This week was Appointment Week yet again. Inventor took me down, as DH had travelled the road on Monday and found it challenging. No one wanted me to overdo. It was a wise decision. The 10 mile stretch through the canyon was inundated with snow. When we pulled over to take some pictures, the snow on the road was up to the headlights of the 4WD.
My plastic surgeon's office is delighted with my recovery. They dropped all restrictions and gave me the green light to do whatever I want, so long it doesn't hurt, for the next six weeks. Hooray! I will see them the middle of April and my second OP surgery will be schedule at that time. Then it will be six more weeks of Silvadene creme and dressings. Hopefully that will all be done by Harpist's birthday backpack trip. She's planning a 24 mile weekend adventure I fear.
Dr. T, my naturopath, is happy with what I'm doing, after reviewing everything she's recommended some additional items to keep in my cancer fighting arsenal. Which means more research for me.
The garlic and honey continues to flow. Inventor says to tell our MI friends their experiment really works. The house REEEEKS. I've declared all raw garlic off limits tomorrow as church is going to be here. Cat Lover and Rocket are well on the recovery road. Harpist is using peppermint poultices on her face and charcoal poultices on her ears. They seem to be helping more than meds. I've threated to take her picture, but she gives me that look. The cats love her peppermint poultices so much she made each of them a mint pillow. You'd have thought we'd given them catnip. It's been hilarious to watch.
Since I have a six week break, I've decided to use it to focus on postings more reflective in nature and to update portions of other pages on this blog. Look for a weekly posting on some aspect of this process. DH and I originally decided to start this blog so everyone who wanted an update could get one easily. It has worked so well! It's also been therapy for me. Thank you for reading my therapy.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Silver Linings
Cancer is a club no one wants to join, but when you drafted for membership, you find you're in pretty good company!
A friend with significant cancer experience emailed to tell me my hunch about cancer was correct. Once you've been diagnosed, life is different. I'm blessed, cancer means a changed body and future vigilance. For others it lurks around the corners of life in different ways. For one family member it is living daily with a cancer that must be monitored much like diabetes to see if medical intervention is needed. Try planning the next 6 months of your schedule with that always hanging over your head. Every time she gets the phone call with good test results, it means two more months of freedom. For another family member, it is one round of maintenance treatment after another, pushing cancer back so life can go on a little longer, at some point, the treatment options may run out. For you it might be a very valid fear of recurrence. For a friend it might be the struggle with residual effects of treatment on other body systems. Others lose the support of close family and friends who couldn't handle their cancer diagnosis. There may be financial or career challenges that linger for years. For any of us, it's the follow up appointments. It's having to write that 6 letter word on insurance applications and medical history questionnaires. It's remembering all over again when you learn someone else has been diagnosed. Yes, I'm realizing, there are lots of ways cancer hangs around.
From personal observation, cancer patients aren't the only people who deal with long term affects ask anyone who's been through any significant medical, physical or emotional trauma. Change the disease or event and modify the impact statement.
So what intangible "gifts" does a lurking, unpredictable disease with over 200 different identities bring? Are there silver linings? From personal observation and reading the experiences of others, the answer is usually a resounding YES. I've learned in life, a person with hope, even in the most wretched situation, will find some thread of gold.
Hope, what kind of gift is that? Hope is necessary for survival. There's plenty of research to back it up. Cancer brings hope front and center. As a patient, you must confront your hopes in light of your unique situation. Be honest! We all want a "cure", but for many there is no 100% cure. We are not fixing electronics or in the auto repair shop, it's the human body and a lurking disease. Productive hope recognizes the realities of the present and identifies realistic expectations. In my case, I may reasonably hope for total removal of cancer. In your case, you may hope for remission to resume your normal activities for an extended period. Or if you are in the midst of chemo, you may hope for a good weekend with blood counts high enough to enjoy a gathering of family or friends.
New spiritual lessons and insights from the Word of God. I crave my quiet time with my maker like never before. I need His strength for each day, every child, my DH and each decision I make.
The power of prayer, not so much for physical healing, but for healing in other aspects of my life and relationships. I've long recognized that a simple prayer for physical healing, while nice, may not give God enough latitude to work, God wants to heal more than my physical body, He wants to heal me in a thousand other ways as well. I realized I could seek physical healing alone, or I could allow God to work an even greater miracle in my life, yes through the vehicle of cancer. There is a beautiful quote I found that has become precious to me.
