl! You look good!" "Oh man! Thanks for saying that." I replied. She gave me a look that told me she was impressed. As she walked away she said matter-of-factly, "Girl, you don't look like whatchu been through."  This was perhaps the greatest compl

When I worked for Apache Youth Ministries I used to spend the summer leading visiting groups on hikes with our students. Always, as we climbed my favorite mountain, one of the participants would ask me, "Are we almost there?" "Yea!" I would reply, "We are getting really close to the top now." Twenty minutes later, as we were still climbing, I would hear, "What the heck! You said we were almost there!" "We are!" I would exclaim. "Every step forward is one step closer!"  Today, that is where I am at with my breast cancer journey. One step closer, but not quite to the top. As many of you know, I had surgery two weeks ago to remove a cancerous tumor. The surgery went well and had great results. The cancer was Stage 1, the tumor small, margins clear, and my lymph nodes benign. I am healing, regaining movement in my arms, and working on building up my activity. Unfortunately, when I went to my post-op appointments this

I've been trying to decide what to write. For a second I thought I might just never write again. It can be overwhelming when you share stuff. I had surgery on July 6th, but it feels like yesterday. I'm doing well, but its not that simple. I wish this was all simple. Surgery takes a toll on your body, your emotions, your mind. I guess cancer does too. We got good news- Stage 1, clear margins, benign lymph node- so I am excited about that. Many people aren't as lucky as I am to have caught it early. But recovery sucks. Having to need help sucks. Bumps in the road suck. It all just kind of sucks. I try not to complain though. Actually, post-op when I was on tons of morphine in the hospital I repeated three phrases: "I love my life." "God is so good." "I really appreciate you. Thank you for being so good at your job." Apparently even on heavy drugs I want everyone to know that they are great. I have trouble not trying to care

Tomorrow I go in for surgery. It isn't something I can really wrap my mind around. I know how I will wear my hair, what I will pack to come home in, and what time I am supposed to report. But all of my hospital knowledge comes from tv. I've never broken a bone, never had a surgery, never even been very sick. Tomorrow I go in for surgery and I will come out different. The prayer is that I come out cancer free, requiring no further treatment. The prayer is that my body heals in miraculous ways because I am young and otherwise healthy. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. Yet it seems fitting to combine a physical scar with the less visible scars from the difficulties of the last few years. To be honest, the diagnosis didn't surprise me. Extreme and prolonged stress/trauma messes with you, no matter what the surgeon says. I'll be honest. Cancer is a cake walk compared to what I went through last summer. And though I am scared of the hospital, th