Tuesdays with Naqvi--Herceptin#35

Today is my last chemo of 2013!

As we celebrate the coming of a new year, it's customary to reflect on the old, to review regrets and resolutions, to remember our many blessings, to refresh our lives, and to renew our faith.  The new year offers each of us a chance at a new beginning, to start again, to set goals, to improve our own lives, and to change the lives of others.   

In reflecting on 2013, I see great challenges, pain, suffering, sadness, loss, and sickness, but I also marvel at the blessings, growth, learning, service, testimony, and miracles.  2013 has been a great and terrible year---mostly terrible, sprinkled with great things, too.  I have thought a lot about this holiday season and the timing of my diagnosis this year.  Last New Year's Eve, I already knew about the breast lump.  I already had a scheduled mammogram for mid-December, but insurance concerns pushed it back to January.  At that time, I truly believed there was nothing to worry about, so I didn't worry.  I was able to enjoy the entire holiday season of 2012 without the pain and despair of cancer.  We had Thanksgiving with family, our first Christmas in our new home, and rang in the new year without burden or fear.  We were blessed not have our happiness clouded and to celebrate fully.  How different that Christmas would have been if my mammoram hadn't been delayed!   This year, the hardest part is  over, so we were again able to celebrate and rejoice because we can see the light at the end of the tunnel.  We continue to be blessed.  I set goals in January and met many of them.  I've been blessed with amazing family and friends, who have jumped at the opportunity to serve and be The Lord's hands in my life.  My boys have been healthy and happy and continue to be resilient.  Stephen loves his job, and the blessing from that are too many to list.  I survived chemo, hair loss, and 3 surgical procedures.  I have made connections and new friends, have been able to share my faith through my experiences, and have found purpose in trials.  

Yes, 2013 has been hard, but that's life.  The Man in Black {from The Princess Bride} once said, "Life IS pain....anyone who says differently is selling something."  Life is not meant to be happiness and harmony, smooth sailling, or an easy, pain-free journey. We all have good times and bad, but the way to measure success is how we deal with the the hard times.  Do we continue to look for silver linings or do we complain?  Do we hold tight to faith or look for ways to disprove it?  Do we serve others or wallow in self pity?  It's not easy to endure great challenges.  Not everyone can go through difficult times and come out stronger because that is hard.  As the great Jimmy Dugan tells us, "It's supposed to be hard.  If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it.  The hard.....is what makes it great."  That is my quote for 2013---The hard is what has made it great.

         

Tuesdays with Naqvi--Herceptin #34

It's a quiet Christmas Eve here at chemo.  I'm the only one in the office, and it's given me some time for quiet reflection, reminiscent of another Christmas Eve, so long ago.  I decided to reread the Christmas story, found in Luke 2 and to also read other references about Mary and the angel who first brought her the news that she would be the mother of Christ, of Joseph, of Elisabeth, and of the early years after Jesus was born.  

In thinking about the eve of the Savior's birth, questions come to mind.  Had Joseph and Mary barely  stumbled into town, late, in order to quickly find a place to stay so Mary could give birth?  Most likely not.  This is what the scriptures say:

And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judæa, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem...to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.  And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. {Luke 2:4-6}  

We know that Joseph and Mary made a long journey, but we don't know for sure which road they took from Nazareth to Bethlehem.  We don't know if they walked or rode, or if Joseph walked, pulling a very pregnant Mary on a donkey, or could it have been a camel?  We don't know if the couple traveled alone or in a caravan.  What we do know is that they made the journey, which was close to 100 miles and probably took 4-5 days.  Questions arise of where they stayed along the way or did the journey take them longer than it might normally take because of Mary's condition?  Although this type of travel was most likely unpleasant for Mary, being "great with child," she probably was not in labor, on a donkey, in the cold of winter, on an unfamiliar road, barely making it to town, dilated and ready to go.  In the bibilical account it says, "while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered."  Jospeh and Mary made it to Bethlehem and stayed long enough for the birth of her baby.  We are not told how long this took--maybe a few days, maybe weeks.  We are not told where they stayed for these "days," only that "she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn."  {Luke 2:7}  Was the inn like a hotel of modern times?  Or was it more like today when all the children/grandchildren/aunts/uncles of different families go back to their hometowns over holidays, and someone gets stuck sleeping on an air-up mattress in the dining room?  Maybe the best guest quarters Joseph and Mary could find was more like today's pull-out couch in the living room, not a suitable place to give birth.  They possibly retreated to the stable out back, so as not to wake the entire house during that painful process.  

There are many details the scriptures leave out of this story.  How in the world did these two, young, probably scared, inspiring people endure this process?  I have been "great with child" 3 times, and there's a reason doctors tell you not to travel that late in the game.  I cannot imagine having to walk over rocky, dirty, dusty terrain, or ride on a dirty, smelly donkey--or camel--almost 100 miles in that condition.  I don't even want to have to think about sleeping on the side of the road in the middle of the wilderness while on that journey, in fear of bandits, having only the food and supplies we'd carried on a donkey---or camel--but had to ration for the entire trip.  {I'm sure I didn't even want to take a road trip in a climate controlled vehicle, with the ability to make stops at restaurants, and a comfy bed to sleep in upon arrival.}  Mary had probably already had to endure some gossip/anger/questioning from family members and acquaintances about this whole pregnancy thing, since she was only Joseph's espoused wife and still--somehow--great with child.  Then, the couple arrived in Behtlehem after an arduous travel exprience, probably having to explain the story to family there.  {"What?  You're pregnant?  We haven't had a wedding yet!  Is it yours, Joseph? Oh, *I see,* you're still a virgin and this baby is *special.*  Uh-huh.}  The stable was probably a welcome reprieve from scoffs and those who might not have understood.  

While they were there, the days were accomplished, and it was finally time for Jesus to be born.  After that long, uncomfortable, tiring journey, with days of uncomfortable, not-restful sleep, Mary then had to endure labor--not in the clean, comfortable, modern birthing rooms of hospitals of today, with plenty of trained medical personnel by her side, but in a place away from her home, wherever they were staying when there was no room for them at the inn.  I know women give birth naturally all the time, but I quite enjoyed letting an epidural remove the pain from the situation.  I can't imagine having to do all that Mary did after all she'd already been through.  Maybe she had someone other than Joseph to assist in the birth...maybe not.  Maybe she was warm enough....maybe not.  Maybe there was enough light to see what was happening...maybe not.  Maybe she had been able to catch up on her sleep after the uncomfortable journey....maybe not.  We do know that after all that traveling, all that exhaustion, all that pain, all of that unsurety of where they would stay and how they would possible be able to do this thing, she brought forth that holy child and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger.  In that one moment, all the suffering and exhaustion and pain and fear and questioning and anxiety became peace, joy, love, happiness, light, charity, miracles, and the greatest gift ever given.  