"In the full light of day, and in hearing of the music of other voices, the caged bird will not sing the song that his master seeks to teach him. He learns a snatch of this, a trill of that, but never a separate and entire melody. But the master covers the cage, and places it where the bird will listen to the one song he is to sing. In the dark, he tries and tries again to sing that song until it is learned, and he breaks forth in perfect melody. Then the bird is brought forth, and ever after he can sing that song in the light. Thus God deals with His children. He has a song to teach us, and when we have learned it amid the shadows of affliction we can sing it ever afterward." – {HDL 10.3} Ellen White
The blessing of quiet. It is easy to be unnerved by quiet, particularly when dealing with something new and scary. Like a marathon runner, many cancer patients often hear a lot of cheering at the beginning, particular milestones on the way and maybe at the end. Often when you run the cancer race, by the time you get to the finish line, many onlookers have tired of waiting and moved on. If you are the type who always needs noise around you and someone to need you, it may be hard to appreciate the blessing of quiet. Quiet allows time to reassess what is important. Quiet allows time to take care of your self. Quiet allows the noise to settle so you can appreciate the ordinary, a flock of birds, a child's smile, a simple note, reading a book. Oh how I have enjoyed this blessing! Thank you to those who have shouldered my share of the load these past two months so I could learn to truly appreciate the quiet. With my Type A personality, I really needed this blessing.
Appreciation for the here and now. There's a song that I like which says,
"We have this moment to hold in our hands and to touch
As it sifts through our fingers like sand.
Yesterday's gone and tomorrow may never come,
But we have this moment today."
Cancer resets your long term thinking, it brings the present into sharp focus for those far sighted types who always look for the joy in the future. Take joy in the here and now.
A worldview that gives me a framework to understand the big picture of cancer and allows me to read as Paul Harvey used to say, "the rest of the story". I and others who share this worldview can walk this road without anger and bitterness, or fear of the future for we've read the last chapter. What comfort that is to my heart. That is peace.
I do not assume that my readers believe in God. WHY would anyone believe in a loving God who allows _____________ ? That, my friends, is a fair question, but only if you are willing to listen for an answer. I'm contemplating this, life changing events give you a new perspective on the "dry facts". Hmmm I feel another essay coming.
A friend with significant cancer experience emailed to tell me my hunch about cancer was correct. Once you've been diagnosed, life is different. I'm blessed, cancer means a changed body and future vigilance. For others it lurks around the corners of life in different ways. For one family member it is living daily with a cancer that must be monitored much like diabetes to see if medical intervention is needed. Try planning the next 6 months of your schedule with that always hanging over your head. Every time she gets the phone call with good test results, it means two more months of freedom. For another family member, it is one round of maintenance treatment after another, pushing cancer back so life can go on a little longer, at some point, the treatment options may run out. For you it might be a very valid fear of recurrence. For a friend it might be the struggle with residual effects of treatment on other body systems. Others lose the support of close family and friends who couldn't handle their cancer diagnosis. There may be financial or career challenges that linger for years. For any of us, it's the follow up appointments. It's having to write that 6 letter word on insurance applications and medical history questionnaires. It's remembering all over again when you learn someone else has been diagnosed. Yes, I'm realizing, there are lots of ways cancer hangs around.
From personal observation, cancer patients aren't the only people who deal with long term affects ask anyone who's been through any significant medical, physical or emotional trauma. Change the disease or event and modify the impact statement.
So what intangible "gifts" does a lurking, unpredictable disease with over 200 different identities bring? Are there silver linings? From personal observation and reading the experiences of others, the answer is usually a resounding YES. I've learned in life, a person with hope, even in the most wretched situation, will find some thread of gold.
Hope, what kind of gift is that? Hope is necessary for survival. There's plenty of research to back it up. Cancer brings hope front and center. As a patient, you must confront your hopes in light of your unique situation. Be honest! We all want a "cure", but for many there is no 100% cure. We are not fixing electronics or in the auto repair shop, it's the human body and a lurking disease. Productive hope recognizes the realities of the present and identifies realistic expectations. In my case, I may reasonably hope for total removal of cancer. In your case, you may hope for remission to resume your normal activities for an extended period. Or if you are in the midst of chemo, you may hope for a good weekend with blood counts high enough to enjoy a gathering of family or friends.
New spiritual lessons and insights from the Word of God. I crave my quiet time with my maker like never before. I need His strength for each day, every child, my DH and each decision I make.
The power of prayer, not so much for physical healing, but for healing in other aspects of my life and relationships. I've long recognized that a simple prayer for physical healing, while nice, may not give God enough latitude to work, God wants to heal more than my physical body, He wants to heal me in a thousand other ways as well. I realized I could seek physical healing alone, or I could allow God to work an even greater miracle in my life, yes through the vehicle of cancer. There is a beautiful quote I found that has become precious to me.
