It's been a while since I last posted. In my steps to a healthy recovery, I chose to sift through a lot of garbage and baggage, too. It's been a 3 month process, but I'm just about there.
In my journey, I knew I was meant to tell stories of strong women. I have compiled all my research and now working on the final format. Being my own worst proof-reader (as you will notice in my blogs :P), I'm creating literary art and not so worried about spelling or grammar. And, I'm pleased with this acceptance that it is okay to have my own style of writing and not forced to create otherwise.
I plan to blog daily, being much shorter in length than the past posts. In doing so, I hope more of daily humor will flow through my fingertips.
In summary: my house, soul, and well being are getting a face-lift. The church will get the sifting of material goods for their garage sale. The Lord and I have sifted through the soul and I see daily signs he is pleased (so am I). Shake Off That Garbage! And, my well-being is my daily goal. The old saying, "When mama ain't happy, nobody's happy" sums it up well. Feel good, look good, love with gusto, laugh outloud, and praise and give thanks to the One above. Yes, this is my job to discover how to do these well! When I do, those around me are nurtured and healthy, too.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Yes, you need your spouse's total and undivided support
In my last blog, I mentioned how badly I shook during each radiation treatment. It's nothing like I was the day I got married. A lovely outside wedding backing up to a creek in the exclusive Bent Tree development of Dallas. Cinderella couldn't have asked for a more perfect setting.
Having waited a long while to get married, I was 36 and very independent. The last few minutes before the ceremony, everything happened all at once and I started panicking. The wind wouldn't allow the white aisle runner to stay in place, the flower girl and train bearer were switching out head pieces, I never got the second coat of polish on my nails, everyone was asking questions and my head was spinning.
The photographer wanted to come into the bride's room and take candid pictures and all I wanted to do was stick my hand in front of the camera like Sean Penn's response to the paparazzi. The wedding party was being called and I heard the wedding march begin. I couldn't breathe.
My size 6 dress began to feel like a size 0. My dear friend, Mike Sanders, started cracking jokes to calm me down. My body went into a strange mode - it was like an out of body experience. I don't know how I got into position with my father to my side. . . . surely it wasn't my own two feet. . . . it had to be divine intervention.
As dad and I stood waiting our turn to proceed, I saw my whole "single" life flying in front of me. The thought of becoming a runaway bride crossed my mind. Good Lord, I had been on my own for so many lonely years and yet, all those years I never had to share the tv remote or confer with someone on an expense over $500.
I know this sounds trivial, but a good party dress might need clearance from this day forward!
And so the nervous shaking began. First it was my knees, then my shoulders, then my bottom lip and chin, until my whole body was quivering. Then I felt the tug by my father that it was time to go, it was our turn.
We walked a short distance before turning down the aisle and once we made that life changing turn. . . . that only took a split second. . . . my eyes met Danny's and there was a bond like no other. I caught my breath and couldn't wait to begin my new life with my prince charming. Move over Cinderella!
When I first felt the lump, I showed Danny. He remained positive that it was only a cyst and I had nothing to worry about. Deep within, I knew it was more and began secretly preparing myself for the worst.
For those of you who know Danny, he isn't a man of many words unless it's a subject he thoroughly enjoys, like classic cars or Humphrey Bogart. I didn't know how to ask for help without him thinking I was weak. He had never been around anyone terribly ill before except for his mother who succumbed to cancer when he was 11. Whoaaaaa! Like thunder announces a storm, I recognized we both were scared to death.
My doctors and nurses were excellent in preparing me on what to expect. I would share this information with Danny and somehow the words I needed for him to hear got lost in translation. I needed his support in so many different ways.
I took to the Internet and began reading articles and postings. I even corresponded in the wee hours of the morning with a young mother of 3 children under the age of 7 with metastatic cancer. Although receiving a second round of chemo, her chances of surviving were slim and she knew it. She stayed strong during the day for her family but at night she allowed honesty to flow with those of us who were listening.
In my searches, I found a site that recommended reading material for patients and their families. I ordered a book for Danny and another one for me. If Danny read it or just thumbed through it I don't know, but it was almost immediately I saw a change in how he responded to my needs. He became both mother and father; did the household shopping and cleaning; in parenting he was the bad guy and allowed me to be the good guy; he never said a word on the days I couldn't get out of bed and my meals were delivered upstairs.
