March Madness & Celebrations

A supportive guy, VERY relieved 3/31/06 surgery is over!

Originally "penned" March 2013

and edited March 2015

     Easter and springtime are life-giving celebrations. Both of my children were born during the Easter season (one on Easter). AND, on April 1, 2006, I awoke. Free. A virulent poison was removed. April Fool's, cancer.


     I'll never forget people's special acts of kindness and love. The [long-time special friends'] group prayer at my home, Rebecca's gift cards for food, and Nevelle's personally-delivered plant. They kept me grounded to life, to fight, for the people I love. They encouraged me to press through months of pain and chemo. I wanted to live, for future life events like weddings, grandbabies, and more. 

Nostalgic arrangement from my sister-in-law

     The pictured vase and sheep have a special story. Mom owned them when she was alive, and it was passed on to my Chicago Sister-in-law. She secretly mailed them both to my son with money to buy the roses. When I arrived home from the hospital, the deja-vu, nostalgic arrangement on my dinette table temporarily jarred and uplifted me, with the endearing note: I hope this arrangement helps you feel like your Mom is cheering you on from heaven. Priceless!!

     I celebrate many new-life, springtime things, including 9 years of freedom. My 2.5-hour-long double mastectomy removing stage 2, grade 3, her2 neu, aggressive cancer occurred during 2006 March Madness. Each year as we watch hours of televised games, an inescapable reminder glares at me... of my personal March Madness. Months of painful recuperation, sickening chemo treatments, degrading hair loss and baldness, extended chemo fog, and then Tamoxifen meds slamming my body and emotions into 1,000-mph cray-cray menopause. All MAD! I stand on the other side of all of that, gratefully embracing my BS and MM degrees.


First stomach-turning chemo treatment

     I experience new life in a distinctive way and cherish family get-togethers, adventures to the Sears Tower and Chicago land in general, grandchild encounters, special friend activities, crafting encounters, movies, dates and nature adventures with my husband, and holidays... especially Easter!

Degrading balding & cray-cray menopause
mega-zappers to self-esteem

     Jesus is risen, and I, too, can each day live the resurrected life. I feel the Hunger Games competitiveness of everyday life, but it is coupled with a forever perspective. I seek helpful Reinforcement when I waiver, attempting to do what is just and right, including handling painful blows to my mid-50's identity. My senses are awake to a dynamic world. But tip-toeing so near to death's reality makes me ever-mindful of my final destination.

     IF I had been defeated on this earth, I know I would reside in a forever perfect place. That would be ideal. But instead, this world is still my home, and it is indeed very good.

I CAN'T WAIT! (Part II) 12-25-2012

This is a somehwhat progressive blog. Feel FREE to begin by clicking to my first post: Boologging Begins

Merry Christmas! I CAN'T WAIT until tomorrow to post, so here we go! This picture of our 2010 Christmas gift is a special treasure, and he continues to be an energetic joy!

Now to continue with the agonizing WAIT for my 2006 cancer surgery and lymph node report...

At times, I feel hopeless. Night-time, terror-filled hours are few, but I face them. (I confess that Benedryl zonked me out once or twice). Having a calming drink to lighten my worries and numb away hopeless feelings would have been harmless, right? Why not opt for the path of least resistance? I have free-will after all.

The little choices I make, day-by-day, month-by-month, year-by-year create today's me. One decision paves the way for the next, and my children are watching. I am the sum total of all of my seemingly unimportant, little decisions. My dehydrated body forces me... to face each day, sober... and maybe it encourages life-creating, critical thinking.

How do I spell relief? CANCER-FREE SENTINEL NODE. Oh, what a relief it is to hear the resounding words from my skilled surgeon: Tests on your sentinel node show no signs of cancer.

Woo hoo and giddy up! Cartwheels and dancing are appropriate responses, but, oh my... the arms don't want to raise, the drains in my chest are awkward and disgusting; so, for a long while, dancing will be only in my dreams. 

