My Sweet Baby Girl,
I'm sorry that you were so scared last night. I wish I could make you believe that I will not let anything bad happen to you. If I could only make you see how fiercely I love you and the places inside of me that are so ferociously protective of you, then maybe you could understand that I am in control of these situations you are so afraid of. Why do you always ask what I would do if you got hurt or what I would do if someone tried to take you or would I cry if you died? The uncertainty and vulnerability you feel in my presence breaks my heart and makes me feel frustrated that I cannot communicate my deepest desire to keep you safe from all harm. I know it is hard to understand when you have seen things happen on my watch that you can only comprehend as bad. You have lost your innocence in regard to pain and death.
In futility, I tried to reason with you that just because we were downstairs and you couldn't see us, did not mean that we would let something bad happen to you. You lack the ability to trust the words, "I will not let anything bad happen to you."
That kind of reminds me of when I told you that God will protect us and only lets things happen to us that are for our own good, and you asked, "How can I believe in that if I can't see him?" I told you that that was what faith was: believing in someone or something that you can't see. But your words still haunt me.
They haunt me because I can hear myself in you. I know that somewhere in the corners of my soul I question God and his ability to protect me and keep me safe because I have seen some things happen on his watch that I cannot completely understand.
I can only imagine his pain and frustration as he watches me struggle with whether I am secure in his love. Deep inside of me, in the dark of the night, when I'm all alone, there are questions that I try to ignore and push away. Am I really going to be okay? Have I done enough to earn your love and approval? What is going to happen to me if I die? What if I've gotten it all wrong and I'm in for a big shocker?
I know all the theological answers to these questions, but there is still this place outside of my intellect that, if I'm honest with myself, does exist.
It is in these moments that I experience God. He does not always remove the problem, but he does put his arm around me and help me struggle through the pain, confusion, and fear. In my weakness, he is made strong, and his grace is sufficient for me.
Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
The Question
Labels:
Adoption,
Thyroid Cancer
I went to my endocronologist today. Am I spelling that right? Because my spell check keeps highlighting it.
Oh well. Who cares.
May I just begin by saying that people with cancer don't necessarily know all there is to know about their particular form of cancer?
People with cancer don't necessarily know all there is to know about their particular form of cancer. There is so much information being thrown at you all at once, and you become very overwhelmed and have a hard time processing everything. Sometimes, you cannot ask certain questions because your brain just won't go there.
I'm a little confused, but I think I may have learned a lot more about my cancer today.
1.) Because it is in my lymph nodes, it has most likely spread to other areas, as well.
2.) It is highly likely that I will have to have another surgery and a second radioactive iodine treatment after the first one. This is because they will do a full body scan after the first iodine treatment to see where the iodine goes. If it just goes to my neck, all is well; that is where it is supposed to go. If it goes anywhere else, such as the other side of my neck, lungs, bones, etc, they will have to surgically remove that tissue and do another round of radioactive iodine.
3.) If that does not take care of the cancer, I will have to have chemotherapy. That is highly unlikely though. So much so that chemo for thyroid cancer is still an experimental treatment. I would have to go to the Mayo clinic in Rochester if that became necessary.
4.) I finally asked a question that I have not wanted to ask until now.
"Am I going to die?"
The doctor paused for a second and then said, "It is highly unlikely, but yes, there is a chance you could die. Probably one in thirty people die from thyroid cancer. The younger you are, the better the prognosis."
When your daughter has died from something that affects one in a thousand, one in thirty sounds kind of high-risk. Statistics say that you won't be a statistic more than once, though. Good thing for statistics, huh?
They will start my radioactive iodine the week of Labor Day. That is, if my iodine levels are low enough. I have to go on a special low iodine diet starting now. This means I cannot eat fish, iodized salt, chocolate, dairy products, and a host of other things. Well, I guess I'll lose weight out of this whole ordeal after all. Whoo hoo!!
I will also have to go off my thyroid medicine for several days before the radioactive iodine is injected. There are a few things we are trying to figure out regarding what our insurance will and won't cover, and that will determine the exact approach they will take. If my insurance doesn't cover a certain procedure, I will have to go off my medicine for three weeks. If it does cover the procedure, it will only be a few days. I put my vote in for a few days, but we will see if the insurance company takes that into consideration.