When I think of all the suffering, frustration, heartache, the fear of the unknown, the hard work, the exhaustion, and the pain Mary {and Joseph} experienced in the time leading up to Jesus' birth, I can't help relating it, in a small way, to the times when we experience trials, heartache, or suffering.  While in the midst of a difficult time, we might only feel the pain, see the sadness, and experience the difficulty of walking the dirty, rocky, uneven roads.  At some point, however, our suffering ceases, our pain subsides, our sadness lifts, and the unbearable parts of our trials are removed.  There might not be angels singing at that moment, but if we look hard enough, we can see the light, the blessings, the peace and joy and happiness that comes from experiencing something difficult and making it through to the other side.  This is my hope, what keeps me going on this long, trying path.

One of my favorite parts of the story of Jesus' birth is near the end.  Although choirs of angels sang out and shared the great tidings and shepherds spread the word around, "Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart."  She had been through hell and back and was also blessed beyond what her words could express.  At times when we experience some of the most dificult trials in our lives, we are often also buoyed up by the love and blessings of those around us and of our Savior, whose birth we celebrate tomorrow.  I have felt that this year.  Although I would gladly send angels to sing praises to all who have lifted us up, I will ponder this time always and keep the lessons I've learned near and dear to my heart.  

    

 

Tuesdays with Naqvi--Herceptin #33

It's harder and harder to come here each week, to find someone to watch the boys, to make all of the preparations that are invovled, to get everyone where they need to be, to know I'm going to be exhausted, and to try to get everything done on the Mondays before chemo so things that need to be done for the following few days are still done, even when I don't feel like doing it.  And I still have so many more weeks to go!  Some days I feel like just skipping it.  Do I REALLY need to keep coming, especially since I've had both breasts removed?  Will it REALLY make that much of a difference?  I have this conversation over and over with myself.  And I usually end up at the point of.....if cancer DID come back and I hadn't done everything I could possibly do to prevent it, I would have no one to blame but myself.  So, I keep on coming.  

It seems like everything I'm on {the case with many drugs} has some sort of side effect, complicating the treatment process.  My current chemo has the not-so-thrilling side effect of possible cardiomyopathy.  I have en echocardiogram every 3 months to monitor my heart, and if I start to develop signs of the disease, I have to postpone chemo for at least 3 months.  The thought of this gives me heart palpitations because this possibility would just lengthen an already distant finish line.  And, knowing my luck, this would be something that would add to the *fun* and *excitement* and teach me *so much* about patience and humility.  Thankfully, my results have been positive so far.  {I just received the good news that my latest echo came back fine!} My prayers are that this wrinkle in the time frame won't appear.  

The estrogen-blocking drug I take also has side effects.  So far, thankfully, nothing too crazy has affected me.  There's changes to my menstral cycle and possible early menopause.  I also have to take aspirin to prevent blood clots.  None of this is terribly vexing.  The most visible concern is what's going on with my emotions.  I seem to be all over the place, emotionally.  I'm almost always on the verge of tears these days.  Reading Christmas stories with my boys, making comments to the Young Women at chruch, hearing touching stories on the radio, even watching movies that should NOT elicits tears have all started the water works going.  {I mean, I was watching the end of CLICK, of all movies, waiting for a show to come on.  CLICK---Adam Sandler!!  And BAWLING!!!  WHAT IS THE DEAL?!?}

In the spirit of seeing silver linings, I'm hoping that this new emotional sensitivity is helping me be more in tune, helping me focus on the importance of the little things, and adding to my gratitude for all of my blessings.  One example: The Baby is sick.  Nothing crazy, just a cough and runny nose.  A few days ago, I woke up around 4:30 because he was in bed with us, cuddled up to me.  He had climbed out of his crib, made his way downstairs and into our room in the dark, climbed up into bed, and snuggled in next to me.  Letting children sleep in our bed is something we don't do, but he was so still and so quiet, and I knew he wasn't feeling well, and he's The Baby, so I let him stay for about an hour until he started moving around and making noise.  Is it possible to be thankful for sick children, when it's something not so serious?  Part of me has enjoyed the excuse to slow down, snuggle, and be needed.  {My oldest and my baby are not natural cuddlers, but they are when they're sick.  And it's nice to be needed and loved, and if I only get that show of affection when they're not feeling well, maybe that's the silver lining.}  Having him be sick and need to just be held has forced me to slow down, too.  I will never have these moments again, and I want to take them all in.  Sometimes the laundry and the dishes can wait--we need to drink hot chocolate and snuggle under blankets and watch Mickey.  I have such a short time to be the mother of little children, and other things can wait.  I never want to forget how each of my children are as they grow.  

Maybe as we all experience trials---on a small or large scale---we turn more to our Father in Heaven.  Maybe that's a small part of why He allows us to experience difficulties, pains, and sadness, so there will be reasons for us to slow down and realize how much we need Him.  Some of us just might not be natural "cuddlers" and might need a little challenge in order to become more meek, humble, and submissive.   Some of us are so used to doing things "mineself" that we need to be taught and compelled to rely on others.  And by "some of us" I mean "me," as I realize that this journey is not just about beating cancer--it's about going through a refiner's fire and coming out stronger.  And if part of my experience is learning to be more sensitive, more patient, and more humble, I've still got a long way to go.

                   

Day After Herceptin

There are many difficult and frustrating things about my experiences with cancer, but my top two most difficult and frustrating things have to do with having cancer AND young children and the expectations I put on myself.

