Changes

As you can see, I've been making a few changes to my blog. Nothing much, but I like it. I am really technologically challenged, so changes will probably be slow over the life-time of my blog.

Another change to report is that we have officially decided to send Allika to the new school. She will start next Tuesday. We went out and got her uniforms. She is so excited about wearing those. More power to ya, kiddo.

I have been in somewhat of a depression over the whole thing. My mom finally got it. She said, "You feel like you're losing your job." It was so nice to talk to her about it and know she understood. I feel this emptiness when I think about having 35 hours a week without her. I know it isn't going to be that drastic because I will be volunteering at her school part of that time, but it still will be a different kind of interaction with her.

I also feel sad when I think of leaving the whole "home-schooling culture." It definitely is a sub-culture, a different way of thinking, and a way of life. It is kind of like leaving one religion for a different one. Yes, that is a dramatic way of putting it, but that is how I roll. I just have to keep being honest with my feelings and emotions over this.

There are these really militant home-educators who will not let me off very easily. But there were also these really militant public educators who gave me a hard time when we decided to home-school. It just goes to show you that child-rearing decisions are very personal and must be made by the parents, with the child's best interest in mind.

I am so scared of bullies, perverts, and anything that might hurt my daughter. We are trying this over the summer (because they have school year-round), and you better believe that if something doesn't seem quite right, we will resume home-schooling or another alternative in a heart-beat. I know I am very intense and high-strung about this, but education is a very formative part of a child's development. Of course, I'm studying that part of development in college right now, and it's scaring the snot out of me. I cannot take it too lightly.

We already decided not to let her take the bus because it was an extra TWO HOURS (!!!!!!!) every day just riding the stinkin' bus! That's forty-five hours a week of her being gone. No way. She's only seven for crying out loud!! Those are adult working hours! It will mean an extra forty miles of driving a day, but it's worth it to spend some quality time with her in the mornings on her way to school and discussing her day after we pick her up.

We will see where God takes us. For now, we are taking this huge step ever so gingerly. We don't know what he is doing, but he is doing something, and we will trust him with the outcome.

Okay, onto something else I wanted to share with you all. I got the reports back from my blood tests and ultra sound, and I am still doing great! The thyroglobulins (of which you ideally want to have none) were not undetectable, but they were really low, so they will just keep an eye on them.

When I went in to get my ultra-sound, the lady told me that it is not uncommon to find more lymph nodes, so I got kind of nervous. Then, she started clicking away on her keyboard and measuring and holding the ultra-sound head in one spot for a really long time. So, of course, I was thinking, "Great! She found another one! You've got to be kidding me! I don't want to go through this all over again!"

Well, we got all done, and she said I could go. Just like that. I looked at her and asked if I needed to talk to the doctor or anything. She said that she hadn't found anything to bring to the doc's attention, so I was good to go. Phew!! That little scare there made the relief even more palpable when I got the good news.

Thank you, God, for another six months of good health!

Cancer Update

It's been six months since my radioactive iodine treatment. Today I went in for my six-month check-up. They did some blood work and will be doing an ultra-sound on my neck next week. That's just standard procedure every six months. There is nothing alarming that has caused them to order these procedures.

The doctor did feel something abnormal on my neck when I swallowed, but he thinks it's just scar tissue.

There is a 30% chance of recurrence with thyroid cancer, especially when it has spread to the lymph nodes. I will believe I am in the 70% until I am told otherwise. That just makes the most sense to me.

Life in the Form of a List

Here are some of the things that have been going on in the last couple of weeks. I am not guaranteeing the intrigue of any of them. This is just our life on the surface.

1.)Three birthday parties and one baby shower in 2 weeks. One of them is Allika's, so I have to do a little planning and organizing for that. I'm not going to do a ton because I tried the whole "do-it-yourself" party last year, and it was quite the disaster. Instead, we are having it at the Nature Center and letting them do most of the entertaining.

2.)Taking Allika to a variety of fun, learning experiences. Some of the ones I can remember right now off the top of my head are the physics circus, story time at the library, and tomorrow night I will be taking her to the Children's Theatre to see Mr. McGee and the Biting Flea. A friend gave us tickets for our birthdays. Sounds like fun.


(One of the demonstrations at the Physics Circus. They did a lot of really great science experiments on a level that would help kids want to learn more.)

3.)Learning that the friend I told you about earlier who had lung cancer has another malignant tumor in her lung. It is inoperable since it is close to some major arteries. She will have to undergo chemo and radiation. These are the times in my life when I feel so helpless and inadequate. I want so badly to say and do the right things, but I don't know what they are.

