"I will not let cancer make me feel ashamed"

 I rememer the shame.  It was thick, heavy, dark.  I wanted to hide.  We had taken so many hits in the first few weeks of my diagnosis. They day they upgraded my diagnosi to stage IV metasatic.  It was still "treatable" and we were moving forward with the exact same treatment plan as the week before.  That didnt matter to me that day.  I apologized to Mark several times on the drive home.  I didnt even know what I was aplolgizing for....I just knew in my core that I MUST apologize.  Until he finally said, "STOP APOLOGIZING".  So I did.  But the shame lingered for a few weeks.

I had to really press in and get close to Jesus.  I had to rage and cry.  I had to sleep and stare at the wall, waiting desperately for a word of hope.  Finally peace came.  I was able to look my children, my husband, my parents in the eye without shrinking back or looking away.  That is when I was fully ready to get going on things. Until I could lay aside the shame I was not ready to fight.  Until I stuffed the shame in the garbage can I was shrinking in fear.  I am so thankful that I was able to move through it. 

Today, almost 2 years out from diagnosis, I recieved a podcast notifiation with the title I used for this blog.  I will not let cancer make me feel ashamed.  What a good reminder.  I'm thankful to be walking days and weeks and months away from this diagnosis.  But I am also thankful to be reminded of the beautiful lessons I have learned along the way.  

Today I was reminded that I do not need to carry shame for any reason.  Today I am reminded that this life I am living is a gift!  A GIFT. Medicine says I should not be in remission right now.  But I am walking in healing.  Today is a good day to take stock of things for which I am thankful.  Will you join me in making this list?

I am thankful for:

• Life in my body
• No migraine headaches any more
• my beautiful grandson
• my beautiful children ( Caleb, Bekah and now Emily)
  
• my parter in all things, Welby
• this home I am sitting in
• my parents are alive and well after a nasty bout of COVID
• my brother and sister in love
• my niece and nephew
• sweet Iko boy
• the work I do
• music in my heart
• this beautiful fall we have had 

I could go on and on.....

Life is hard right now.  I think everyone is feeling pulled and stretched to uncomfortable limits. I am tired right along with the rest of you.  This little moment has been helpful for me to refocus my gaze on what is good.  I'm not pretending all the hard bits are gone, I am simply acknowledging the many good bits that are right here in my reach.

In the podcast I listened to this morning this is what encouraged me to look at these things:

Phillipians 1:19-20 

9 for I know that through your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance.[a] 20 I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death.

If you have prayed for me of with me while on this journey, thank you!  It is because of you that I am here today.

Make your gratititude list!  Do it now!  Life is challenging, but you can focus on the good things as well.

Blessings.

Jade

almost 1 year later....

 Well, this year has just been crazy! 

- Finishing up Chemo

- Bekah graduated

- Bilateral mastectomy

- Started back to work - in person - during COVID 19 pandemic

- Bekah started college

- Reconstruction surgery

- Back to work- in person again - after a 6 week closure

And that just gets us to December.

I have been frustrated with myself this year for feeling tired, for getting sick at times due to meds, for being weak.  So many people have told me to be gentle with myself.  I felt frustrated by that too.  And as I look at this list tears fall down my face.  WOW....This body has been through it!  And here I stand.  Weak, tired, healed but not yet fully well, working to figure out this new body I reside in.  And sometimes it just isn't pretty.  BUT, I'm standing!  

And Oh my!  I have laughed.  I get to go to work with some wonderful adults and even more wonderful children!  What a privilege it is it do the work I do.  My job is, for the most part, a place and space of joy and wonder.  I am so thankful everyday that I get to go there.  It makes it easier to get out of bed when I am sick or weak or tired. 

When I was going through treatment I remember seeing a flyer in the oncology office. It said something to the effect of, "done with treatment?  Now what?  come to this support group for more information"  that's the general sentiment anyway.  And I wondered why in the world anyone would need support in knowing what to do next.  You go live your life.....right?  Well, yes.  But not really.  Here is the 100% truth.  A year ago I was fighting stage IV (that's 4 if you don't know your roman numerals) breast cancer.  Today I am cancer free.  Today I also have to go to Physical therapy to learn to use this body I have.  Today I have to see my oncologist (whom I adore) once a month.  Today I have to take meds.  Meds that make me sick and hurt.  Meds that suppress my immune system  Today I have to have "routine" PET scans every 3 or 4 months.   Now I'm wondering if I can find that flyer somewhere!  Goodness, it's a lot to process.  And the "routine" PET scans incite a terror in me I cannot even begin to describe.  (Any survivors out there who can relate? I would love to hear from you on how you cope with this) It is completely out of my control and it is very real!  So, when my oncologist says it's time again I start the cycle again.   I have tools, and I use them.  But OH MAN!  This is work folks!  No two ways about it, staying sane and in my body for the week leading up to a PET scan is a full time job!  If you pray, I would appreciate your prayers!  If you worship, sing for me!  I deeply appreciate it.  Next "routine" PET scan on May 10.

I keep putting quotation marks around routine because these tests are anything but that!  They check you in and put you in a room that has a biohazard sign on the door with a warning.  You are invited to sit in a comfy recliner in said room. You know, the one with the warning on the door.  Then, a nurse in full hazmat gear comes in and asks if you are comfy.  Then, if you are comfy, shoots you up with radioactive dye.  I'm not joking, it comes in a stainless steel syringe in a small carrying case with foam in it.  And then they invite you to sit back, relax and take a nap while the dye pulses through your veins. Then the fun really begins as they invite you into the scan room where you get to lay down with your arms over your head (which is tricky when you've had a mastectomy) in a tube not much larger than an MRI tube.  Oh the joy!  Then, after 20 to 30 minutes, you get to get out of the tube and they tell you that you can go about your normal life....except for coming in contact with pregnant women or newborn babies.  That inspires confidence!  Generally I spend the next 4 to 5 hours throwing up....so, yeah, normal life!  (: Truly, I would love some prayer around this.  I'm not the bravest soul when it comes time for this.

And as I write this I am listening to a new album, Old Church Basement.  One song in particular

wait on you - Elevation Worship with Maverick City Music

and as I write about my very real fears I listen to these very real truths and find peace once again.   "That's what happens when you wait!"

My dear friends, this wild ride has been so challenging and so rewarding and is ongoing.  I did not realize it would be.  I figured I would end this blog because I was done.  But I'm not done yet.  And this is a really helpful outlet.  So, thanks for sticking with me on this journey!

Until next time!