Day 23: David and Goliath

I received great news today. My bone marrow biopsy shows no signs of malignancy. Take that cancer!  It was a total fist pump moment. My thoughts and prayers are with my brothers and sisters who also have received news that buoys them and also with those that received news that didn't pump them up. 

News can go either way. 

My thoughts these days have been a lot about the mind-body-spirit connection of my disease. I've been engrossed with the injustice that my body would do this to me when I have spent the last five years altering our environment, food, lifestyle so that we are all healthier and cleaner eaters. I have been so wrapped up in the negativity and injustice of it all. And I've been secretly fearful that the diagnosis would discredit me and my approach to a healthy, Christ-centered lifestyle. Who takes health tips from a cancer patient?

You will, that's who--because there is far more to a healthy life than a diagnosis. This is a blip in time. But when good news comes, we need to celebrate these small victories because they lift us up through the long haul. The better your attitude, the more successful you will be with anything. 

What I have come to learn--a light bulb moment if you will--about this diagnosis is to turn my thinking around about it and my health practices. Instead of thinking that I got cancer even though I practice all these healthy behaviors--how about thinking how strong my body is to defeat this disease. My blood work is amazing. I show no signs of the disease except in my tumors and scans. I have my fitness and my mental strength, great vitals and an amazing can-do attitude (when I haven't buried it under self-pity). Yes, my history of auto-immune disease makes me more susceptible to lymphoma, but this is not anything I can control outside of what I do. It's been insanely frustrating to read all these books about getting away from the Standard American Diet and avoiding processed food, eating clean and organic and avoiding chemicals and pesticides...Etc, etc, etc. Well, I do all this and this still happened.  It can still happen to me or to anyone else In this same position. I'm learning to think of it in terms of how healthy I have made my body to defeat this disease. Over and over again if need be. You see, I am starting from the top of the mountain in facing this disease, not the bottom of this hill. 

Sometimes when we change our mindset about the situations we are in, we can move from feeling defeated to feeling a warrior. Attitude completely determines perception of events. My attitude is bigger than my cancer. Sometimes a positive attitude makes you David over Goliath. 

Day 21: Three Weeks. I Want My Mama

I don't care how big you get in life, there are days that all you want is your mama.  Yesterday was that day for me.  If you've been following my blog, you know I've been having pain since my surgeries.  I really try not to talk about it much because I know all the talk is just plain wearing on both me and my friends.  Who likes the doom and gloomy friend?  So, I keep it in check, or I blog about it.  :)

But regardless, I've been in pain for about two weeks now and I haven't been able to get the pain under control with just Tylenol and ibuprofen.  It's been a vicious cycle.  So I finally gave in on Monday night and upped the ante to Percocet.  I HATE drugs (which, I'm very aware I need to get over in the coming months, but hey--this is an honest blog, I'll never lie to you about what I think and feel).  I took the Percocet as prescribed every four hours by my doc.  And yep, the pain went away.  BUT, it brought with it dizziness, vertigo and hours and hours of being violently ill.  For the life of me, I cannot figure out how people get addicted to Percocet (I know we all have our vices, but....), this crap makes me feel VILE.

Like curl up in a little ball and whimper for your mommy kind of vile.

Which I did.

And I called her and told her I just wanted to hear her voice.  And I think I made her feel bad because she's a mom just like me and she doesn't like her baby hurting anymore than I like having my kids hurt.  We were pitiful together.  She told me how people were amazed at how strong I was.  And I laughed.  I told her, I don't think people would think I'm all that strong if they saw me now.  A pale, shaking, barfing, stooped, shadow of myself.   There was no strong in this picture....a lot of pitiful.  A good bit of whining and a lot of feeling like a little kid that just wants mama to take it all away.

If you've read my book (if not, go buy it here!) you'll know that my mama was one of the greatest formative forces in not only my faith but me as a person.  I love my mama and I'm not afraid to say it.  :)  And when I'm pitiful and not remotely strong, she's the person I call to get a good dose of sympathy or a swift kick in the rear.

I worry a little bit (OK, A LOT), about how I will tolerate the chemo.  I'm a puker (my son gets it from me) and it is sincerely the one side effect that I would choose to avoid at all costs.  It takes like 3 anti-nausea meds to keep me from puking from surgery and that doesn't always work.  I hate to throw up. Because once it starts....it doesn't stop for at least 24 hours.  And I worry that if the Percocet would do this to me, it will be infinitely worse when my system is hit up with something far stronger. 

It is what it is and I won't know till I know...but I'm pretty sure that if it's bad, the first thing I'll want is my mama.