How did I get here?

In life, there are roads that we choose to be on and there are roads we happen to come upon. Cancer is never a road that one chooses. We are told that our lifestyle can cause cancer. We are told that things we eat, drink, or are exposed to can cause cancer. We are told that we can develop because other's in our family have had cancer.  My mom never smoked or drank. She exercised and ate healthy. But , she ended up on a road that she was unable to get off of. At the time I found myself on the same road, I didn't smoke or drink. I also exercised and ate pretty healthy. My mom and I had different cancers.

In January of 1993 I was feeling tired and rundown. Isn't that something that normally happens as you get older? Ok , I was only 35 years old. I had a teenager, pre-teen, and 2 year old. I worked full time and did all the running around, taking kids here and there and being involved with things that I thought were important. I never had pain. I never got sick. I wasn't losing weight. One day at work I went to the bathroom and there was blood. A lot of blood. So much that it scared me. I went home right away and called the doctor.

A few days later, I had a doctor's appointment. After an examination my doctor said that he could not find any cause for the bleeding. He thought that perhaps I had a bleeding ulcer or hemorrhoids. As a precaution he was sending me to a Gastroenterologist.

As a society, we are told that at age 50, we need to begin screening for Colon Cancer. 

My first true encounter with . .

. . cancer was through my mother. I had known others who had had cancer, some who had died from it, but no one that was in my daily life.

My mother was one of the most energetic people I have ever known. She had 3 adult children, a high schooler, a middle schooler and 2 grandchildren. She worked, baked wedding cakes, ran a food co-op and was a Sundy School teacher. She helped take care of a sickly nephew and an ill Father-in-Law. Clothes were always clean and meals were never late. Anyone who was in sports was where they needed to be, when they needed to be.

When the weather was nice (we lived in the mid-west), she would walk every morning (around 5am) with a friend . . . before her real day started. One morning in May of 1989, while taking her morning walk, she felt like she could not catch her breath.

 At this time, my parents were looking for a new house, 130 miles away, due to my father's job transfer. Mom had several episodes of feeling like she couldn't catch her breath, but doctor visits had not shown any answers for this. Once they found a house, even before it was purchased, she found a family doctor there and started going for tests.

I'm not sure when it was actually stated that she had cancer. There was never a primary source found. What was happening was fluid was filling the lining of her lungs and cancer cells were found in that fluid. My parent's moved into their new home Father's Day week-end of 1989.

My brother and sister-in-law came from Ohio for a couple of weeks to help my parents get settled in their new home. Once mom started chemo, I was there every week-end for about 5 months. On Friday I would load up my 2 children, dog, and laundry and drive 130 miles. I would spend the week-end cooking and cleaning and visiting with mom and then drive back home, late Sunday night so my children could be in school the next day. This was a great time of bonding. We had tapes that we sang to and we were able to discuss what was going on with Grandma.

The chemotherapy that mom was taking was so strong and the results were so dramatic from week-end to week-end. I remember going one week-end and it had turned her hair white. The following week-end, her hair was all gone. Because we were able to talk about the changes on the way home, my children were never afraid of her or looked at her any differently . . . except when she tried once to wear a wig.

Even with the strong drugs, the lining of her lungs filled rapidly with fluid and she began to have to have it suctioned off weekly. At one point she had a procedure done to help keep blood clots from traveling to her heart. It did not go well and we almost lost her. After that she never regained much strength and was told because of it, the outlook for her recovery was not good.

When the holidays came, my Grandparents came from Arizona to stay with her. Dad had had some health issues and needed someone who could be there all the time to help out. By this time, Mom was so weak and had lost her appetite and had lost a lot of weight. She tried to be so strong. She would say that God was teaching her patience.

All this time I know people were praying for her. As small children we were taught that God will answer your prayer in one of 3 ways, yes . . . no . . . and wait. I truly believe that my Mom lived so long after diagnosis because of those prayers. Some might say that God was not caring to let her go through all she went through. It's strange how narrow our focus can be. It's also amazing to realize the things you take in from the events that form your life.

Spring came early in 1990 and I remember being in my parents front yard when the realization that it was time for Mom's life in this world to be over. I actually prayed that her suffering would end and she would go quickly. I also confessed that I knew it was our (my) selfishness that had kept her here so long. I went home that Sunday night only to be called back 2 days later.

Mom passed away 5 days before her 49th birthday in March of 1990. 

Milestone 2/29/16

Yesterday was a milestone in my journey that began a little over a year ago.

 A year ago, the beginning of February 2015, I began getting sick every 5 or 6 days. When this began, I was cleaning a bedroom and bathroom that some family members had used over the holidays. While they were here thay had the flu for several days. For a couple of weeks I had cracked the windows trying to air the germs out. I had also started back to work, going into schools working with children who had colds and sometimes flu, so I was't really too concerned.

Yesterday, my Power Port was taken out!! In case you are not familiar with a Power Port, it is a device that administers chemotherapy over a long period of time. I had 12 rounds of chemotherapy over 6 months. Each time, the "chemo" bag was attached to the Power Port for 42 hours. 

Starting anew

I have dabbled in blog land for several years. Yes, I called it "dabbled", mainly because it has not been consistent. I am in awe of those people who can write something everyday and engage people. Hopefully, I can become one of those people. Not because I am a wealth of knowledge, I'm not. Not because, in anyway has my road been special, it hasn't. BUT, because I have gone through  what many other's have gone through and I have come out the other side. More and more are joining me on that side and that's a GOOD thing.

Hopefully, many will find this blog and share it. Hopefully it will help someone who just found themselves or a loved one on this road. Hopefully, it will encourage and strengthen someone. And if you find yourself here, please let me know, ask a question, make a comment, or just say "Hi".