4.)Getting really, really sick for about a week. I went to the doctor, and they said it was a virus. It really wiped me out for a while there. I kept running a fever off and on and couldn't swallow because it hurt so badly, even when I took an ibuprofen.

5.)Pretending to work on my homework for my classes which start February 1st. I'm excited to be learning the things I actually went to school to learn and not all the general stuff that isn't as fascinating to me.

6.)Having my thyroid medication increased for the third time since my thyroidectomy. It still isn't as high as it's supposed to be. I will have it tested again in 5 weeks. I would like to think my low thyroid levels might be to blame for the 10 pounds I've gained, but I'm sure it really has something to do with the holidays and my sick love of chocolate.

7.)Cheering on the Vikings as they get closer and closer to the Super Bowl. I'm really not a huge football person. In fact, I have always made fun of my husband for his allegiance to a team that couldn't care less whether or not he existed. This year, however, I kind of got caught up in the spirit. I'll go back to my ridiculing ways soon enough, but in the meantime, I'm enjoying the excitement while it lasts.

Skol Vikings!!

Thanksgiving

I Thessalonians 5:18 says, "Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

I know this is the time of year we start thinking more about being thankful, and I think it's a really good idea to have an official time to focus more on all the blessings we have. It's not just a silly platitude when people say that making a list of all you have to be thankful for really changes your whole perspective on life.

One year, I made a little "Thanksgiving Tree." I just got a branch, decorated it, and tied some yarn all over it. Then, I got little pieces of paper and punched holes in them. Everyone was supposed to write down something they were thankful for and tie it to the tree. There was a catch, though. Instead of writing good things they were thankful for, they had to write about things that seemed negative at the time but turned out good in the long run. I thought it turned out really neat to read all about the hard things we had all gone through, knowing we could recognize the good in them.

That's what the verse in I Thessalonians says. It doesn't just say to give thanks; it says to give thanks in all circumstances. That is what can be really hard sometimes. It is easy to thank God for the good things, but do we thank him for the hard times also? It is in the hard times that we are strengthened and caused to grow (James 1:2-4).

In light of these things, I thought I would make a list of what I am thankful for this year, but instead of all the nice things (and there have been boat-loads of those), I thought I would write why I'm thankful for all the tough things we have been through.

1.) I am thankful for...a decrease in income due to Van's losing a part-time position...because it has freed up our schedule a little more and allowed us to be more creative in how we spend our money.

2.) I am thankful for...having ten people choose to place their fellowship with a different church after years of working together and building relationships...because it has caused us to be really introspective about who we are and why we are in the ministry; it has challenged us to be faithful; it has shown us ways that we need to improve; and it has caused us to see the potential in people we were overlooking because we were so focused on the ones we thought would stay and be the pillars.

3.) I am thankful for...being diagnosed with cancer...because it made me think about death and the legacy I wanted to leave behind; it showed me the sweetness and support of my family, church, and friends; it gave me a new perspective on what it's like to have cancer and not know what the outcome will be; and it made me appreciate what I've got even if it's not always what I want.

4.) I am thankful for...having to make some tough decisions about our daughter's emotional health...because it has helped us not to be so judgmental of other parents because we may not know everything that's going on behind the scenes; it has opened the doors to discuss some very deep truths with our daughter that most parents will not get to discuss with their children until they're much older; it has made us have to confront some of the unhealthy and untrue things that we were telling ourselves while we thought we were being perfectly rational.

5.) I am thankful for...the difficult navigation of the adoption process and that we are still waiting for that match...because there is a special child out there somewhere waiting for the love our family can give, and all the time it is taking to bring us together is just preparing our hearts for the perfect moment when the child we've been praying for becomes a part of our family.

So, whether you write a list of all the good things you're thankful for or all the not-so-good things you're thankful for, take the time to notice what God is doing in you're life. He is accomplishing great things in you, even when you may not feel so great about it.

A Cultural and Spiritual Experience

Remember a while back when I mentioned my Liberian friends coming over and singing and praying over me? Well, they did it again. The day I found out I was cancer free, one of them called to hear what the report was. When my husband told her, she informed us that they were all coming over. At first, I didn't know quite what to think because it was 10:00 at night and my daughter was in bed trying to go to sleep. Once again, I was a little less than thrilled about their timing.