He told me not to change any plans or put anything on hold in regard to the distant future. He doesn't foresee that there will be any huge problems. "Huge problems" is a euphamism for death.
Good thing he said that because our adoption case worker did our home study today. Everything went well. She said we can start looking at children's profiles online, and our official file will go online for all the social workers to access by August 10th. This is the official matching process, so once there is a match, we proceed from there. After 2 years, it seems almost too good to be true. I'm not even sure it's really happening yet.
I feel like this is such a sketchy post, but I must be off to school now, so I'll keep you posted in more detail as we go.
I must say, if you've never had cancer, it's a whole new world.
Oh well. Who cares.
May I just begin by saying that people with cancer don't necessarily know all there is to know about their particular form of cancer?
People with cancer don't necessarily know all there is to know about their particular form of cancer. There is so much information being thrown at you all at once, and you become very overwhelmed and have a hard time processing everything. Sometimes, you cannot ask certain questions because your brain just won't go there.
I'm a little confused, but I think I may have learned a lot more about my cancer today.
1.) Because it is in my lymph nodes, it has most likely spread to other areas, as well.
2.) It is highly likely that I will have to have another surgery and a second radioactive iodine treatment after the first one. This is because they will do a full body scan after the first iodine treatment to see where the iodine goes. If it just goes to my neck, all is well; that is where it is supposed to go. If it goes anywhere else, such as the other side of my neck, lungs, bones, etc, they will have to surgically remove that tissue and do another round of radioactive iodine.
3.) If that does not take care of the cancer, I will have to have chemotherapy. That is highly unlikely though. So much so that chemo for thyroid cancer is still an experimental treatment. I would have to go to the Mayo clinic in Rochester if that became necessary.
4.) I finally asked a question that I have not wanted to ask until now.
"Am I going to die?"
The doctor paused for a second and then said, "It is highly unlikely, but yes, there is a chance you could die. Probably one in thirty people die from thyroid cancer. The younger you are, the better the prognosis."
When your daughter has died from something that affects one in a thousand, one in thirty sounds kind of high-risk. Statistics say that you won't be a statistic more than once, though. Good thing for statistics, huh?
They will start my radioactive iodine the week of Labor Day. That is, if my iodine levels are low enough. I have to go on a special low iodine diet starting now. This means I cannot eat fish, iodized salt, chocolate, dairy products, and a host of other things. Well, I guess I'll lose weight out of this whole ordeal after all. Whoo hoo!!
I will also have to go off my thyroid medicine for several days before the radioactive iodine is injected. There are a few things we are trying to figure out regarding what our insurance will and won't cover, and that will determine the exact approach they will take. If my insurance doesn't cover a certain procedure, I will have to go off my medicine for three weeks. If it does cover the procedure, it will only be a few days. I put my vote in for a few days, but we will see if the insurance company takes that into consideration.
He told me not to change any plans or put anything on hold in regard to the distant future. He doesn't foresee that there will be any huge problems. "Huge problems" is a euphamism for death.
Good thing he said that because our adoption case worker did our home study today. Everything went well. She said we can start looking at children's profiles online, and our official file will go online for all the social workers to access by August 10th. This is the official matching process, so once there is a match, we proceed from there. After 2 years, it seems almost too good to be true. I'm not even sure it's really happening yet.
I feel like this is such a sketchy post, but I must be off to school now, so I'll keep you posted in more detail as we go.
I must say, if you've never had cancer, it's a whole new world.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Broken Cisterns
Labels:
Life and God
"My people have committed two sins:
They have forsaken me,
the spring of living water,
and have dug their own cisterns,
broken cisterns that cannot hold water."
Jeremiah 2:13
I heard an amazing sermon Sunday dealing with this passage. I will put a link to it once it is posted on the church website. It was extremely moving and convicting.
It is important to note that "My people" would not be referring to those outside the church but those within. American churches are full of people who are no longer finding their fulfillment in the spring of living water, but are filling their lives full of stuff that will never satisfy in their search for meaning and significance.
We are trading springs for cisterns, and they are broken cisterns at that.
They have forsaken me,
the spring of living water,
and have dug their own cisterns,
broken cisterns that cannot hold water."