Each day I am pregnant with promise and with hope, especially during the Christmas season (because of my grand baby's specially-timed birth). My hope is in a special Baby Boy, born in a humble stable, placed in an ordinary manger. A Heavenly choir of angels and a bright, sparkly, shining star announced His seemingly ordinary birth.

The Jews WAITED and WAITED, for generations, to see their Savior, but they missed His birth and challenged His credibility. Lowly shepherds on nearby hills FREELY chose to travel to the newborn. Richly-robed wise men were compelled, and FREELY traveled, long distances, to see the special child. No one was forced. Today, I freely choose to accept Him as my Savior, and I earnestly hope for His return.

Hope versus hopelessness. It is a minute-by-minute choice. This week I choose to:

1) Remember special births: Jesus' [& my grandson's]...
2) Practice the presence of Jesus; and...
3) WAIT... for His return.

Another thing for which I am grateful: The precious Baby Jesus. Merry Christmas!

Just one more post and this blogging commitment will be history. Sunday, December 30th closes out this 2-month focus on personal freedom... Deo Volente.

I CAN'T WAIT! 12-21-2012

  This is a somehwhat progressive blog. Feel FREE to begin by clicking to my first post: Boologging Begins

 No more counting down to 12/21/12. In many parts of the world the 21st is history. Now it is time to think about 12/22/2012. We celebrate my grandson's second birthday, and I'm glad the world isn't ending! We have special plans which include a lighted backyard bench and a birthday video. I CAN'T WAIT! 

This entry should be posted on the 23rd, on Sunday, but I am early... because... I CAN'T WAIT!!

We were WAITING just 2 years ago for our Christmas baby's birth. During the months leading up to December I posted Facebook pictures of the size of the fetus at weeks 8, 9, 10 and so on. Grandchild #1 was due on December 19th, and I couldn't wait to meet the little life my daughter was incubating; waiting to touch and count his 10 precious fingers and toes. 

Maybe I was (and still am) grandchild-consumed because I am grateful to even be alive after staring death in the face and surviving. In 2006 I was diagnosed with stage 2, grade 3 aggressive breast cancer. After prayers, surgery, chemo, and medications, I see every special and wonder-filled moment as a bonus gift.

We arrive to the snowy, slick 2010 Chicago suburbs late on December 20th, Momma's spirits are anything but cheery after doctor's orders of: No inducement for another week.

She is ready to pop. So, to distract her, of course we head to the Gap; and fortunately we are all spared slipping on the black ice that had surprised a few shoppers just ahead of us! Just 17 hours later labor begins, and 7 hours after that, we energetically welcome our healthy, 7 lb. 11 oz. Christmas gift.

Christmas and waiting go hand-in-hand. I guess that is part of the fun. Traditions create the festive drama. Dad was not a handyman; but somehow, for Mom, he outlined our home's roof with lights. We drove miles and miles to cut down a live tree; ethereal Mom always selected the saddest, most crooked trees. Wires were painstakingly threaded through curtain rods and wrapped around the skinny, upper tree trunk to make it stand up. 

Creative Mom hand-sewed an advent calendar for the 6 of us to take turns placing tiny, hand-made ornaments onto. Treasures like that accentuated the 25-day WAIT. On Christmas Eve, I lay in bed, eyes wide open, earnestly waiting for the midnight "Ho, ho, ho" from Dad for the mad dash to see our gifts. Mom knew that none of us would sleep a wink if they saved gift-opening time until morning.

WAITING... for Christmas and for babies... are special and hope-filled times; WAITING... for my 2006 cancer surgery was not. I would have done almost anything to numb my thoughts as I waited endless days AND a few scary nights for surgery:  Is cancer spreading to other parts of my body through my lymph nodes? 

That question would be answered post-surgery; and it seems appropriate to WAIT, until Part II, to share my surgery results...

Another thing for which I am grateful: Hope-filled holidays.

Just two more posts and this commitment will be fulfilled. I will be FREE of this two-blog-a-week commitment! Part II of this post is planned for Wednesday, December 26th, but might come earlier, if I CAN'T WAIT... Deo Volente.