There was a pretty good-sized group that came over and sat in my living room waiting for me to get out of the shower. I could hear them in there singing and couldn't help but smile. When I came out of the bathroom, my daughter had gotten out of bed to see what the commotion was all about, and she was sitting on a chair in the living room, along with my husband, taking the whole scene in.

The group of them surrounded me with hugs and tears and were so happy that I had been healed. It was quite a demonstrative and dramatic response - very different from any of the reactions I had received from my American friends.

I did get some of the singing recorded, but I didn't want to seem too disrespectful by recording while they were praying. They took it very seriously and were not trying to entertain, so I didn't want them to think I thought it was all a big show. Here is some of what I recorded.



Just like before, I was blessed beyond anything a quiet night at home would have accomplished.

Transition

Just a quick post to let you all know I haven't forgotten about you. I'm just trying to figure out how to transition from being about cancer to being about other things.

I contemplated quitting my blog since I don't have cancer anymore, but, as my profile states, this is a blog about my spiritual journey which is more than just having cancer. Believe it or not, it is kind of difficult switching gears. I guess this is my attempt at going about it.

So, for those of you who were just following for cancer updates, I am moving on from those to post about other things I am learning in this exciting adventure I am on. I have appreciated your being along on this journey up until now. You have been so invaluable to me in dealing with everything. Writing was so good for me in processing all my thoughts and emotions. Having someone there to read what I wrote made me feel like there might be some significance to this whole thing after all.

I would love to have each of you continue to join me and leave all your lovely comments. If you do not wish to do so, I have enjoyed having you along thus far.

Here's to a cancer-free blog.

Breathing is Good

It's over, and this fat lady is singing ever so loudly.

The doctor called today with the test results. After a summer full of biopsies (2), surgeries (2), recovery, low-iodine diet, radiation, lab work, medications, body scans, and more, the cancer has not spread, and I am officially cancer-free.

I almost feel like I made it up that the doctor said the cancer had most likely spread, and I would probably have to have more procedures done. That all sounds so impossible and silly now. But I did not make it up. I know for a fact that is what I heard.

God is so good to me.

I had already decided that he is good no matter what. Even if the results weren't what I wanted (which I was prepared for) it would not have changed his goodness.

I know there were so many praying. People I didn't even know would write me and tell me they were praying for me. Whole churches and camps were praying for me. You can never imagine what all of you have meant to me. Thanks for the cards, calls, comments, and prayers. People would ask me what they could do for me. All I ever wanted was prayer. I could never have done this on my own. A thousand times never.

Getting the news kind of felt a little anti-climactic, like it was just another day. It's not just another day though; It is the first day of the rest of my life. I told Van I felt like we needed to shoot off fireworks or something. We laughed, knowing that we would have to find a way to celebrate without fireworks.

We went for a long, brisk walk after dark. It felt so good. When we got home, we all went to go get ice cream and a movie.

As we were driving home, we happened to look over, and much to our surprise, there was a fireworks show. Right down the street!! We knew they were for us. I guess we got our fireworks after all.

My Aunt Mary kept telling me not to forget to breathe. Now I know what she meant. I have been holding my breath for three months without realizing it. I suppose I went into autopilot mode and did what I had to do to keep my head above the water. I never read up on what things meant. If I had read what it really could mean, I would have been a basket case. I didn't even ask the doctors too many questions. I just took what they said and tried to believe the best about it. I didn't want to think too deeply about the possibilities. I know there are some who want to know all the ins and outs and ups and downs of their diagnosis, treatment, and prognosis, but not me. Call it denial. Call it laziness. Call it survival.

Whatever you call it, it's over now. I can breathe again.

Saint Van

Today was my first day out of isolation. This morning Allika said, "Momma gets to act normal today."

So many things I could say about that.

I wish I had taken a picture of my little radioactive corner. Once I touched something, it became radioactive and couldn't leave the area I was in, so I was rapidly being taken over by dishes, laundry, trash, etc. It was good to get it all out of here today.

Allika came home Sunday night. We still had 3 days of "limited contact." She did really well, considering, but didn't like it one bit.

Our little doggy couldn't understand what was going on, either. We had to keep her in Allika's room because she would come straight to me if she was allowed out. It made it worse for her the nights that Allika was gone. She is happily stretched out beside me right now as I type.

Poor Van. Bless his heart. He had to do everything. It was hard for me to watch him running around like a chicken with its head cut off while I was perfectly capable of helping but couldn't. He got so stressed out. He had to take care of his normal duties plus cook, clean, take care of Allika and the dog, run errands, etc. I remember one time when he made breakfast, served me, fed Allika and got her ready for the day, started her schoolwork while he did dishes and cleaned up, worked with her until she was done, immediately started cooking lunch, fed me and her, didn't even have time to eat because he had to make some time-sensitive calls, cleaned up after lunch, and had to take care of other responsibilities with his job while trying to keep Allika occupied and away from me. The whole time, I'm just sitting in my corner reading a book.