Jeremiah 2:13
I heard an amazing sermon Sunday dealing with this passage. I will put a link to it once it is posted on the church website. It was extremely moving and convicting.
It is important to note that "My people" would not be referring to those outside the church but those within. American churches are full of people who are no longer finding their fulfillment in the spring of living water, but are filling their lives full of stuff that will never satisfy in their search for meaning and significance.
We are trading springs for cisterns, and they are broken cisterns at that.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Bullet Points Are My Friends
My apologies for being so negligent with my blog lately. We have had a lot going on in the past week, but none of it has been really worthy of a blog post. Maybe I will just write a few bullet points of some of the happenings around here.
We are getting ready for our home visit on Tuesday from our adoption case worker. This basically means that we are trying to clear out our garage so we can walk to the breaker box. Yes, it is that bad. It also means we are trying to chip away at Mt. Laundry by folding and putting away boatloads of clothes. No, we are not organized people. Does this come as a shock to anyone?
Allika has entered a new stage. It is called the gymnastics stage. Look it up. It's in your psychology books. It consists of bumps, thuds, flops, bangs, jolts, and cries of pain whilst the little one does somersault after somersault, cartwheel after cartwheel, and wall climb after wall climb non-stop in the course of a day. It is very disconcerting and makes for a difficult time when trying to study for tests or get any homework done. The other day, she asked me if she could please do a somersault off the couch. In exasperation, I told her no. She was quite distressed, claiming that her head was feeling so empty because it had not done a somersault for the last, oh, five minutes. If you think I'm exaggerating, I am not, and it is seriously driving me insane.
There are some huge transitions taking place within my husband's job, and it affects us all in some major ways, not the least of which being that he is stretched very thin(ly). That is his story to tell though if he ever wants to start a blog someday, so I will just leave it at saying that it has an impact on the whole family.
Some issues have evolved over time with my daughter, due to the death of my other daughter, and we have had to work extensively on helping her through some things. That is also her story that she can tell someday on her own blog if she so chooses. In the meantime, it takes a lot of energy and patience to work through the assignments from her counselor. We have achieved a lot of victories lately, for which I am very thankful, but sometimes it still breaks my heart to see her struggle the way she does.
I have started back to work, which I covered insipidly in my last blog post, so you can read all about it there.
We are helping a friend move which means that all his stuff has ended up in our garage that we just cleaned out for our home visit. There is a little path to the breaker box, though, so we should pass "inspection."
We have also had company and babysat for several friends in the last week which we thoroughly enjoy. Allika loves having little friends over to play with, and it distracts her from the gymnastics for a little while at least.
All in all, it's been a good week, just really busy. I hope to keep up a little better with my blog next week. No promises though.
We are getting ready for our home visit on Tuesday from our adoption case worker. This basically means that we are trying to clear out our garage so we can walk to the breaker box. Yes, it is that bad. It also means we are trying to chip away at Mt. Laundry by folding and putting away boatloads of clothes. No, we are not organized people. Does this come as a shock to anyone?
Allika has entered a new stage. It is called the gymnastics stage. Look it up. It's in your psychology books. It consists of bumps, thuds, flops, bangs, jolts, and cries of pain whilst the little one does somersault after somersault, cartwheel after cartwheel, and wall climb after wall climb non-stop in the course of a day. It is very disconcerting and makes for a difficult time when trying to study for tests or get any homework done. The other day, she asked me if she could please do a somersault off the couch. In exasperation, I told her no. She was quite distressed, claiming that her head was feeling so empty because it had not done a somersault for the last, oh, five minutes. If you think I'm exaggerating, I am not, and it is seriously driving me insane.
There are some huge transitions taking place within my husband's job, and it affects us all in some major ways, not the least of which being that he is stretched very thin(ly). That is his story to tell though if he ever wants to start a blog someday, so I will just leave it at saying that it has an impact on the whole family.
Some issues have evolved over time with my daughter, due to the death of my other daughter, and we have had to work extensively on helping her through some things. That is also her story that she can tell someday on her own blog if she so chooses. In the meantime, it takes a lot of energy and patience to work through the assignments from her counselor. We have achieved a lot of victories lately, for which I am very thankful, but sometimes it still breaks my heart to see her struggle the way she does.