I look back on the year and wonder how we were able to make it this far.  It was definitely NOT on our own.  I've had more help than I can list here--family and friends coming to stay and take over when I couldn't get out of bed.  There have been helpers making dinners, doing shopping, cleaning my home, babysitting the boys, helping the boys get to and from school, and babysitting the boys some more.  The list of service goes on and on, and I doubt we would have been able to function without it.  Having young children and cancer is not easy.  Not one bit.  I'm sick and in pain and have "boo-boos" of my own, so I'm compromised in fixing my boys' pains.  My patience level--already something I struggled with--is now even lower because I'm tired and rundown.  Not being able to lift and hold my children, race them through the park, and be a "normal" mom of little children is beyond frustrating.  I hope they know and feel that I love them, even though I'm different than I used to be.         
 Most people have high expectations for themselves, and women especially seem to want to juggle and balance many facets of life, all at the same time.  I am no different in that I want to be able to "do it all," but this disease and the treatment for it slows me down.  I'm better now than I've been at earlier points in the process--better at both allowing myself to NOT do some things AND feeling better to be able to do many of the things I want to do.  This time of year and all the fun events make it even more tempting to push the limits.  I'm feeling the effects of that pushing too hard today.  Staying up way too late to go to a Christmas party the same day probably doesn't help, either.

Now that the treatment process is easier than it has been, it's easy to forget, to almost pretend that none of it exists.....until I can't lift my arms to change a light bulb or have to use a shovel to push open the garage door because getting it to reach the top is out of my range of motion.  I even think I'm a "regular" mom, until another Tuesday rolls around, and I have to find someone to watch my babies while I sit in the oncologist's chair again.  Having children and cancer is difficult and frustrating, but my children are also a huge motivator to not give up, to stay strong.  I have many reasons to get up everyday, to keep on fighting, and to keep trying to live up to my own expectations--and the most important of those reasons all live under the same roof.

    

Tuesdays with Naqvi--Herceptin #32

Only 20 more chemo days to go!  That feels like something worth celebrating!  The countdown in on.

Another countdown is on in our household: the countdown to Christmas.  I absolutely love this time of year.  I love the spirit of Christmas, the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, the love and brotherly kindness that seems to flow more generously, reflection at the close of one year and the rebirth of another, the traditions, the parties, the giving, the decorations, and all the joy and magic of the holiday.  I love blending the traditions of the families in which Stephen and I both grew up and making new traditions and memories in our own family.  I enjoy seeing how other families celebrate and getting to share ideas to spread the love of Christ, which is the reason for the season.  Even those who don't share our faith usually have some traditions and celebrations that occur around this time, so it's interesting to see how others commemorate the close of another year.  I don't know all of the traditions that you celebrate, but in our house, it's "Merry Christmas!"

I truly believe that all things testify of Christ.  If our eyes are open to see and our hearts are open to feel the spririt, we can see signs everywhere, even more so at Christmastime.  We celebrate His humble birth, but also His selfless and giving life, the willin sacrifice of His death, and that He lives again, eternaly.  In all things, He gave us a pathway to follow.

When Jesus walked on the earth, He taught in parables, stories that teach great truth using comparisons or symbols.  There are probably many reasons why He did this--perhaps to keep some truth hidden from those not ready to hear it, to make difficult things more easy to understand, or to encourage those who are seeking to study the matter even more.  Howard W. Hunter said: “{parables} are so simple a child can understand, yet profound enough for the sage and philosopher.  In Jesus' own words, He described his use of parables:

Matthew 13: 13-15:  Therefore speak I to them in parables: because they seeing see not; and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand.  And in them is fulfilled the prophecy of Esaias, which saith, By hearing ye shall hear, and shall not understand; and seeing ye shall see, and shall not perceive:  For this people’s heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed; lest at any time they should see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and should understand with their heart, and should be converted, and I should heal them.

Sometimes people see things without seeing them and hear without truly hearing.  When are hearts are hardened, we don't allow ourselves to grasp the true meaning that all things testify of Christ.   

When I think of parables, some of the quickest to come to mind are: the Parable of the Talents, the Parable of the Ten Virgins, The Good Samaritan, and the The Prodigal Son.  On the surface, each one of these parables, along with the many others Jesus spoke, can be taken as just an entertaining story.  But, there is more to be interpreted from each.   In applying and understanding parables, Merlin R. Lybbert said, “The beauty of the parables of the Lord is that they have many applications, and thus their teaching value is unending."  As we continue to read and study the stories, we understand them more fully, come to recognize the power in their meanings, and are able to share the principles and practice them in our own lives.  

Although the original interpretation of parables lies with the truth and meaning the Lord gave, the application on parables in our lives can change, depending on our circumstances and the time in history.  For example, in this age of electricity, it would be unlikely that women would be standing in the streets, waiting for a wedding with their oil and lamps, but we can apply the original meaning of the parable as we fill the vessels of our souls with good works.  There is more than one way to apply the principles found in each parable.  

In studying parables, one might ask, "are they true?"  Were there really servants who received various amounts of money from their master and returned as either good and faithful or foolish?  Was there an actual wedding that 5 foolish virgins missed because they weren't prepared?  Was "The Good Samaritan" simply a title to conceal the true identity of a real person?  And whose family was it that welcomed The Prodigal Son home?  Did these things really happen, were they based on actual events, or were they just stories used to convey deeper meaning?  If not, how DARE Jesus pass them around as "gospel?"  How could The Master LIE to people?  Really, I doubt anyone would call Jesus a liar for "making up" stories, especially when these stories were used to teach principles and bring people to Christ.  

Without the ability to electronically record every word and instantly publish and project parables to the masses, I'm sure the stories were just a bit different each time they were told.  In fact, I would predict that those in attendance when Jesus originally told the parables went home to tell their friends and families.  Perhaps they added a detail here and there, or forgot one part or another.  In some families, maybe there were 12 virgins.  In others, perhaps one servant received 20 talents.  Maybe the prodigal son became a prodigal daughter, especially in families with only girls.  As the stories were passed down from generation to generation, the details might have changed, the words might have been a bit different, but if the meaning held true, it was still the parable the Savior intended.   

Let me repeat what I've said about parables:  1} A parable can be used as a tool to reach us all--from young children all the way up to those in the wise, older years of life.  2} We can sometimes have dull ears, closed eyes, and hardened hearts and miss precious truths.  3} There is more than one way to apply the principles of parables.  4} Parables may or may not be based on actual events.  5}Parables might have been told a little differently in each family.  

Using this background on parables, I would like to introduce the new label of "parable" for a collection of stories that that has been around for quite some time.  Some tellings of these "parables" are quick and simple, and others could fill entire libraries.  These "parables" can be used to teach about Christ and His love or to celebrate His birth.  They demonstrate selfless giving.  They teach us to make good choices and prepare for the coming of the Lord, and they bring families and friends together.  These stories are basically a combination of all the good things about Jesus Christ.  I would like to call them:  

 The Parables of Christmas

Parables of Christmas are different from The Story of Christmas, which tells of the humble birth of Jesus Christ to a virgin mother in a stable, with angels singing the good tidings of great joy and inviting shepherds to come  see.  This basic story, and the rest of His life and sacrifice are the reasons we celebrate Christmas. 