Someday I will make a confession about the awful way I added to his stress by insisting he butter my toast as soon as it comes out of the toaster instead of waiting until it got cold.

I know. Ridiculous. It was not one of my proudest moments.

I did get rather cross sometimes sitting there, doing nothing. No excuses. Just keepin' it real here.

I got quite a bit of my booklist read. Do you know what that means? Lots of material floating around in my brain that has to go somewhere. And what better place than here with all of you, my lovely friends?

Van laughs when I read a book. It's probably a good thing I don't read more than I do. I have to share every profound thing I read with him. When I finish a book, I exclaim profusely over its goodness and insist that he read it, as well. This is because the book is making inroads into my thought processes and I want us to discuss these things and be on the same page together. It's relational. I do the same thing with my food.

"You've got to try this!!"

"I don't want to."

"Please just take a bite?"

"Tani, I'm fine with what I ordered."

"But you don't know what you're missing. It would mean so much to me if you would just try it."

He usually relents. Then, much to his chagrin, I like to try his, too.

Life is all about sharing and experiencing things together.

Raise your hand if you think Van's a saint.

Quarantine

I should have brought my camera. But I'm not a camera-type person, and so, I didn't remember to. It really was a very unique experience, though, that no one can visualize without seeing it.

When you walk into the room, you feel like you are going into a danger zone or something: blue pads taped to the whole floor; saran wrap on the toilet seat, faucets, phone, remote, bed, chair, etc.; lead shields to keep radiation from entering the adjoining rooms; a sign that reads, "no visitors beyond this point"; red bins with orange "radioactive" signs; warning signs on the door and elsewhere.

So much fanfare for a gray horse-pill that they brought to me in this vault-like container. They had to open a compartment to open another compartment to open yet another compartment to get to the pill.

After swallowing it, they had to take measurements of me and the area all around my room to test the levels of radiation. I didn't feel at all different. I was just sitting there, so benign and innocent, yet so dangerous and infectious.

They said I might experience nausea, dry mouth, and pain at the cancer site, but I didn't experience any of it. I really felt very good. The most traumatic part of the whole thing was being isolated. It was so hard to just have to lay there and read a book and have people cook for me and wait on me and fuss over me. Very traumatic.

I think the hospital staff was a little confused. Everyone kept telling me something different.

"Don't use anything you don't want to leave here."

"You can use it, just wear gloves."

"You don't have to wear gloves as long as no one else will be touching it after you."

Some nurses would use a separate stethoscope from their own, while others would use their own. Some nurses would completely suit up, while others would just wear gloves. Some would come in, announcing that they couldn't get close and hurriedly do what they had to do and leave. Others would come in and stand by me for five minutes. One nurse kept checking my input and output. The rest didn't care how many times I went to the bathroom or ate. One nurse didn't even wear gloves and said he only had to if he was handling bodily fluids.

I don't know what to make of all that. Just relating the facts. No one seemed to know what the protocol was.

I was only in the hospital for 24 hours. My numbers were better than the acceptable level the next day. The guy measuring my levels said, "Your surgeon did a really good job removing all the thyroid. It's a very precise surgery and difficult to get everything without hitting nerves, vocal chords, or parathyroids."

"I know. I had a wonderful surgeon," I said.

This is a theme I keep hearing from the different doctors I see: "Your surgeon did a wonderful job."

So, I am home now. I still have to stay 6 feet away from everyone. Children are most susceptible to the radiation. Allika went to stay with her cousin for a few days. She was having a little trouble remembering to keep her distance. She was very upset that she couldn't hug me. That was hard for me because she was crying and saying that it made her feel bad not to be able to hug me. So, she went and got me a rose. It was her own idea, and she picked it out all by herself, announcing to everyone that her mother had cancer and she couldn't be close to her. She is such a sweetie-pie.

The next thing we will have to do is a body scan on Thursday to see if the iodine only went to the neck or if it went anywhere else. If it went anywhere else, that's where the cancer spread.

I get to have a new experience on Wednesday that I've never had before (hence, the newness of it). I get to take a laxative in preparation for my body scan.

I love new experiences.

Quote

I don't really feel like posting a long update, but I will say that all is well. In fact, things are better than expected. Sometimes, I get tired of talking about me and my health, though.