I have started back to work, which I covered insipidly in my last blog post, so you can read all about it there.
We are helping a friend move which means that all his stuff has ended up in our garage that we just cleaned out for our home visit. There is a little path to the breaker box, though, so we should pass "inspection."
We have also had company and babysat for several friends in the last week which we thoroughly enjoy. Allika loves having little friends over to play with, and it distracts her from the gymnastics for a little while at least.
All in all, it's been a good week, just really busy. I hope to keep up a little better with my blog next week. No promises though.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Back to Normal?
Labels:
Thyroid Cancer
Today was my first day back to work since the surgery.
It's funny because I thought I would be going back to work the week following my surgery since that is what I did after my last surgery.
I told the scheduler that I couldn't do my post op the Friday following surgery because I had to work. She said, "Oh honey, you won't be working the week after surgery."
I said, "Really? I went to work the week after my last surgery."
"Yeah. And what kind of surgery was that?"
"An excisional biopsy."
"Okay. Well, this is going to be a little more extensive. We're talking about a complete thyroidectomy and right neck dissection."
The nurse then called me and wondered if my job involved lifting at all. When I told her I was a nanny for two-year-old twins, she laughed and informed me that I would not be going back to work for a while.
Today I found out why they said these things. I am exhausted. I did not realize how much I would need the help of my 6-year-old daughter today, but I became aware very soon of how invaluable she was to me. Wow. Two-year-olds.
I work again tomorrow and Friday, so I hope I gain strength as I go instead of losing it.
It's good to be back in the swing of things, though.
It's funny because I thought I would be going back to work the week following my surgery since that is what I did after my last surgery.
I told the scheduler that I couldn't do my post op the Friday following surgery because I had to work. She said, "Oh honey, you won't be working the week after surgery."
I said, "Really? I went to work the week after my last surgery."
"Yeah. And what kind of surgery was that?"
"An excisional biopsy."
"Okay. Well, this is going to be a little more extensive. We're talking about a complete thyroidectomy and right neck dissection."
The nurse then called me and wondered if my job involved lifting at all. When I told her I was a nanny for two-year-old twins, she laughed and informed me that I would not be going back to work for a while.
Today I found out why they said these things. I am exhausted. I did not realize how much I would need the help of my 6-year-old daughter today, but I became aware very soon of how invaluable she was to me. Wow. Two-year-olds.
I work again tomorrow and Friday, so I hope I gain strength as I go instead of losing it.
It's good to be back in the swing of things, though.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Still the One
Allika was gone on Father's Day, and since Van isn't my daddy, we decided to wait to observe it. Well, one thing has led to another over the last few weeks, and we haven't gotten a chance to celebrate until this Sunday.
I was trying to do something really special for Van because he has been such a wonderful husband and father, especially over the last few months. He's really picked up the slack for me, and I haven't always been the most easiest person to live with.
I thought a hot air balloon ride over the St. Croix Valley would be perfect. We have both really wanted to do that, and I had decided that when I got through all of this cancer stuff, I was going to do the things I had always thought would be fun. There's only one little problem with that valiant resolution. It's called $800 dollars.
So, I set my sights a little lower and reserved a spot on a dinner cruise down the St. Croix River. I think we may have even kept it a secret which is very difficult for Allika to do.
Here are some pictures.
The Boat
Allika and Her Daddy
The Jazz Band that serenaded us throughout our ride
Van and Allika waiting for dinner. Wish I had taken pictures of the spread. It was so delicious.
The Polowchaks
The Scenery
After the boat ride, we had another little surprise up our sleeves. It wasn't anything big, but it's something we've never done before and have always wanted to try. We went to a drive-in movie. What a phenomenon! I never realized how much fun those were. Of course, we didn't know you were supposed to bring your grill, lawn chairs, footballs, frisbees, soccer balls, etc. It was one big old huge tailgating party. We got there early since the movie wasn't starting until dark, so we had plenty of time to walk around. Allika climbed several trees and did some exploring while I snapped a few photos.
Such a neat place
Our Motorcycle Babe
Two hours before the movie...Filling up fast
Climbing trees while we waited
Waiting for Ice Age 3
To top the evening off, we gave Van a gift certificate to Half-Price Books (his favorite book store) and a recycled Father's Day card which I had thrown at him on Father's Day. This time, however, I had actually signed it and handed it to him nicely. I suppose I shall have to explain.