The Parables of Christmas are stories that use compairsons or symbols to add more to the story.  Sometimes, as in biblical parables, the interpretation and understanding can be concealed.  And, sometimes, the hidden truth in the messages of the parables can become convoluted.   When you start at a silent, holy night with angels singing and the Christ child in a manager and go straight into all the bells and whistles: trees, lights, candy canes, presents, cards, parties, stars, ornaments, red and green, stockings, bells, reindeer, and Santa Claus, does the original meaning get lost?  There are MANY parables of Christmas, a parable for each symbol, many stories that help us understand and remember the true meaning of Christmas, but are there TOO many?   

Some people argue that there is too much commercialism in Christmas today, that stores are preparing for Christmas too early, and that popular culture distracts from the meaning of Christmas.  Perhaps we do have too many symbols of Christmas.  Maybe we just need Luke 2 and that's it.  Even the Bible references some of the Christmas customs we've grown to know as worshipful as "heathen":

 Jeremiah 10:2-4

Thus saith the Lord, Learn not the way of the heathen, and be not dismayed at the signs of heaven; for the heathen are dismayed at them.  For the customs of the people are vain: for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the axe. They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not.  

Could it be that everyone with a Christmas tree decked in silver and gold is a heathen?  Christians would probably be offended and saddened to think about a major symbol of Christmas in that way.  I know Christmas trees are beautiful and meaningful in our home, a special symbol of Christmas and a collection of family memories from many years of Christmas celebrations.  Surely, that isn't heathen?  

Customs of "the people" can be in vain, but they can also be used to point to Christ.  Even the customs that are purely based on the bible have been altered a bit for the holiday.  Nativity scenes usually include the wise men, who came bearing gifts.  But this didn't actually occur until Jesus was older than a baby in a manger.  How COULD we stray from the EXACT story????  Perhaps, grouping the angels, the shepherds, the star in the East, and the wise men along with Joseph, Mary, and the Baby in the Manger helps people remember the story.  Perhaps it gives even children a picture on which to build their faith.  Perhaps it's become part of the parables.  

Customs of "the people" can be in vain.  Just look at the history behind Christmas:

   

A winter holiday was already being celebrated long before Jesus Christ was born, and all of the celebrations we now think of as "Christian" are actually a collection of practices from many cultures.  There is much evidence that would suggest that December 25 is not even the real date of Christs' birth, but was chosen because it was already a time of celebration of rebirth and of worshiping Roman gods.  Many of the symbols of Christmas--evergreen trees, wreaths, holly berries, mistletoe--actually evolved from pagan rituals.  Once Christianity began to become the majority religion, the church blended the pagan rituals, customs, and symbols of the people with the teachings of Jesus.  So, if all of this celebrating was already being done before there was even a "Christmas," should we even celebrate at all?  What makes one type of Christmas celebrating pagan or vain and another holy and pure?  Perhaps that's not for us to judge, but to decide for ourselves and our families what is simply vain celebration and what is done to bring meaning and purpose to our homes.    

That blending of secular and spiritual continues to effect the celebration of Christmas today.  But, if our eyes are open to see and our ears are open to hear, The Parables of Christmas, symbols and stories, can help us understand and remember the basic Story of Christmas, the life/birth/death of Jesus Christ.  Remember, with enough thought, all things testify of Christ. 

Here are just a few of the Parables of Christmas that can help us keep Christ in our Christmas celebrations.  

The Parable of the Christmas Tree: an evergreen tree is an ancient symbol of eternal life, and points to heaven.  

The Parable of The Lights: lights can remind of that Jesus is the Light of the World and that we should let our light so shine before our fellowmen.  

The Parable of Candy Canes:  the J is for Jesus, and they remind us of the shepherds who were the first to hear the news of His birth.  There is even a story about how a candy maker wanted to make a candy that reminded people of Jesus--white for His purity and red for His blood.  

The Parable of Red and Green: The colors can remind us of the blood of Christ and of eternal life.

The Parable of Bells:  bells ring out to announce the glad tidings of His birth.  

The Parable of the Gifts: Giving and receiving gifts is done in remembrance of all the gifts we have been given by our Savior.  We give to others to honor Him. 

The Parable of the Star: Stars remind us of the sign of Christ's birth and of the heavens.  

So far, these symbols of Christmas all seem quite Holy {although many of them truly were adopted from pagan rituals.}  Now comes some controversy.  Brace yourself:

The Parable of Santa Claus, The Parable of the Elves {even *gasp* The Elf on the Shelf!}, The parable of The Reindeer, and The Parable of the North Pole. 

I propose that telling the story of Santa Claus can be a parable that teaches of Christ.  One of my very favorite Christmas books, I Believe in Santa Claus, by Diane G. Adamson suggests that Santa Claus is very much like Jesus Christ--from her book:

Santa wears red
Christ wears red (Isaiah 63:2)
Santa has white hair
Christ has white hair (Revelations 1:14)
Santa comes in the night
Christ came in the night (1 Thessalonians 5:2)
Santa loves little children
Christ loves little children (Matthew 19:14)
Santa wants us to be good
Christ knows we are good (1 Timothy 2:3-4)
Santa brings us gifts
Christ brings us gifts (James 1:17)

My favorite part of the book pretty much sums up most of my Parables of Christmas, and she tells this part of the parable so much better than I could.  She says that "Santa is a symbol of Christmas.  Symbols of Christmas can remind us of the true meaning of Christmas.  The symbols of Christmas remind me of Christ.  So I believe in Santa Claus."  {In my opinion, you could pretty much insert: "So, I believe in _______ whatever symbol of Christmas there.}

If we are keeping with Santa Claus as a parallel for Christ, it makes sense that this "magic" of Christmas is taught in a parable.  Although little children are often the most pure and innocent, they don't always easily grasp the faith and understanding to "know" Jesus.  They can't see or touch him.  But, they can learn about a loving man {Santa} who expects them to be good and brings them gifts {blessings} for doing so.  They can't quite grasp heaven and how far away it is, but they can understand it a little better as related to The Parable of the North Pole.  They can dream and hope, as in stories like The Polar Express of when they can return to that wonderful, beautiful, "magical" place, where that loving man lives.  {That sounds a little like a piece of heaven to me.}  Maybe learning about how Santa is able to reach all the children of the earth in one night can help them understand how a loving Heavenly Father is able to know all of His children, all over the world, at once, that he can enter our hearts and our homes and fill them with blessings.  I seem to remember something in The Parable of the Reindeer about Rudolph, one who was different and cast out from his peers but ended up having a special mission that saved them all.  That story sounds somewhat familiar, almost as if it could be used as a way to teach about Jesus.  Perhaps many parts of the Parable of Santa Claus can turn into ways to point to Christ and to His teachings of love, obedience, and sacrifce.    