I promise I will update you soon, but in the meantime, I hope you will allow me to simply share this excerpt from my reading today.

Jesus hath many lovers of His heavenly kingdom, but few bearers of His Cross. He hath many seekers of comfort, but few of tribulation. He findeth many companions of His table, but few of His fasting. All desire to rejoice with Him, few are willing to undergo anything for His sake. Many follow Jesus that they may eat of His loaves, but few that they may drink of the cup of His passion.

Many are astonished at His Miracles, few follow after the shame of His Cross. Many love Jesus so long as no adversities happen to them. Many praise Him and bless Him, so long as they receive any comforts from Him. But if Jesus hide Himself and withdraw from them a little while, they fall either into complaining or into too great dejection of mind.

But they who love Jesus for Jesus' sake, and not for any consolation of their own, bless Him in all tribulation and anguish of heart as in the highest consolation. And if He should never give them consolation, nevertheless they would always praise Him and always give Him thanks.
Thomas A Kempis, The Imitation of Christ

This reminds me of something my husband has said: "Do we love the gift more than we love the giver of the gift?"

My happiness comes from the gifts; my joy comes from knowing and loving the giver of those gifts.

Book List

I love to read. Lately, however, I haven't had time to read anything. Well, except for textbooks.
So, my plan is to read several books while I am quarantined from the rest of humanity.

My book list is as follows:

Henri Nouwen: His Life and Vision by Michael O'Laughlin (It has pictures, too)

When Invisible Children Sing by Dr. Chi Huang

Broken Children, Grown-Up Pain by Paul Hegstrom, Ph.D.

Surrender: The Heart God Controls by Nancy Leigh DeMoss

A Mother's Grief Observed by Rebecca Faber

The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne

The Sacred Romance: Drawing Closer to the Heart of God by Brent Curtis and John Eldredge

Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust by Immaculee Ilibagiza

My husband is also planning on downloading some of my favorite tunes (I feel so cool using that word instead of "songs" or "music") for my listening pleasure. Plus I have rented a few movies to watch, so we should be all set for this here shin dig.

I don't know if I will be able to post while I'm in the hospital because they say radiation comes out of my fingers onto the keys of my computer and will render it unusable for a week. I'm the bionic woman.

Anyway, we will see. It could be a day or a week until I visit with you again, my dear friends. I understand those words will put some of you into major depression and withdrawals, and I apologize for that.

Until next time, squeezes and smooches.

God is in Control

What a great day! Besides running out of gas on the way home from the doctor's office, it has been so good. Even that was a blessing in disguise, but I'll expound more on that later.

Everything is a go. My iodine levels are better than perfect. The doctor was looking for 100 or less, and they are 44. Woo hoo!

The next thing I'm about to tell you is medical terminology that I really don't understand very well, so I am probably over-simplifying it, mis-spelling it, and otherwise, getting it wrong. C'mon people, my degree is in philosophy, not medicine.

Thyroglobin or globulin or goblins are typically, under normal circumstances, supposed to be at 40. We, however, want that number to be really low for the radioactive iodine because we don't want very much thyroid tissue (thyroid tissue equals cancer) to have to absorb the radiation. The less tissue the more absorption of radiation by the tissue, leading to the more killing of the cancer cells.

Well, my number is at 1.4!!! That is such good news. It means that my wonderful, amazing, awesome, God-sent surgeon did a marvelous job of removing most of the cancerous thyroid tissue. I'm telling you people, I couldn't have picked a better doctor to do my surgeries if I had been in control of the situation myself. I even contemplated switching doctors because the one I had was fresh out of training and didn't have as much experience. I believe he had done 13 of these surgeries apart from his internships and college training, which would add several more to that number.

I chose not to switch because I realized that my trust was not in doctors but in the God who worked through the doctors. I could have the most highly trained surgeon on the planet, and, if God so chose, my surgery could be botched. On the other hand, I could have the surgeon with the worst skills, and if it was within God's will and timing, all would go smoothly.

I know this is a hard concept for some to grasp (it was for me once, too), but I believe it with all my heart.

I do believe my doctor will go far in his career and be a great name in his field someday. He has all the makings of a top-notch doctor. I can't believe how humble he is about the spectacular work he did. He said it was just something he liked to do. Not a big deal.

Well, it's a big deal to me. Thanks, Doc!

I love my doctors, and I love my God, who brought them into my life.