"In the full light of day, and in hearing of the music of other voices, the caged bird will not sing the song that his master seeks to teach him. He learns a snatch of this, a trill of that, but never a separate and entire melody. But the master covers the cage, and places it where the bird will listen to the one song he is to sing. In the dark, he tries and tries again to sing that song until it is learned, and he breaks forth in perfect melody. Then the bird is brought forth, and ever after he can sing that song in the light. Thus God deals with His children. He has a song to teach us, and when we have learned it amid the shadows of affliction we can sing it ever afterward." – {HDL 10.3} Ellen White
The blessing of quiet. It is easy to be unnerved by quiet, particularly when dealing with something new and scary. Like a marathon runner, many cancer patients often hear a lot of cheering at the beginning, particular milestones on the way and maybe at the end. Often when you run the cancer race, by the time you get to the finish line, many onlookers have tired of waiting and moved on. If you are the type who always needs noise around you and someone to need you, it may be hard to appreciate the blessing of quiet. Quiet allows time to reassess what is important. Quiet allows time to take care of your self. Quiet allows the noise to settle so you can appreciate the ordinary, a flock of birds, a child's smile, a simple note, reading a book. Oh how I have enjoyed this blessing! Thank you to those who have shouldered my share of the load these past two months so I could learn to truly appreciate the quiet. With my Type A personality, I really needed this blessing.
Appreciation for the here and now. There's a song that I like which says,
"We have this moment to hold in our hands and to touch
As it sifts through our fingers like sand.
Yesterday's gone and tomorrow may never come,
But we have this moment today."
Cancer resets your long term thinking, it brings the present into sharp focus for those far sighted types who always look for the joy in the future. Take joy in the here and now.
A worldview that gives me a framework to understand the big picture of cancer and allows me to read as Paul Harvey used to say, "the rest of the story". I and others who share this worldview can walk this road without anger and bitterness, or fear of the future for we've read the last chapter. What comfort that is to my heart. That is peace.
I do not assume that my readers believe in God. WHY would anyone believe in a loving God who allows _____________ ? That, my friends, is a fair question, but only if you are willing to listen for an answer. I'm contemplating this, life changing events give you a new perspective on the "dry facts". Hmmm I feel another essay coming.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Cabin Fever, Elephants and more healing
It is snowing again, yesterday (Sabbath) we enjoyed intermittent heavy snow and beautiful sunshine. We planned to spend the day worshiping with our dear church family across the mountains. Alas, Cat Lover's bug proved contagious to Harpist and Rocket. So with three hacking, wheezing, low energy children, we decided not to reintroduce the bug to the general population. Many thanks to our friends for being realistic about when we'd truly be back at church. I tend to be too optimistic when major things come along.
It seems my only malady at the moment is a growing case of cabin fever. A town day this week with three doc appointments should fix that and send me scurrying for home. Since there is a town day this week, today is a school day. Given all the interruptions this school year, it is amazing the progress some of the children are making. We are doing school every day possible during this quiet lull. The quiet ends Tuesday and life starts to pick up steam according to our family calendar. Every quiet day we get from now to the middle of April is to be cherished.
In the mail Friday, came a package from someone DH talks about frequently, but whom I've never met. It contained a sweet note and a book written by a friend of hers. If you are a cancer patient, family member or have a friend with cancer, I recommend this book. Titled, The Elephant in the Room (Bob Riter) it is a down to earth, practical book about dealing with cancer. I've laughed, cried and said "that is so true" all at the same time. Bob writes from the dual perspective of cancer patient and cancer patient advocate. It's a unique combination that adds perspective to the journey.
Some more portions of life are returning to normal. My range of motion is probably close to 100%. My energy level allows routine daily activities as long as I do not put to many of them in one day. For those who know me well, this is highly unusual behavior. I love to find my limits and then stttrrreeetttcccchhhh them. Not this time. Inventor told me the other day I was becoming more "laid back". I actually took it as a complement!
The swelling under my arms and over the implants continues to decrease. My arms say they are tired of sticking out at odd angles to accommodate swelling, but the mirror doesn't totally agree with their assessment. My arm regular arm exercises provide the most relief.
Speaking of sensation observations, my chest skin is mostly numb. This was expected, but nonetheless must be dealt with. In some areas I can feel touch, but in most areas all I can discern is pressure. It is the same under my left arm where the lymph node biopsy was done. At least the shooting nerve pains are now few and far between and the muscle spasms are dying down. A cancer sister who is year ahead of me says more changes and sensations are to come. My left incision finally stopped draining, which means the incision is fully closed now. I think those pesky 5 inch incisions look really good, you'd probably disagree. But I compared them to the pics from the week of surgery, and trust me, they look great! The two incisions I'm not so happy about are the lymph node biopsy site and one of the drainage tube sites. I'll see what Dr. N has to say about them. She'll probably tell me to be patient. (Not one of my better virtues.)