When Jesus was on the earth, he called disciples to help him.  Even though God is all-knowing and all-powerful, he still calls servants to help with His work on the earth and return and report.  Maybe, just maybe, The Parable of The Elf on the Shelf is a little like that?  There is SO much controversy about this lately!  If you truly read the story and understand its simple meaning, you'll see that the elves are just Santa's helpers that are sent to each home to help him in his work.  They return each night to the North Pole to report, then head back to their assigned homes, waiting to be found.  There were messengers sent before Jesus many times to prepare the way and to give people signs of his coming, and remind them that the time was soon at hand. Maybe, if our eyes are open to see, something the could be turned into a vain custom could actually be yet another parable of Christmas.  I'll admit that this tradition has gotten a little out of control, especially from crazy, Pinterest one-uppers, and the case could be made {in my opinion} that something like this could be taken a bit of a heathen custom.  But, can't the same argument be made for many of The Parables of Christmas?  If it is something that helps us remember the Spirit of Christmas, it can bring joy and help to celebrate the love and anticipation of the season.       

Remember what I said about parables from earlier?  :  1} A parable can be used as a tool to reach us all--from young children all the way up to those in the wise, older years of life.  2} We can sometimes have dull ears, closed eyes, and hardened hearts and miss precious truths.  3} There is more than one way to apply the principles of parables.  4} Parables may or may not be based on actual events.  5}Parables might have been told a little differently in each family.

Whatever Parables of Christmas are part of your homes' {or others'} traditions, try to remember that they can all testify of Christ.  Even the secular stories can become a tool to reach people of all ages.  Hardened hearts aren't open to finding the meaning of The Parables of Christmas, even though there is more than one way to apply them.  There are countless ways to commemorate and celebrate the birth of Christ.  As long as the focus is our Savior, we need to not let how one family might do things or tell the stories a little differently affect the spirit in our homes.  And, certainly, just as with biblican parables, The Parables of Christmas aren't LIES.  They are symbols for comparison.               

So, whether in your house it's St. Nicholas, Sinter Klaas, Kris Kringle, or Santa; whether your tree has an angel or a star; whether or not you send out cards or go ice skating; make hot chocolate or have parties; go caroling or go to church; fill stockings or put up a tree; visit Santa or make cookies, go look at Christmas lights; have an Elf on the Shelf or not; keep it all simple/homemade or go all out; or only bring out the nativity, the love of Christ will be there, just the same.  Christmas will come, whether in busy, event-filled countdowns or quiet reflections.  The holiday will happen if we've been preparing for months or procrastinate the time of your shopping.  As Dr. Seuss put it in How the Grinch Stole Christmas, 

"{Christmas }came without ribbons! It came without tags!
It came without packages, boxes, or bags!"

He puzzled and puzzed till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.

Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.
Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!"

Perhaps, like the Grinch, who tried to steal Christmas from the Whos, we might feel tempted to try to take away all "the things" and simplify our Parables of Christmas.  But, is it possible that we can celebrate and incorporate all these parables AND remember the true meaning?  Everyone has to decide how to celebrate and which of The Parables of Christmas they will tell, just as we all have to decide how to apply the principles of The Parables every day.  The magic happens when The Parables begin to mean "a little bit more," stories that help teach our children {and us} about the love of Christ, and that believing brings happiness and blessings.  Any story that can do that is a story worth telling.    

 

Tuesdays with Naqvi--Herceptin #31

Remember last year when the Mayans predicted the world would end?  I forgot about that, too, especially since 2013 has been full of so much........excitement?!  I actually forgot many things about this time of year last year, but while trying to get ideas on how I decorated the house for Christmas 2012, I was catching up on some blog posts from our family blog from "the end of the world 2012."  I came across quite the gem. I do remember many of these events, but had forgotten they all happened in the space of only 2 days. 

It's the Most *Wonderful* Time of the Year {AKA: Worse.Apocalypse.Ever}

My children were NOT my favorite people on the worse last day ever.  Here's a little rundown on their attempts at putting Mom in the nuthouse.  They got an early start on the apocalypse celebration, as our *fun* started on Thursday, AKA "End of the World Eve" :

1} A diaper gets put a little too close to my hair straightener and melts all over it.  The straightener ends up in the trash.  This one is MY fault, but it was the start of our very long path to the end of the world fun.

2} Kyle pees on his sheets.  Yes, the ones I'd JUST changed the day before.

3} We rush out the door to get Kyle to school and then go to the doctor with 2 sick boys = FUN for all in the BUSY sick children/school holiday/last day before holiday closing rush.

4} Evan has a double ear infection and is, shall we say, more tired and irritable than normal.  Of course our medicine isn't ready at Walgreens, even 37 minutes after leaving the doctor's office.  How long does it take to slap a label on a bottle and shake up some amoxicillin?  It won't be ready for another 2 hours?  Great.  

 5} We "get" to "help" out at Kyle's Christmas party at school.  It was more of me trying to keep things together.  And water spills on my camera.  

6} Ryan says he has to go poop before naptime, but tries and doesn't.  When Kyle goes to wake him up from naptime....LATE in the day...he runs out screaming, "GROSS!  POOP!  There's poop EVERYWHERE!" 
{Mom runs upstairs and LOSES it.}
There really is poop everywhere: all over Ryan: down his legs, on his arms, under his fingernails.  He pooped in his pants, removed them, got poop all over him/the floor--caked in in three major spots, his dresser, his sheets--Yes, the ones I just changed the day before--the dust ruffle, a pillow that was still waiting a fresh pillowcase, the walls, and the door.  I was NOT happy.  I'm sure some day I'll think back on this and laugh, but today is NOT that day.  It was beyond disgusting, and I think it was for something very much like this that the phrase, "$h*t hit the fan" was invented.   Good news:  I didn't have to make dinner and Stephen went to pick it up!  