Control is an Illusion

Well, tomorrow I go to get my first THS shot. I am not really even sure what it does, but it takes the place of going off my thyroid medication for 3 weeks. I do have to go off my medication for a little while but nothing compared to what it would have been without the shots.

There was a big fiasco over the testing of my iodine levels, and I won't know whether they are low enough or not until tomorrow morning when I go in for the shot. The doctor said that if they weren't low enough, he can increase the THS dosage to make up for it. It makes me kind of nervous wondering whether everything is going to be okay, but I am learning not to fret so much about things.

I had to remind myself of that perspective on Friday at 4:00 PM when I started stressing out about whether I would be able to have my treatment this week or not. I was not the most pleasant patient while trying to get everything straightened out with the receptionist. Bless her heart. I felt really bad after hanging up, but I had taken the time off of work and juggled my schedule all around to prepare for this week, so life just has to go the way I want it to.

Reality check. It doesn't.

Perspective check. It's okay.

Bottom line. If things aren't a go for this week, there is a reason. Life will go on. Whatever happens will happen. If I lose my job for taking too much time off, I was supposed to lose my job for some reason. God is in control.

Why do I get so worked up about things beyond my control? It is a good lesson to learn. I am learning it the hard way.

Incidentally, the lady I was talking to at the doctor's office was so nice. She was so patient and understanding with me. When she called back with some new info, I was apologetic and mentioned that I was just getting a little bit nervous. She understood. I was impressed.

*Sigh* It's nice to have someone get it.

If I Could Smack Cancer in the Face...

They say that an iodine deficiency affects your intellectual capabilities, so I am taking that one and running with it. I have already attempted three different posts and can't seem to get the words I write to say what I am thinking. I start out just fine, but once I get going, I start making no sense. At least I have an excuse now.

They also say that thyroid cancer patients report feelings of exhaustion 50% (I think but I could just be making that up due to my iodine deficiency) more than other cancer patients. I can believe that, but maybe I'm just feeling worn out for other reasons.

Like the swollen lymph node on the left side of my neck that hurts every time I laugh. Is it something from the surgery? Is it all the infection that would have otherwise gone to the now non-existent lymph nodes on the right side of my neck? Or is it more cancer? These are some of the pleasant thoughts I think.

I had to do a 24-hour urine collection yesterday at the same time that I was potty-training two-year-old twins. I will spare you some of the more unpleasant details, but it involves a little hat you have to put on the toilet and a little jug you have to put in the refrigerator. The fact that I had to do it during a 10-hour work day was all due to a mis-communication between the lab tech and my nurse. Today, it is nice to be able to go to the bathroom in the simple manner to which I am accustomed. It is interesting to learn all the things we take for granted. So, go enjoy your bathroom today (and hug your kids, too).

I have lost 30 lbs. and still counting. That doesn't get me close to where I need to be, but it gives me a start.

Now that I have unloaded all the negative news on you poor, innocent, unsuspecting readers, I have some good news to share.

I took my friend to the doctor the other day. She had a third of her lung removed one-and-a-half weeks ago due to cancer. They said she would be out of commission for a good 6 weeks, and in the nursing home for at least 3-4 weeks after surgery.

Well, she was in the hospital for one week and the nursing home for four days. The doctor sent her home the day I took her in to see him.

It was such a privilege to be with her when she received the news that she was going home and to watch her float about 6 feet off the ground. She was crying and so excited that she made me start crying, as well.

God is so good. She believes it to be a miracle that she is doing so well so soon. We've certainly all been praying for her.

It's been kind of an interesting set of circumstances surrounding me and her. We attend church together, and she found out she had lung cancer only a short time after I found out that I had cancer. We have kind of been in this thing together. She gives me permission to be real and helps me realize how much worse things could be.

I am so thankful for the blessing she is to me, and just wanted to share the good news about her recovery.

Does Anyone Mind if I Scream?

My summer has not gone as planned.

I know. Huge news flash, right?

It has been filled with surgeries and doctor's appointments and recoveries and schedule-jugglings and stuff.

I wanted it to be this totally great and fun summer for my daughter. I had planned all sorts of activities that we were going to do together, but they never happened.

We have squeezed a few things in here and there, but I feel really badly about what I have not done. I am sad that summer is almost over.

Today, I went through all of Allika's curriculum and planned out her daily schedule for the next four weeks. We have decided to home-school her, and I couldn't be more excited. Yes, there are a lot of "what-ifs" and "what-on-earth-are-you-thinking-I-can't-believe-you-would-do-such-a-thing-at-this-point-in-you-lifes," but I welcome those challenges and love to discuss the differing viewpoints on the issue. Maybe I will write a post about that...someday.