A friend motivated me to get started on the nutritional aspect of my cancer follow up this week. I look forward to sharing more ideas with her. I've also been given the green light (by my doc) to take off a little more weight. I even have a deadline! Thanks to the friend who pointed me to a safe and healthy way I can do that weight loss without interfering with my healing.
I am now walking the children 2 times a day and DH is usually walking me in the evenings. The purpose of his walk is to improve my endurance. We also enjoy the talk time, the quiet snowy road and just the chance to hold hands. Cancer brings a deeper appreciation for enjoying the journey and not just looking forward to the destination. Hmmm...that thought might become an essay.
It seems my only malady at the moment is a growing case of cabin fever. A town day this week with three doc appointments should fix that and send me scurrying for home. Since there is a town day this week, today is a school day. Given all the interruptions this school year, it is amazing the progress some of the children are making. We are doing school every day possible during this quiet lull. The quiet ends Tuesday and life starts to pick up steam according to our family calendar. Every quiet day we get from now to the middle of April is to be cherished.
In the mail Friday, came a package from someone DH talks about frequently, but whom I've never met. It contained a sweet note and a book written by a friend of hers. If you are a cancer patient, family member or have a friend with cancer, I recommend this book. Titled, The Elephant in the Room (Bob Riter) it is a down to earth, practical book about dealing with cancer. I've laughed, cried and said "that is so true" all at the same time. Bob writes from the dual perspective of cancer patient and cancer patient advocate. It's a unique combination that adds perspective to the journey.
Some more portions of life are returning to normal. My range of motion is probably close to 100%. My energy level allows routine daily activities as long as I do not put to many of them in one day. For those who know me well, this is highly unusual behavior. I love to find my limits and then stttrrreeetttcccchhhh them. Not this time. Inventor told me the other day I was becoming more "laid back". I actually took it as a complement!
The swelling under my arms and over the implants continues to decrease. My arms say they are tired of sticking out at odd angles to accommodate swelling, but the mirror doesn't totally agree with their assessment. My arm regular arm exercises provide the most relief.
Speaking of sensation observations, my chest skin is mostly numb. This was expected, but nonetheless must be dealt with. In some areas I can feel touch, but in most areas all I can discern is pressure. It is the same under my left arm where the lymph node biopsy was done. At least the shooting nerve pains are now few and far between and the muscle spasms are dying down. A cancer sister who is year ahead of me says more changes and sensations are to come. My left incision finally stopped draining, which means the incision is fully closed now. I think those pesky 5 inch incisions look really good, you'd probably disagree. But I compared them to the pics from the week of surgery, and trust me, they look great! The two incisions I'm not so happy about are the lymph node biopsy site and one of the drainage tube sites. I'll see what Dr. N has to say about them. She'll probably tell me to be patient. (Not one of my better virtues.)
A friend motivated me to get started on the nutritional aspect of my cancer follow up this week. I look forward to sharing more ideas with her. I've also been given the green light (by my doc) to take off a little more weight. I even have a deadline! Thanks to the friend who pointed me to a safe and healthy way I can do that weight loss without interfering with my healing.
I am now walking the children 2 times a day and DH is usually walking me in the evenings. The purpose of his walk is to improve my endurance. We also enjoy the talk time, the quiet snowy road and just the chance to hold hands. Cancer brings a deeper appreciation for enjoying the journey and not just looking forward to the destination. Hmmm...that thought might become an essay.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Mom on Duty
One of our biggest blessings this winter is good health (other than I flunked my physical last fall). Staying healthy involves every member of the family particularly when you live in close quarters and someone needs to have major surgery with all the accompanying risks.
Inventor had a touch of a cold the week of Christmas. He downed so much raw garlic I couldn't stand to be in the same room with him. Then we had an ambulance run with Grandpa, and the 5 hour drive to take them home, once the docs released him to travel. Inventor, myself, Grandpa and Grandma crammed into the cab of their pickup. Oh let me tell you it reeked. But it worked, he fought off his cold and praise the Lord, neither of us picked up anything on the train ride home with people hacking and wheezing all around us. The rest of the children and DH do their best to stay healthy, garlic, vitamins, fruit and green veggies and mostly avoiding sugar. A month of mostly self imposed isolation in our valley didn't hurt either.
But 3:30 Sabbath morning, Rocket sounded the alarm. MOM! Cat Lover is sick! Bleary eyed, Dh and I rolled out bed. Rocket led me to his brother's bedside, excitedly reviewing all the symptoms he'd observed. Sure enough, chills, sore throat, temp of 101.5, and raspy breathing. Rocket roused Inventor and Harpist from their slumbers and pressed them into service. I requested boiling water of Harpist, a tent design from Inventor, and extra blankets and the heating pad from Rocket. Such assistence at 3 am I never had when they were little! After doing all we could to make our patient comfortable, I commandeered Rocket's bed next to the patient and sent him back to bed with DH. Not so much because of the patient's condition, but unless I did, none of us would get any sleep. Rocket would provide "play by play" analysis until dawn if I left him at his post of duty.