Cancer can be so lonely, but it doesn't need to be. Those of us who hesitate on asking for help must swallow our pride. Those of us who only offer hints as to our needs, must learn to articulate. Those of us who ask and the other party doesn't hear, don't give up but ask again making eye contact. And, for those of us who have asked must not feel badly for the asking. Stop apologizing - let your friends and family take care of you - they can be your best cheerleaders and we all need lots of cheer throughout this dreadful experience.
Recommended books:
Breast Cancer Husband: How to Help Your Wife (and Yourself) during Diagnosis, Treatment and Beyond by Mark Silver.
Just Get Me Through This!: The Practical Guide to Breast Cancer by Deborah A. Cohen
and Robert M. Gelfand, MD
Both at Amazon.com
Next: No two kids are alike when handling life's curve balls.
Having waited a long while to get married, I was 36 and very independent. The last few minutes before the ceremony, everything happened all at once and I started panicking. The wind wouldn't allow the white aisle runner to stay in place, the flower girl and train bearer were switching out head pieces, I never got the second coat of polish on my nails, everyone was asking questions and my head was spinning.
The photographer wanted to come into the bride's room and take candid pictures and all I wanted to do was stick my hand in front of the camera like Sean Penn's response to the paparazzi. The wedding party was being called and I heard the wedding march begin. I couldn't breathe.
My size 6 dress began to feel like a size 0. My dear friend, Mike Sanders, started cracking jokes to calm me down. My body went into a strange mode - it was like an out of body experience. I don't know how I got into position with my father to my side. . . . surely it wasn't my own two feet. . . . it had to be divine intervention.
As dad and I stood waiting our turn to proceed, I saw my whole "single" life flying in front of me. The thought of becoming a runaway bride crossed my mind. Good Lord, I had been on my own for so many lonely years and yet, all those years I never had to share the tv remote or confer with someone on an expense over $500.
I know this sounds trivial, but a good party dress might need clearance from this day forward!
And so the nervous shaking began. First it was my knees, then my shoulders, then my bottom lip and chin, until my whole body was quivering. Then I felt the tug by my father that it was time to go, it was our turn.
We walked a short distance before turning down the aisle and once we made that life changing turn. . . . that only took a split second. . . . my eyes met Danny's and there was a bond like no other. I caught my breath and couldn't wait to begin my new life with my prince charming. Move over Cinderella!
+ + + + +
When I first felt the lump, I showed Danny. He remained positive that it was only a cyst and I had nothing to worry about. Deep within, I knew it was more and began secretly preparing myself for the worst.
For those of you who know Danny, he isn't a man of many words unless it's a subject he thoroughly enjoys, like classic cars or Humphrey Bogart. I didn't know how to ask for help without him thinking I was weak. He had never been around anyone terribly ill before except for his mother who succumbed to cancer when he was 11. Whoaaaaa! Like thunder announces a storm, I recognized we both were scared to death.
My doctors and nurses were excellent in preparing me on what to expect. I would share this information with Danny and somehow the words I needed for him to hear got lost in translation. I needed his support in so many different ways.
I took to the Internet and began reading articles and postings. I even corresponded in the wee hours of the morning with a young mother of 3 children under the age of 7 with metastatic cancer. Although receiving a second round of chemo, her chances of surviving were slim and she knew it. She stayed strong during the day for her family but at night she allowed honesty to flow with those of us who were listening.
In my searches, I found a site that recommended reading material for patients and their families. I ordered a book for Danny and another one for me. If Danny read it or just thumbed through it I don't know, but it was almost immediately I saw a change in how he responded to my needs. He became both mother and father; did the household shopping and cleaning; in parenting he was the bad guy and allowed me to be the good guy; he never said a word on the days I couldn't get out of bed and my meals were delivered upstairs.
Cancer can be so lonely, but it doesn't need to be. Those of us who hesitate on asking for help must swallow our pride. Those of us who only offer hints as to our needs, must learn to articulate. Those of us who ask and the other party doesn't hear, don't give up but ask again making eye contact. And, for those of us who have asked must not feel badly for the asking. Stop apologizing - let your friends and family take care of you - they can be your best cheerleaders and we all need lots of cheer throughout this dreadful experience.
Recommended books:
Breast Cancer Husband: How to Help Your Wife (and Yourself) during Diagnosis, Treatment and Beyond by Mark Silver.
Just Get Me Through This!: The Practical Guide to Breast Cancer by Deborah A. Cohen
and Robert M. Gelfand, MD
Both at Amazon.com
Next: No two kids are alike when handling life's curve balls.
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