7} The next morning, the boys seem to be constantly vacillating between playing, fighting, hurting each other, laughing, and crying.  

8} We have time-outs in the first 20 minutes of the morning.

9} I attempt a trip to Target with all 3 boys--my *favorite*--to replace the busted straightener and to buy more cleaning supplies because Ryan's room still smells like poop and end up with a headache and reach frustration level from just trying to keep it together.  {And, of course, we run into half our neighborhood, people from church, one of Kyle's teachers, and a friend from school, and I'm in NO mood to socialize.}

10} I spend the whole day disinfecting the house, re-cleaning bathrooms from the poop incident, continuing to wash everything from Ryan's room, and attempting to clean and clear the room from remnants of excrement.

11} As I finish vacuuming up the carpet freshener, Evan comes up and pushes the vacuum over.  It falls directly onto the collection of pictures that I still need to hang in the upstairs hallway, smashing 2 frames into a million pieces.  I then get to clean up glass shards from the carpet and dispose of 2 {not cheap} 11 X 14 frames.

12} I come downstairs after cleaning up this mess to discover Ryan covered in chocolate.  He took the end of the world talk a little too seriously and decided to climb up on the counter, grab his chocolate advent calendar, open all the remaining days, and snack down on the chocolate.  Kyle was not pleased and chastised Ryan for me.  "PO!  You are NOT supposed to do that!  What have you done?  You're ONLY supposed to eat ONE chocolate a day!  Now what are you going to do until Christmas?!"  

13} The boys play outside while I make dinner.  We eat quickly and *amazingly* it was bath time!  Everyone was clean and I got Evan out, dressed, and dosed with his medicine.  I run upstairs to get PJs for PO.  When I go back into the bathroom, I find that Evan had gone in there, cleaned out the bottom drawer, and thrown the contents INTO THE BATH WATER.  Did I mention that my BRAND NEW STRAIGHTENER was in the bottom drawer?!?  Game, set, and match, boys.  You broke me. 

Kyle's commentary:  "Mom, maybe you shouldn't have had 3 babies.  Evan is very bad.  You maybe just should've had me and Ryan.  Then it wouldn't be so hard." 

Good  news:  Not long after that, it was bedtime, and I escaped to a fun Christmas party.  And, I got to come home and sleep in my nice, warm bed, knowing that Stephen was home the next day--my reinforcement would be there all day long.  I would not have to fight the day-after the end of the world battle alone.         

After that awful few days, we had a wonderful Christmas, full of joy, memories, gladness, and fun.  Then, there was another round of sad posts when the boys all got sick again, passing ear infections back and forth, diarrhea and vomiting, and all-around yuckiness. It's almost funny looking back now how hard life seemed when dealing with the everyday disasters and the annoying runny noses or germy messes. 

One week after complaining about having sick boys and being sick of it, there came the blog post explaining that I was diagnosed with cancer. 

Some days I still have a hard time believing this has all really happened. I'd like to say that in the magnitude of cancer, the "little" things like poop on the carpet, having to break up fights, spills at the dinner table, new Christmas ornaments broken 5 seconds after being unwrapped, toddler tantrums, ripped up children's books, pee on the couch, and a million other events that seem to add up in a day of motherhood {could all of these examples possibly be drawn from our real life lately?} don't make me want to BLOW UP, but I guess I still have a lot to learn.  Even in my changed perspective from being on the road of cancer survival, the "little" things still pile up. 

Yesterday started out much like that worse apocalypse ever day. But, we kept it together, turned our frowns upside down, and that pile of all those bad "little" things became a mountain of happy "little" things. I learned that forcing happy things to happen can often lead to frustration, but allowing yourself time to slow down and live in the moments, to breath them in......that is when the magic happens.  

I'm still working on perspective. I'm still working on patience. I'm still working on understanding how all of the hard "little" things can help me appreciate more of the good ones. I'm still working on so much more.  But, I'm alive and able to still be working, and It is often those "little" things that remind me. 

Breast Cancer Portraits--Scars and Healing

My most recent portrait session was a difficult one.  I wanted to document some of the scars and changes in my body, post mastectomy/reconstruction.  I was also dealing with a range of emotions about the whole thing.  My photographer, Amber, usually asks for words to guide her vision for the session.  My words this time were: scarred, loss, pain, healing. 


One of the most difficult parts of this session was trying to capture this part in the journey.  The scars and loss are more than just skin deep.  It's also been quite eye-opening to actually experience just how much goes into the surgery.

When I came home from the hospital in August, I looked a little something like this:

I was cut from hip to hip, stitched back together, had both breasts completely removed of their former tissue.  The original breast skin was used to house tissue harvested from my abdomen, closed by the circular "flaps," skin grafts from my abdomen, which replaced the areas where my nipples were removed.  A new belly button was completely constructed, and I had tubes and drains coming out of {what seemed like} everywhere.  It was a scary looking {and feeling} time.  I was only somewhat prepared for the magnitude of it all.  I was swollen, unable to move or use most of my body how I wanted, feeling down about the intensity of the changes, and in a good amount of pain.  

2 weeks after surgery, I'd had the stitches removed, and all the drains were ready to come out.  I was feeling great about the progress.  Sometimes when I start feeling too well, I overdo things a bit.  In one, small twisting move to reach for something on a side table, something that was so "normal" before all of this, I popped open my abdominal scar in three spots.  I felt like it looked terrible--and the sound of the bust alone made my stomach spin a bit--but my doctor assured me that things like this are fairly common, and I didn't have to come in.  I just needed to give myself more time to heal. 

 A month after surgery, things were improving.  The scars were healing, the swelling was going down, and the pain was vastly decreasing. 

 People are often curious about how the reconstruction works.  In the first stages, the flap of skin that holds in the new tissue is skin borrowed from another part of the body.  This is how it was healing up at my 6-week appointment.  I found it somewhat meaningful that the skin used for the flaps had stretch marks I'd acquired from pregnancy.  In some, small way it reminded me of my 3 precious babies, some of the most important reasons I was going through all of this.     

Before I went through the second stage of the reconstruction, which has completely changed the scars, both in how they look and how I feel about them, I wanted to document the huge circles and scar tissue, but how amazingly the body can heal in such a short time.

Two months after surgery:

 
After posing and recording the scars, talking about the process and the healing, I started to feel like I was seeing some of my strength return.  Loss and scars are real.  The healing process is both physical and emotional, but seeing my strength come through the back of the camera was empowering. 