As I carefully climbed into Rocket's bed, I thanked the Lord this hadn't happened sooner. At least I'm at a place recovery wise where I can at direct care for others. (Fevers and stomach flu are my specialities,DH handles blood and guts.) Cat Lover will recover this week and hopefully no one else will pick up his bug.
DH sent me to church at the neighbor's while he spent a quiet Sabbath home with Cat Lover. It was a silver lining on a gray cloud for both of us. He needed a quiet day for reflection as he was very tired while the children and I needed the fellowship of dear friends and believers to recharge. We all were blessed. DH and I even got our evening walk in together.
Sabbaths and town days still wear me out though. My body said NO MORE today. Two walks and two loads of laundry did me in. The recliner called and I answered. I'm not complaining, just coming to grips with the fact that my body is taking its own sweet time to heal. Thankfully, my family and friends graciously accomodate my reduced activity tolerance.ord choose to be grateful for the opportunity to view life from a different perspective. It helps me appreciate the path of those who suffer more than I. So take advantage of unwanted learning opportunities when they come your way. Choose to find the silver lining in the midst of worry, physical limitations and frustrations, it won't remove the bumps in the road, but it can add a little cushion to them.
And yes, the place reeks of raw garlic. The other three children are consuming even larger quantities regularly. Clothespin please.
Inventor had a touch of a cold the week of Christmas. He downed so much raw garlic I couldn't stand to be in the same room with him. Then we had an ambulance run with Grandpa, and the 5 hour drive to take them home, once the docs released him to travel. Inventor, myself, Grandpa and Grandma crammed into the cab of their pickup. Oh let me tell you it reeked. But it worked, he fought off his cold and praise the Lord, neither of us picked up anything on the train ride home with people hacking and wheezing all around us. The rest of the children and DH do their best to stay healthy, garlic, vitamins, fruit and green veggies and mostly avoiding sugar. A month of mostly self imposed isolation in our valley didn't hurt either.
But 3:30 Sabbath morning, Rocket sounded the alarm. MOM! Cat Lover is sick! Bleary eyed, Dh and I rolled out bed. Rocket led me to his brother's bedside, excitedly reviewing all the symptoms he'd observed. Sure enough, chills, sore throat, temp of 101.5, and raspy breathing. Rocket roused Inventor and Harpist from their slumbers and pressed them into service. I requested boiling water of Harpist, a tent design from Inventor, and extra blankets and the heating pad from Rocket. Such assistence at 3 am I never had when they were little! After doing all we could to make our patient comfortable, I commandeered Rocket's bed next to the patient and sent him back to bed with DH. Not so much because of the patient's condition, but unless I did, none of us would get any sleep. Rocket would provide "play by play" analysis until dawn if I left him at his post of duty.
As I carefully climbed into Rocket's bed, I thanked the Lord this hadn't happened sooner. At least I'm at a place recovery wise where I can at direct care for others. (Fevers and stomach flu are my specialities,DH handles blood and guts.) Cat Lover will recover this week and hopefully no one else will pick up his bug.
DH sent me to church at the neighbor's while he spent a quiet Sabbath home with Cat Lover. It was a silver lining on a gray cloud for both of us. He needed a quiet day for reflection as he was very tired while the children and I needed the fellowship of dear friends and believers to recharge. We all were blessed. DH and I even got our evening walk in together.
Sabbaths and town days still wear me out though. My body said NO MORE today. Two walks and two loads of laundry did me in. The recliner called and I answered. I'm not complaining, just coming to grips with the fact that my body is taking its own sweet time to heal. Thankfully, my family and friends graciously accomodate my reduced activity tolerance.ord choose to be grateful for the opportunity to view life from a different perspective. It helps me appreciate the path of those who suffer more than I. So take advantage of unwanted learning opportunities when they come your way. Choose to find the silver lining in the midst of worry, physical limitations and frustrations, it won't remove the bumps in the road, but it can add a little cushion to them.
And yes, the place reeks of raw garlic. The other three children are consuming even larger quantities regularly. Clothespin please.