I am also in the process of getting my school schedule figured out without a lot of cooperation from my academic adviser. I feel like I am entering the twilight zone when I walk into that office. Just recently she refused to give me a schedule I needed because she insisted that I already had it. Do you know how completely hair-wrenching that can be? When someone can control your destiny by telling you what you do and don't have without any real ability to know what you do and don't have? I think I can read the papers you gave me, and no, that schedule is not amongst them. She concludes that I must have just lost it in the ten minutes it took me to drive from her office to my house. Okay, we will go with that. Can you just send me another one? No, because I already gave it to you.

Ooooh. Power trip.

*Scream*

*Rip hair out*

Do I have a sign on my face that says, "Please just be completely inefficient and incompetent in your dealings with me because I'd like nothing more than to have to report you to your supervisor because it really adds a lot of time to my already hectic and crazy life."

Seriously. There was that time at Wub-Say, when they were going to make me take the meatballs off my own sandwich with my fingers because they couldn't put marinara sauce and pepperoni on the same sandwich, but they could put meatballs with marinara sauce and pepperoni on the same sandwich. No, I am not making these things up.

It's seriously the sign on my face.

Then, there was the time at our friendly mega huge super store that rhymes with Shmall-shmart. They wouldn't give me the money back for a brand new sewing machine that had a manufacturer's defect. Their reason? It was not their machine to guarantee; it was the manufacturer's. I would have to call the manufacturer to get my money back.

They really think I'm stupid, and I can't figure out why. I was tossing around possible reasons with my husband, who wisely agreed that he couldn't figure out why they thought I was stupid either. I came up with the theory that I must look like trailer trash and everyone thinks they can pull one over on me.

It's a theory anyway. Any other ideas?

Sorry for the very angry post. Thanks for letting me rant.

My Love

One of the things I miss the most on my low-iodine diet is my milk. I use milk for my cereal, baking, etc. Furthermore, I can't have the essentials, like chocolate and ice-cream because of the milk in them.

So I set off on a quest to find some kind of substitute. At first, I thought maybe goat's milk would work. However, after asking the dairy guy at the store, I learned that goat's milk is considered dairy and has iodine in it, as well.

I can't have soy, so that eliminated that alternative.

Almond milk? It has sea salt in it (what??!!).

Oh!! I know! Oat's Milk! That will work! Until I read the label. It has soy in it, too. Why?

I was beginning to get quite discouraged and was on the verge of giving up.

And then, I saw it in the distance.

It was standing so tall and erect like a beacon in the night. I heard music playing softly in my head as I bridged the gap between us in slow motion, the wind gently blowing my hair in wisps across my face.

Coconut milk. I have found you at last. How have I ever lived before this moment. And the things you can do with ice-cream simply amaze me. Ours will be a long and beautiful relationship.

Yes, it will.

Yay! More Junk!!

I am getting ready to go on a little two-day trip tomorrow. Every time I leave my family, I feel like I will never see them again. I just hate being away from them for any length of time. Yes, I have issues.

I will be leaving in the afternoon and be back Monday evening, at which time we will have a camp-out in the back yard. I'm actually looking forward to that. I just love my family and spending time with them.

Today, I thought I would do some fun things with Allika since I won't get to see her for a few days. (Can you tell I'm really having a hard time with this?) She absolutely loves garage-saling, so we went to a few. It is difficult taking her at this point because she thinks she has to buy something at every sale. If I tell her we really don't need that right now, the obvious answer is, "Then why are we even garage-saling in the first place? Do we need any of this stuff right now?" Oh, the dilemmas with which our children present us.

I have tried that whole "buy it with your own money" thing, but that does not stop her from buying the first thing she sees at each sale until she runs out of money. It just doesn't teach her a thing about thinking through her purchases.

The solution I came up with was to tell her that she could only buy one thing for the whole day. She would have to make sure whatever she decided to buy was something she knew she really, really wanted because it would be the only thing she was getting the whole day.

Of course, she found what she could not live without at the very first garage sale. Ugh.

"Allika, you need to wait until you have looked at other garage sales because you might see something else you would rather have, and you won't be able to buy it."

"I know this is what I want. I don't want anything else."

Kind of defeats the whole point of taking your daughter garage-saling to spend some time together.

I told her she could not buy it until we had gone to all the other garage sales, and she still wanted it. I also added some fine print to which she agreed. If she bought it, she had to let me get rid of several of her things to make room for it. I am no dummy.