Like I said, back in June we had decided not to do anything for Father's Day, but I didn't want to let the day go by without even acknowledging Van, so I bought him one of those musical cards that played "Still the One." Well, I spent more money on more stuff, too, and when I got home, there was a discussion about the spending of the money. For the record, he was right and I was wrong. Of course, that is not usually the case, but this time, it was.
Anyway, the disagreement ended with me throwing the card at him and following that with the receipt so he could return it and get the money back.(I can be very vicious when I throw paper, people. Okay?)
So, he opens the card to hear this: "You're still the one I run to, the one that I belong to, you're still the one I want for life. You're still the one that I love, the only one I dream of, you're still the one I kiss good night."
He kept the card without a signature and threw away the receipt.
And that, my friends, is why I gave him the same card again, only this time I signed it and wrote something special.
And thus ended our celebration of Father's Day. I love you, Van. You're still the one.
I was trying to do something really special for Van because he has been such a wonderful husband and father, especially over the last few months. He's really picked up the slack for me, and I haven't always been the most easiest person to live with.
I thought a hot air balloon ride over the St. Croix Valley would be perfect. We have both really wanted to do that, and I had decided that when I got through all of this cancer stuff, I was going to do the things I had always thought would be fun. There's only one little problem with that valiant resolution. It's called $800 dollars.
So, I set my sights a little lower and reserved a spot on a dinner cruise down the St. Croix River. I think we may have even kept it a secret which is very difficult for Allika to do.
Here are some pictures.
The Boat
Allika and Her Daddy
The Jazz Band that serenaded us throughout our ride
Van and Allika waiting for dinner. Wish I had taken pictures of the spread. It was so delicious.
The Polowchaks
The Scenery
After the boat ride, we had another little surprise up our sleeves. It wasn't anything big, but it's something we've never done before and have always wanted to try. We went to a drive-in movie. What a phenomenon! I never realized how much fun those were. Of course, we didn't know you were supposed to bring your grill, lawn chairs, footballs, frisbees, soccer balls, etc. It was one big old huge tailgating party. We got there early since the movie wasn't starting until dark, so we had plenty of time to walk around. Allika climbed several trees and did some exploring while I snapped a few photos.
Such a neat place
Our Motorcycle Babe
Two hours before the movie...Filling up fast
Climbing trees while we waited
Waiting for Ice Age 3
To top the evening off, we gave Van a gift certificate to Half-Price Books (his favorite book store) and a recycled Father's Day card which I had thrown at him on Father's Day. This time, however, I had actually signed it and handed it to him nicely. I suppose I shall have to explain.
Like I said, back in June we had decided not to do anything for Father's Day, but I didn't want to let the day go by without even acknowledging Van, so I bought him one of those musical cards that played "Still the One." Well, I spent more money on more stuff, too, and when I got home, there was a discussion about the spending of the money. For the record, he was right and I was wrong. Of course, that is not usually the case, but this time, it was.
Anyway, the disagreement ended with me throwing the card at him and following that with the receipt so he could return it and get the money back.(I can be very vicious when I throw paper, people. Okay?)
So, he opens the card to hear this: "You're still the one I run to, the one that I belong to, you're still the one I want for life. You're still the one that I love, the only one I dream of, you're still the one I kiss good night."
He kept the card without a signature and threw away the receipt.
And that, my friends, is why I gave him the same card again, only this time I signed it and wrote something special.
And thus ended our celebration of Father's Day. I love you, Van. You're still the one.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
A Franciscan Benediction
Labels:
Life and God,
Poetry and Music
A Franciscan Benediction
May God bless you with discomfort,
at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships,
so that you may live deep within your heart.
May God bless you with anger,
at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.
My God bless you with tears,
to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war,
so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their
pain to joy.
And may God bless you with enough foolishness,
to believe that you can make a difference in this world,
so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.
Amen.
May God bless you with discomfort,
at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships,
so that you may live deep within your heart.
May God bless you with anger,
at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.
My God bless you with tears,
to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war,
so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their
pain to joy.
And may God bless you with enough foolishness,
to believe that you can make a difference in this world,
so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.
Amen.
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