Friday, February 10, 2012
A Happily Boring Week
After recovering from last weekend's outing, we gratefully stayed home. Traveling to town multiple times almost every week for 2 1/2 months gets old quickly. Recovery continues to go well. Regular exercise reduces my swelling under the arms an added benefit of regaining mobility. Twelve weeks of exercises should improve my upper arms too! I've still had some discharge from a portion of one incision. After a careful review of my instructions, I called Dr. Ns office today. The PA is wonderful, I emailed pics and she told me there is one small area where the skin is still not completely closed. You would probably think my incisions look terrible, but she thinks they look great and I agree, after all the other clinical photos I've seen. Whew, even though I didn't have classic symptoms, we were both concerned about infection. Thank You Lord!
I'm enjoying 2-3 walks a day. Different ones take me for my exercise and it's fun to look for animal tracks. So far this week,we've seen moose, coyote, rabbit and mountain lion track on the driveway. DH and I enjoy walking together at the end of a day. We return home about sunset and if it's clear, we take in gorgeous views of the mountains across the valley. Making time for these walks is well worth it!
Cancer, if you let it, helps you savor the moments you have. I am blessed with a good outcome today. I'm told my tomorrows look bright. I do not take my future for granted. Cancer is UGLY, just in case you hadn't heard. We have family and friends who walk this road, some will live to tell their stories,for others the path is less clear. None of us knows what tomorrow holds. DH and I each lost a member of our family this week. It's a time for reflection, a time to make life special for others, to brighten the journey of one who struggles.
I appreciate the little things more, an email from a friend, a note,a smile, sweet helpfulness, a great memory, a good laugh. I'm also reprioritizing my days, mornings are spent in the recliner. It's the time for tutoring the math challenges faced by Inventor, or grading a pile of writing assignments from Harpist brings a quiet joy. Rocket requuires assistance with reading and english as he squirms and bounces on the sofa beside me. Cat Lover needs the proverbial "kick in the seat of his pants" to do his English. Together, we discovered the wonders of Komodo Island with its pink beaches and huge dragon lizards. I'm contemplating ways to make English and Grammar 3 dimensional for boy minds. HMMM. As Cat Lover was bemoaning the parts of speech, we pulled put the Legos and illustrated the importance of having more than one type of block, particularly if you wish to build something interesting...like a cherry picker.
The work is getting done without me. Rocket loves to be in charge, what better way to do that than to authoritatively order Harpist out of the kitchen so he could be in charge of fixing lunch. Not bad for a nine year old. Harpist appreciates the assistance, but is a tad leery of turning the reins over entirely. Cat Lover creates wonderful breads and cookies when required, his love of accomplishment almost outweighs his dislike for chores! Inventor makes our soy milk and Rocket makes the margarine..as long as I clean the blender.
I read some of my posts to the family for the first time tonight. They all rolled their eyes at their nicknames, but they all wanted to know what I'd said about them. Harpist played several favorite arrangements of hymns. Sabbath arrived on quiet feet. We rest from our labors.
I'm enjoying 2-3 walks a day. Different ones take me for my exercise and it's fun to look for animal tracks. So far this week,we've seen moose, coyote, rabbit and mountain lion track on the driveway. DH and I enjoy walking together at the end of a day. We return home about sunset and if it's clear, we take in gorgeous views of the mountains across the valley. Making time for these walks is well worth it!
Cancer, if you let it, helps you savor the moments you have. I am blessed with a good outcome today. I'm told my tomorrows look bright. I do not take my future for granted. Cancer is UGLY, just in case you hadn't heard. We have family and friends who walk this road, some will live to tell their stories,for others the path is less clear. None of us knows what tomorrow holds. DH and I each lost a member of our family this week. It's a time for reflection, a time to make life special for others, to brighten the journey of one who struggles.
I appreciate the little things more, an email from a friend, a note,a smile, sweet helpfulness, a great memory, a good laugh. I'm also reprioritizing my days, mornings are spent in the recliner. It's the time for tutoring the math challenges faced by Inventor, or grading a pile of writing assignments from Harpist brings a quiet joy. Rocket requuires assistance with reading and english as he squirms and bounces on the sofa beside me. Cat Lover needs the proverbial "kick in the seat of his pants" to do his English. Together, we discovered the wonders of Komodo Island with its pink beaches and huge dragon lizards. I'm contemplating ways to make English and Grammar 3 dimensional for boy minds. HMMM. As Cat Lover was bemoaning the parts of speech, we pulled put the Legos and illustrated the importance of having more than one type of block, particularly if you wish to build something interesting...like a cherry picker.
The work is getting done without me. Rocket loves to be in charge, what better way to do that than to authoritatively order Harpist out of the kitchen so he could be in charge of fixing lunch. Not bad for a nine year old. Harpist appreciates the assistance, but is a tad leery of turning the reins over entirely. Cat Lover creates wonderful breads and cookies when required, his love of accomplishment almost outweighs his dislike for chores! Inventor makes our soy milk and Rocket makes the margarine..as long as I clean the blender.
