A few days ago, I was mostly dead. As you know, "there's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Mostly dead is slightly alive." {Don't you just love when movie quotes apply to real life?} At times in the last few days, I've thought that letting go of that slightly alive part would be easier, but I guess I still have things to accomplish on this earth because I'm still kicking.
I was so weak, sick, in pain, and practically helpless that I had to ask someone to drive me down the hospital to have my blood taken. I've had people watch my boys, cook meals, and even help me walk back to bed. I've slept most of the day and not felt rested. I've eaten soup, Pedialyte, and water, only to stay alive, because nothing has sounded appetizing. I just didn't want to add dehydration to my list of symptoms, especially since I've lost 5 pounds in less than a week.
After pretty much feeling like I hit rock bottom on Wednesday, my family rallied--again--and my sister flew down to help bring me back from the mostly dead state I was in.
Luckily, the fever subsided. My strength has started to return. I actually felt like eating dinner--other than soup--tonight. I even got a few positive results back from the blood work I had done on Wednesday. My white blood count (WBC) must be at least 4.0 in order to have chemo. I'm at 2.7, which is up enough for my doctor to be hopeful. My Absolute Neutrophil Count {ANC} was at 1.0, which is the minimum needed for chemo. The original results were WBC at 0.9 and ANC at 0.2. Yes, ZERO point nine and ZERO point two. See what I mean about mostly dead? The WBC came up enough that I get another shot at a higher result by having stat labs taken on Monday. There's still a chance that I can have chemo next week. So, all of you who forgot to pray for me, you still have time to make up for it!
All I can do now is continue to rest, NOT get to go on our planned trip to the beach with the rest of the family, NOT each fresh fruit and vegetables, and pray that my slightly alive part continues to dominate. Let's hope for a miracle in order to get off this roller coaster as soon as possible.
Friday, June 28, 2013
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Tuesdays with Melodee
I can't remember a time I've felt much worse than this.
In the last few days, I've had no energy, cold sweats, fever, chills, aches, fatigue, no appetite, and have basically felt like I have the flu. My highest recorded fever was 101.8. That may not sound that bad, but my normal average is 97.1.
Yesterday, I ended up calling my doctor and found out that my white blood count came back low. I had to get on another antibiotic immediately. I also have to get more blood work done again, two days earlier than planned. If my count doesn't go back up, I'm not going to be able to do my last chemo next week. Although I'd love to NOT have chemo, not having it next week means I still have to have it later. This also just means that all plans for scheduling and care of my boys will be totally thrown off.
One of the hardest parts of this is feeling like I'm failing at being a wife and mother. Thanks to Stephen for taking over for much of the day yesterday and friends helping today and for the rest of the week, we just might make it.
I had so many plans for this week, but I guess it's time to slow down again and focus on feeling better. I really would appreciate prayers that my blood count will return to normal so I can go on with the scheduled plan and get this over with. The sooner I get on with it, the closer I'll be to truly feeling better.
In the last few days, I've had no energy, cold sweats, fever, chills, aches, fatigue, no appetite, and have basically felt like I have the flu. My highest recorded fever was 101.8. That may not sound that bad, but my normal average is 97.1.
Yesterday, I ended up calling my doctor and found out that my white blood count came back low. I had to get on another antibiotic immediately. I also have to get more blood work done again, two days earlier than planned. If my count doesn't go back up, I'm not going to be able to do my last chemo next week. Although I'd love to NOT have chemo, not having it next week means I still have to have it later. This also just means that all plans for scheduling and care of my boys will be totally thrown off.
One of the hardest parts of this is feeling like I'm failing at being a wife and mother. Thanks to Stephen for taking over for much of the day yesterday and friends helping today and for the rest of the week, we just might make it.
I had so many plans for this week, but I guess it's time to slow down again and focus on feeling better. I really would appreciate prayers that my blood count will return to normal so I can go on with the scheduled plan and get this over with. The sooner I get on with it, the closer I'll be to truly feeling better.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Tuesdays with Melodee
One week ago, I really wasn't looking forward to going back. I did it and am now down to only one more of the really hard chemo. I can make it.
The right medicine made SUCH a difference for me this time! I felt pretty well on Tuesday and Wednesday. It helped that the little boys were gone and Kyle was with a friend and then with Grandma and Grandpa. The mornings are usually the hardest, since it takes me a little while to get up and moving without feeling sick, and the whole thing is that much more complicated because I have 3 boys who are ready to go and get breakfast and start the day the minute the sun hits their eyelids. By Wednesday, I was really feeling great about things, hopeful that I was going to be well and clear, thanks to the strong drugs. On Thursday morning I had a reality check, since I had to go get another shot. I keep forgetting how hard those suckers are. I feel achy, nauseous, tired, and generally yucky. But, just as I was feeling sorry for myself, I ran into another patient in the waiting room. She's on the other side of the mountain and changed my perspective a bit. She was actually allergic to this strong immunity booster shot. Instead of being able to have one shot to last her 14 days, she actually had to go 5 out of 7 days each week to receive a less potent shot. I'll take the one whammy and feeling poorly for a few days over the travel time and hassle of the alternative! I tried to eat soup on Thursday and just couldn't. I had no appetite for Friday morning and lunch, either. I was able to eat some chicken soup Friday night and felt much better by Saturday evening. Considering it took me less than a week after chemo to feel back to *normal,* I'll take that as a victory.