We brainstormed and wanted to capture that strength.  Through our combined efforts, we envisioned a portrait of a survivor pulling herself out of the hole of sadness and depression, and what better way to pull herself up than with the symbolical pink ribbon? 

It was a tough session, but exactly what I needed.  I think this session was a turning point in my healing, especially in the emotional side of things.  It's amazing how something as simple as pictures can help you start to see the light and the strength that can come from the love of others and from within. 

Wednesday with Naqvi--Herceptin #30

I am often asked something along the lines of, "How are you doing?"  Often, my response is something like, "I'm doing okay.  We could be better; we could be worse."  Sometimes, I even answer, "I'm doing well, all things considered."  Don't get me wrong.  There is a long list of difficulties I could explain each time someone asks me that "how ya doing?" question.  But, I don't want to complain or focus on what's wrong in the world.  I would much rather focus on the good. I'm not trying be to fake or cover up how hard 2013 has been for me and my family, but cultivating gratitude, especially in difficult times, helps us grow happiness.  "Sucking it up," as Stephen would say, "Not shrinking" in our trials, shifts our focus and helps shed light on all for which we can truly give thanks.  

Did you know It is actually a commandment to show gratitude?

Come before his presence with thanksgiving: Ps 95: 1-2

• Be thankful unto him, and bless his name:Ps 100: 1-5
• Cease not to give thanks: Eph. 1:15-16 
• Be ye thankful: Col 3:15 
• In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.: 1 Thes 5:18
• O how you ought to thank your heavenly King: Mosiah 2:19-21 
• Live in thanksgiving daily:Alma 34:38
• When thou risest in the morning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God:Alma 37:37
• Ye should do all things with prayer and thanksgiving:D&C 46:7
• Ye must give thanks unto God:D&C 46:32
• Giving thanks is a commandment, a virtue, a spiritual gift, and yet, it often does not come naturally.  It must be cultivated and practiced.  Gratitude can be learned and strengthened by simply expressing it, focusing on the good over the bad, by serving others, and showing our love.  All good things come from God, so our gratitude should being with him.  Russel M. Nelson said, "Our degree of gratitude is a measure of our love for Him."  How well we keep the commandment of thanksgiving measures our love for our Savior.  {Isn't it interesting how much of the world these days skips straight from Halloween into Christmas, with little thought on Thanksgiving, and that little thought often focuses on food and shopping and AWAY from Him from whom all blessing flow?}

Don't get me wrong.  Gratitude can be given for the smallest tender mercies, for parents, for children, for our jobs, our homes, our clothes, food, cars to drive, friends, weather, electricity, and so on, but all that good comes from God, so it's fitting that it begin there.  It's also fitting that we focus on Thanksgiving immediately before focusing on the celebration of His birth.  We give thanks for our blessings, and then share those blessings--in the form of gifts--with others.  

Thomas S. Monson, gave a talk called, "An Attitude of Gratitude."   He said, "A grateful heart comes through expressing gratitude to our Heavenly Father for His blessings and to those around us for all that they bring into our lives."  This is the spirit of Thanksgiving!  President Monson continues,  "This {gratitude} requires conscious effort—at least until we have truly learned and cultivated an attitude of gratitude. Often we feel grateful and intend to express our thanks but forget to do so or just don’t get around to it. Someone has said that 'feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.'"  The season of Thanksgiving flows so perfectly into the joy of Christmas.  We reflect upon our blessings, wrap up that "thankfulness," and give it out.   And the amazing thing is that the blessings often pour back to us.  "Sincerely giving thanks not only helps us recognize our blessings, but it also unlocks the doors of heaven and helps us feel God’s love." {Monson}

What about when we have trials and developing that attitude of gratitude is difficult?  Perhaps we've lost a loved one, or a job, or a home, or don't have enough food to feed our families.  Perhaps it's too difficult to heat our homes, our cars have broken down, we don't have our health, we're out of touch with friends or family members, or we are just feeling the heavy burden life sometimes places on our shoulders.  The hard times make the virtue of gratitude that much more challenging as well as necessary.  There is always, always, always something to be grateful for.  There is always a silver lining, if we can just train our eyes and hearts to search for it.        

"When we encounter challenges and problems in our lives, it is often difficult for us to focus on our blessings. However, if we reach deep enough and look hard enough, we will be able to feel and recognize just how much we have been given."  {Monson}

Sometimes we have to literally pull ourselves out of those dark places, those sad and depressing moments, or rely on being lifted up by others.  It can be done.  I am here to tell you that it can be done.  Somewhere within each of us lies that strength to turn to the light, to reach for the hands that are yearning to help, or to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps {or pink ribbons, as the case may be} and keep on going.  

 Even while still in the midst of a marathon of a trial, or just a sad moment in a day, we can find much for which to be grateful.  We can smile and express our thanksgiving to others.  We can focus on the positive and all that is good in the world.  We can live in a way that encourages others to be more positive about the hard things with which they are silently--or opening--living.   “We can lift ourselves, and others as well, when we refuse to remain in the realm of negative thought and cultivate within our hearts an attitude of gratitude.  If ingratitude be numbered among the serious sins, then gratitude takes its place among the noblest of virtues." {Monson}

Everyone is dealing with something that is hard.  At any given moment, each of us could be sucked into complaining about our lot in life, becoming upset at the unfairness of it all, or succumbing to that dark place where sadness overwhelms and crushes hope, faith, light, and gratitude.  Let us not give up on the good.  Let us see the hard parts for what they are and let them help us to become even more thankful for our many blessings. President Monson gave us a 3-step process to cultivating this attitude of gratitude.  First, express it to Heavenly Father and others.  Then, "enact" it.  I like to think of this as performing acts of gratitude.  Finally, we get to the point where we always live with a spirit of thanksgiving.  I love how he explains it.  "To express gratitude is gracious and honorable, to enact gratitude is generous and noble, but to live with gratitude ever in our hearts is to touch heaven."

Let heaven touch your heart in the spirit of thanksgiving, and share that spirit with others.  

Tuesdays with Dr. B

After a long morning of chemo, I still had to go downtown to have my post-op appointment with Dr. Boutros.  

It was a busy day at the office, and there ended up being a little breast cancer pow-wow.  5 patients of Dr. Naqvi and Dr. Pollack, who knew each other from the breast cancer support group, were all discussing stories, diagnoses, and surgery options.  I got in on the conversation, too.  It was nice to see different stages of the process and to hear different experiences.  