Well, at each new garage sale, she declared, "I don't see anything I want here. This is just other people's junk. Maybe that's why they're selling it, so other people will buy their junk." Very perceptive six-year-old.

I tried to convince her to buy another, more practical purchase that was $7.00 cheaper and took up much less room (about 3 sq. ft. worth), but she would have none of it. Even after I had the lady open the box and show us how it worked.

When it was all said and done, we made our way back to the original sale where, much to my chagrin, it was still there. I had been secretly hoping it would have sold while we were perusing the other sales.

(Yes, this is a blog for my daughter that she will read someday, and I will be exposed for what I am.)

My daughter came home the proud owner of a new contraption, and I promptly cashed in on our deal to rid her room of lots and lots of junk. It was kind of a win-win situation in the long run.

By way of an update on "The Thyroid," we found out that my insurance will cover the more convenient treatment that doesn't require me to go off my thyroid medicine for three weeks. The reason why this is a good thing is because it means I will not have to have really bad mood swings and not be able to get out of bed and function. Yay! That is an answer to prayer.

I am going to try to post something tomorrow because I have been marinating in this cool passage for a while now. I want to share it because it has really had an impact on me. If I don't get the time (with church and my trip and all), I will just have to contain my excitement until Tuesday.

Toodley-oo.

The Question

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.

Back to Normal?

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.

Scar Face

Tuesday night I went to class (If I miss more than two classes, I will fail the class, and I want to save those two classes for my radiation). I felt so awkward walking into a room full of people for the first time. I had debated covering it up, but the doctor had told me not to. Plus, I didn't have any bandages big enough to cover it without looking like a patch-work quilt. I was worried that people would think I had purposely left it uncovered just to gross people out and get a lot of attention.

I got to school just as another class-mate was arriving. I hurried ahead of her so she wouldn't catch up to me and see it. Good thing I accomplished that since I still had to walk into the classroom. I just felt so weird about the moment that everyone would see me for the first time since surgery.

Well, I made it through class, not without very self-conscious feelings though. Especially when the girl sitting across from me was trying to eat her salad. I kept wanting to apologize and cover up my scar. Sometimes, I have to stop myself from saying, "I'm so sorry about my scar. I know it's really gross. I would cover it up, but the doctor doesn't want me to."

In a small way (because a scar on my neck isn't even close to what some people have had to experience), it all makes me very aware of what it must feel like to be a person who doesn't quite fit in. Whether that person brings it upon themselves by assuming that others view them in a negative way or whether others really do view them in a negative way, it is extremely hard to socialize with people when you feel like a freak.

The next time you think less of a person because they are acting strange or introverted, try to remember that maybe it is because they feel very insecure and self-conscious and are battling a lot of voices inside their heads that are telling them they are inferior or gross or annoying and they should just leave the room.

Maybe, instead of judging them so you can make it easier to dismiss them, you could go over and talk with them and try to make them feel more comfortable. They might act a little reserved when you first approach them because they think they want to be left alone so they don't bother anyone. What they really want, though, is for someone to help them snap out of their fears and make them realize they are just like everyone else. One of my classmates did that for me when I sat at a table by myself. She said, "No, you can't sit over there all by yourself. You need to move over here by us." Reluctantly, I did, and they began to talk to me about my surgery and told me how great my scar looked and how glad they were that I was there.

Yes, it is very childish of me to go to those places in my mind, but the reality is that I have gone there. We all probably do. We all need each other to reach out and help us through those weak moments when we feel like our flaws define us or our weaknesses have gotten the best of us or our mistakes have devalued us.

So, if there is someone in your life who might need a little encouragement, I hope you will just take a moment to let them know they are important to you.

And if you are one of those people who is feeling kind of icky, I hope you will realize that you are so much more than the imperfections and failures in your life. On the flip-side of that, those scars and wounds you've received have played either a small or large part in who you have become. They do not define you, but they are tools that helped to shape you. Since you are such a special and unique person with so much to offer the world, you can be thankful for and embrace those tools, however painful they may have been at the time.

Having said all that, here are some of the pictures of my scars. I didn't expect it to be so hard to post these. I kept going through the different photos looking for the best ones, as if I would all-of-a-sudden click on the next picture and it would be pretty. Well, they are what they are, folks, and they are a part of me, albeit a very small one because I am so much more than the scar on my neck.




This is before the stitches were taken out.



Side view after the stitches were removed. There is even more swelling than before they removed the stitches.



Front view after the stitches were removed