I read some of my posts to the family for the first time tonight. They all rolled their eyes at their nicknames, but they all wanted to know what I'd said about them. Harpist played several favorite arrangements of hymns. Sabbath arrived on quiet feet. We rest from our labors.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Ohhhhh I'm sooooooo tired.
It seems the effects of a fun filled weekend caught up to me today. Church, youth activities, a walk in the park with friends and LOTS of lively boys. A good nights rest and scrumptious breakfast at a friends before heading into a town day. We all were worn out by the time we got home.
Ok,ok, with my personality, the concept of a nap during daylight hours seems almost sinful and with 3 lively boys, it is sleep at your own risk. I'm parked in my recliner with my feet up, encouraging, tutoring and resting. I'm still enjoying this new order of business. It's been good for all of us. Rocket took me on my morning walk and the Inventor took me on my afternoon walk. When we got back, his siblings had done his dishes for him and were busily doing their own chores. He needed that today, and it encouraged my heart greatly too.
Now my DH (coach) is ready to take me on my 3rd walk of the day. Gotta run...wouldn't miss this time for anything. :)
Ok,ok, with my personality, the concept of a nap during daylight hours seems almost sinful and with 3 lively boys, it is sleep at your own risk. I'm parked in my recliner with my feet up, encouraging, tutoring and resting. I'm still enjoying this new order of business. It's been good for all of us. Rocket took me on my morning walk and the Inventor took me on my afternoon walk. When we got back, his siblings had done his dishes for him and were busily doing their own chores. He needed that today, and it encouraged my heart greatly too.
Now my DH (coach) is ready to take me on my 3rd walk of the day. Gotta run...wouldn't miss this time for anything. :)
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Musings on a Canyon Road
Our drive to civilization takes us 35+ miles down a remote gravel road. The road turns abruptly away from the wide open, beautiful valley and follows a narrow gap between mountain ridges and then drops down to follow the winding river. The road is roughest through this area and the snow deepens considerably through portions of the route.
How often the journey of life mirrors this portion of our trip. I can focus on the winding, potholed road, hills scarred by forest fires and the deep snows, or I can chose to look up and see the lightening sky, the silhouettes of the mountain ranges, the beauty of the swift flowing river, and a thousand diamonds in the snow banks. You know, if it hadn't been for the forest fires, I wouldn't be able to see the long range beauty of the mountain peaks.
Whenever I drive this road headed home and "pop" through that gap into the broad valley with its majestic peaks, I want to sing "How Great Thou Art!" But when I'm headed from the broad valley into the canyon, I naturally brace myself for the journey. God is patiently teaching me to sing, "How Great Thou Art" which ever direction I drive on this road. I desire this experience in my life: to praise the Lord in all things, to rejoice in the evidences of His care rather than be dragged down by the assaults of the devil. I've spent many years focused on the assaults of the devil. The Lord's shown me that and over the past several years, he's been teaching me to sing a new song, a song of faith.
The road climbs out of the canyon, morning light tinges the sky, God is faithful.
How often the journey of life mirrors this portion of our trip. I can focus on the winding, potholed road, hills scarred by forest fires and the deep snows, or I can chose to look up and see the lightening sky, the silhouettes of the mountain ranges, the beauty of the swift flowing river, and a thousand diamonds in the snow banks. You know, if it hadn't been for the forest fires, I wouldn't be able to see the long range beauty of the mountain peaks.
Whenever I drive this road headed home and "pop" through that gap into the broad valley with its majestic peaks, I want to sing "How Great Thou Art!" But when I'm headed from the broad valley into the canyon, I naturally brace myself for the journey. God is patiently teaching me to sing, "How Great Thou Art" which ever direction I drive on this road. I desire this experience in my life: to praise the Lord in all things, to rejoice in the evidences of His care rather than be dragged down by the assaults of the devil. I've spent many years focused on the assaults of the devil. The Lord's shown me that and over the past several years, he's been teaching me to sing a new song, a song of faith.
The road climbs out of the canyon, morning light tinges the sky, God is faithful.
A Good Week
It's early Sabbath morning. The children have loaded the car in record time for our 2 1/2 hour drive to church. This is our first Sabbath since surgery and we are eager to fellowship with our 2nd church family again. Last night I received a call from a cancer sister. She too will be worshipping with us today and we will actually get to met for the first time. We're both excited! It is a full day and the family is concerned that I not over do my first big outing. I shall do my best to be careful. :)
I can tell the children are excited. They are chattering in the back which is not something they normally do at this time of morning. Orchestra chatter, golf cart adventurers, the temperature (-1) to (-8) depending on where we are, and the effects thereof on diesel engines are all mixed up.