The nurses and Dr. B were both very happy with my shape and progress.  However, I was still very swollen, a little warm, and pink.  My drains were still not ready to come out, and there was a concern of developing an infection.  

They sent me off with a new prescription for an antibiotic and another appointment for next Tuesday.  I have these tentacles in for another week.  :(

When I got home, Walgreens called to inform me that the new prescription had penicillin in it.  I'm allergic, and it was too late to call the office for a change.  Really?? ARGGGG! 

I also met with someone about the financial side of things.  Of course, I broke down and cried over the stress of all of it.  Along with my regular high deductible health insurance, there is an additional $12,000 deductible for out-of-network services, which this reconstrucion is.  My major concerns were: Dr. B's services are not going to be completed in this calendar year, so am I going to wrack up ANOTHER 12 grand to finish these nipples that were SUPPOSED to be done last Friday?  And, how much are they expecting me to pay a month because I was asked to set up a payment plan.  Some people in that office might have an extra $1,000 a month to apply to medical services, but we do not.  Hopefully, they are going to work with us.  It still doesn't mean they can waive it all, but we will see what can be done and for now, we can pay whatever we can pay, as long as we are playing something every month.  I feel much better having spoken face-to-face about the concerns and stresses of the financial side, so I can get on with the healing.  

If someone could just fill me in on what I'm supposed to learn from all of this, I'd REALLY appreciate it!!!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

Tuesdays with Naqvi--Herceptin #29

The second surgery is done!  

I was underprepared for the amount of pain and discomfort associated with said surgery, but am starting to feel a little better.  

My original start time was 10:00 a.m., but they called me the evening before to say there was a change in schedule, and I'd now have surgery at 7:30.  They wanted me there at 5:30!  We got there are 6:15.  

There wasn't much in the way of paperwork, since I'd just been there in August, and there were no changes.  They called me back quickly to get my vitals.  There was a new nurse--at least it seemed she was new to the hospital--because she was having a difficult time with the computer charting.  Three other nurses also came in to help.  We were pushing the start time, and my IV still wasn't in.  Dr. B came to meet with me, make his marks on me, and ask about if I understood all the procedures.  He could tell something was a little off, and asked what was wrong.  I told him, "this is all really hard.  It's been a tough year, there's a lot to deal with, the financial stress of it all is getting to me."   I tried to keep it together, but the tears started a little.  He made everyone leave and asked if he could pray with me.  That was a comforting thing, knowing the faith of my surgeon and his understanding of the difficult times in life.  He prayed about helping me through the hard times and understanding that the hard times often make us stronger.  

Anesthesia came in and asked their usual questions.  He said I made it easy for him, since I'm pretty healthy--answered no to all the questions that raise red flags.  Then, he went off on this tangent about how we needed to put the IV in the right arm because of having removed lymph nodes from my left side.  They didn't have to remove lymph nodes, just checked them, and they were negative.  "Are you sure?," he asked.  There will be scars in your arm pits.  Well, I don't have those.  "Oh, well, let's do the IV in the right side, anyway."  I told him I'm a hard stick, that IVs ALWAYS go badly for me, and I hate them.  

So, of course, they let the new nurse stick me.  Good call.  And, we were really running close to start time.  The charge nurse came by to see if we were ready to roll back.  "She doesn't even have her IV in?????"  Way to put even more pressure on it.  

I hadn't seen Stephen yet, either, so they sent him back, even though they don't like people back there while the IV is going in.  Probably because they don't want people seeing them screw up.  

She dug around in my right arm and blew it.  I was crying.  Stephen stood by me and held me hand.  The nurse told him to sit down.  He held my hand.  She tried a smaller needle in my right forearm, and was like, "I got it!"  The anesthesiolgist came in and said, "No, you didn't.  A 22 in that spot should be flowing much better."  Stephen was biting his tongue, thinking the same thing.  The anesthesiologist tried once in my left hand and missed.  FINALLY, he pulled out the lidocaine, and got it in my left arm.  Really, people!!!!  I WARNED YOU!!!!  I was crying like a baby, in pain, and not given enough versed to help with that.  

They wheeled me back to the OR.  I remembered much more about moving over to the bed and getting preped for surgery than I did for the last one. 

And, then I was awake in recovery.  My nurse there was fantastic.  I was in a LOT of pain, so she gave me THREE blasts of meds.  I had to pee like crazy, but discovered I have a difficult time going horizontally.  The bed pan wasn't cutting it.  I hurried up and downed some apple juice to prove I was ready to roll and made it to a toilet.  Stephen got to come back and help me get dressed.  He said Dr. B came out to tell him everything went well.  "I'm not going to lie to you--she's going to be in a lot of pain.  I moved a lot around and did some deep sutures to the chest cavity."  He also didn't do my nipples yet because he wants to wait until the swelling goes down to find the correct positioning.  He did remove the cartilage from my left ear and tucked it under my skin.  

Stephen pulled the car up, and we were off.  I needed some water and was a little hungry.  We met Grandma, Grandpa, and Ryan for lunch, since they were downtown.  I ate a few crackers and some soup and then vomited all over the tray and myself.  I felt better, and had an ice cream cone.  Then, it was time to go home and rest. 

Right before taking my meds, I could feel more nausea coming on.  I threw up the ice cream cone.  I got the medicine in me and slept for several hours.  I was finally able to eat a little soup later that night.

The last few days have been spent with lots of rest, pain meds, trying to walk around a little, and more rest.  Now, I'm back to another round of chemo and on to see Dr. B later today.  Hopefully, he'll take out these tentacles {drains} so I can start feeling more human again and can actually wear normal clothes.      

I'm still not sure how I feel about all of this. It's hard when you don't feel like you have much of a choice in the matter.  Whenever I imagined having breast augmentation surgery, I imagined discussing my choices of size and positioning and playing a role in how I would look.  With breast cancer making most of the choices for me, I almost feel like I'm being told, "you'll get what you get, and don't throw a fit."  That's difficult when you're talking about your body and the image of that body and how that relates to emotions.  I'm not unhappy with the results so far.....just not sure how to feel.  I know the process is not done, so I'll just have to have faith that things will all turn okay out in the end.

At least another big step in the process is complete!    Now to sleep.  Please forgive me if this post doesn't make sense.  I wrote it while on pain meds.  Happy Tuesday!