Thankfully the main gravel road we travel was snow plowed to perfection this week. It is like driving on pavement which will ease the wear and tear on all of us. This only holds true for short periods during the winter so I am very grateful.
This week began the exercise portion of recovery. I praise the Lord for the progress made. My arm extension improved about 6-8 inches. I learned yesterday, the importance of doing them at intervals during the day. I didn't get them done in the morning and by afternoon, I was feeling vey swollen under my arms again. So I know, as uncomfortable as the exercises may be, they are important to reducing swelling and lymphedemia. The children continue to exercise me twice daily and my distance is improving. Because of the wintery conditions in our area, snowboots are a necessity and I pay close attention to where I step.
Most mastectomies performed today are not the radical mastectomies many remember from a few years ago. The techniques used today most often allow for the sparing of muscle tissue which greatly reduces the recovery time and leaves patients with the ability to regain their full range of motion within a matter of weeks. Personally I am grateful to all the medical research that has allowed for such tremendous changes in techniques. It's made a big difference in my care and recovery.
Making it back to bed on a full time basis is the second major accomplishment of the week. I finally decided to tough it out and it took several nights of interrupted sleep, but now I'm only waking up once or twice to change position which is getting easier all the time. One night, as I gingerly arranged myself in bed, I lay the talking with the Lord. It dawned on me that for the first time, I'd had a couple of minute that actually felt "normal". That gave me hope that eventually life will not only look normal, but feel normal too.
This was our first week since November without a two hour trip to town. We all thoroughly enjoyed the break, so we home schooled Sunday to Friday. We also enjoyed our resident mamma moose and calf. They don't seem to mind our activity and just hang out by the old salt lick. We think this mamma is one of the older animals that used to visit the previous owners 5-6 years ago. She goes to the old salt lick locations and hasn't discovered our new ones yet.
The children began planning our trips to see grandparents in other regions of the country this week. This is a healthy sign that life is moving on for them. Ideas to make the trip creative, flow from Inventor's brain when he should be focused on Algebra. The Harpist in concerned with speed and comfort. The Rocket is my worrier and Cat Lover joins which ever side will make the discussion most exciting. Meanwhile DH and I sit at opposite ends of the table and smile at each other. Life is returning to normal.
I can tell the children are excited. They are chattering in the back which is not something they normally do at this time of morning. Orchestra chatter, golf cart adventurers, the temperature (-1) to (-8) depending on where we are, and the effects thereof on diesel engines are all mixed up.
Thankfully the main gravel road we travel was snow plowed to perfection this week. It is like driving on pavement which will ease the wear and tear on all of us. This only holds true for short periods during the winter so I am very grateful.
This week began the exercise portion of recovery. I praise the Lord for the progress made. My arm extension improved about 6-8 inches. I learned yesterday, the importance of doing them at intervals during the day. I didn't get them done in the morning and by afternoon, I was feeling vey swollen under my arms again. So I know, as uncomfortable as the exercises may be, they are important to reducing swelling and lymphedemia. The children continue to exercise me twice daily and my distance is improving. Because of the wintery conditions in our area, snowboots are a necessity and I pay close attention to where I step.
Most mastectomies performed today are not the radical mastectomies many remember from a few years ago. The techniques used today most often allow for the sparing of muscle tissue which greatly reduces the recovery time and leaves patients with the ability to regain their full range of motion within a matter of weeks. Personally I am grateful to all the medical research that has allowed for such tremendous changes in techniques. It's made a big difference in my care and recovery.
Making it back to bed on a full time basis is the second major accomplishment of the week. I finally decided to tough it out and it took several nights of interrupted sleep, but now I'm only waking up once or twice to change position which is getting easier all the time. One night, as I gingerly arranged myself in bed, I lay the talking with the Lord. It dawned on me that for the first time, I'd had a couple of minute that actually felt "normal". That gave me hope that eventually life will not only look normal, but feel normal too.
This was our first week since November without a two hour trip to town. We all thoroughly enjoyed the break, so we home schooled Sunday to Friday. We also enjoyed our resident mamma moose and calf. They don't seem to mind our activity and just hang out by the old salt lick. We think this mamma is one of the older animals that used to visit the previous owners 5-6 years ago. She goes to the old salt lick locations and hasn't discovered our new ones yet.
The children began planning our trips to see grandparents in other regions of the country this week. This is a healthy sign that life is moving on for them. Ideas to make the trip creative, flow from Inventor's brain when he should be focused on Algebra. The Harpist in concerned with speed and comfort. The Rocket is my worrier and Cat Lover joins which ever side will make the discussion most exciting. Meanwhile DH and I sit at opposite ends of the table and smile at each other. Life is returning to normal.
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