This week we are just in full summer mode: splash pad, swimming, more swimming, and getting projects done around the house. I'm going to savor all the summer of the next two weeks and try not to think about having to do this all over again.
The right medicine made SUCH a difference for me this time! I felt pretty well on Tuesday and Wednesday. It helped that the little boys were gone and Kyle was with a friend and then with Grandma and Grandpa. The mornings are usually the hardest, since it takes me a little while to get up and moving without feeling sick, and the whole thing is that much more complicated because I have 3 boys who are ready to go and get breakfast and start the day the minute the sun hits their eyelids. By Wednesday, I was really feeling great about things, hopeful that I was going to be well and clear, thanks to the strong drugs. On Thursday morning I had a reality check, since I had to go get another shot. I keep forgetting how hard those suckers are. I feel achy, nauseous, tired, and generally yucky. But, just as I was feeling sorry for myself, I ran into another patient in the waiting room. She's on the other side of the mountain and changed my perspective a bit. She was actually allergic to this strong immunity booster shot. Instead of being able to have one shot to last her 14 days, she actually had to go 5 out of 7 days each week to receive a less potent shot. I'll take the one whammy and feeling poorly for a few days over the travel time and hassle of the alternative! I tried to eat soup on Thursday and just couldn't. I had no appetite for Friday morning and lunch, either. I was able to eat some chicken soup Friday night and felt much better by Saturday evening. Considering it took me less than a week after chemo to feel back to *normal,* I'll take that as a victory.
This week we are just in full summer mode: splash pad, swimming, more swimming, and getting projects done around the house. I'm going to savor all the summer of the next two weeks and try not to think about having to do this all over again.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Breast Cancer Emotions Project
One of my dear friends, Amber Hagan, had the incredible idea to document the emotions I'm feeling as I travel this cancer road. I've had a few photo sessions already that have ranged from shocked and overwhelmed to comforted, strengthened, positive, and loved. She has documented the first stages of the noticeable changes, right after I shaved my hair. Most of my emotions have stayed on the positive side, and it's been nice to see the cheery, happy, surviving side of this chemo journey.
I'm now in one of the hardest, lowest points of the journey. It's not fun. I feel crummy. And, beyond that, everyone else can see. There's no hiding from the fact that I'm going through chemo. I easily pick up on the stares. While we were waiting at the car wash this week, a woman tried to solicit my business with her permanent make-up company because, I guess it looks like I'll NEVER have eyebrows or eyelashes!?! That combined with the aches, pains, sickness, fatigue, heartburn, and so much still unknown have put me into the next phase of emotions.
I really wanted to document this point in the journey, and having to give a name to the emotions in order for Amber to help express them artistically was quite therapeutic. The words I gave her for my feelings are: "raw, real, exposed, weird, and alien-ish."
We kept it real and raw--no make-up, nothing covering my head, no fake eyebrows or eyelashes. I like that my port, which is a bit alien to me, is exposed. The use of colors makes it feel quite alien, futuristic, almost something out of Star Trek, too.
At this stage of the process, my trials are quite exposed to the world. There's a feeling of vulnerability and humility in that, as well. There's not much to hide.
Facing the emotions head-on has been a challenge and a blessing. I cannot wait to be able to look back through the emotions as a whole, once I'm on the other side.
I'm now in one of the hardest, lowest points of the journey. It's not fun. I feel crummy. And, beyond that, everyone else can see. There's no hiding from the fact that I'm going through chemo. I easily pick up on the stares. While we were waiting at the car wash this week, a woman tried to solicit my business with her permanent make-up company because, I guess it looks like I'll NEVER have eyebrows or eyelashes!?! That combined with the aches, pains, sickness, fatigue, heartburn, and so much still unknown have put me into the next phase of emotions.
I really wanted to document this point in the journey, and having to give a name to the emotions in order for Amber to help express them artistically was quite therapeutic. The words I gave her for my feelings are: "raw, real, exposed, weird, and alien-ish."
We kept it real and raw--no make-up, nothing covering my head, no fake eyebrows or eyelashes. I like that my port, which is a bit alien to me, is exposed. The use of colors makes it feel quite alien, futuristic, almost something out of Star Trek, too.
At this stage of the process, my trials are quite exposed to the world. There's a feeling of vulnerability and humility in that, as well. There's not much to hide.
Facing the emotions head-on has been a challenge and a blessing. I cannot wait to be able to look back through the emotions as a whole, once I'm on the other side.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Tuesdays with Naqvi
I don't think it's a coincidence that Kyle picked out The Little Engine that Could for a bedtime story last night. Out of the hundreds of books from which to choose, he went straight for that one. It wasn't until I started hearing the words I was reading that I realized how similarly I am feeling to that little engine right now. Sadly, she has a much better attitude about her heavy load to carry than I do. I kept thinking about how I didn't want to leave the house today, especially not to go to chemo! I knew I had to, but I REALLY didn't want to. I need to let her words keep repeating in my head: "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can..." I'm nearing the top of the mountain and just have to keep repeating to myself that I'm going to make it. Once I get through the hard, uphill battle, I can coast down into the valley.
The concept of HARD THINGS keeps coming up lately. A few examples from the last week alone include The Little Engine, the quote "I can do hard things," and a little gem from a film called A League of Their Own. When Dottie wants to quit and walk away from baseball, Jimmy Dugan catches her and gives her a little pep talk/chastisement about how wrong she is. She tries to use the excuse, It just got too hard." Jimmy responds, "It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard...is what makes it great." There are a million "hard things" that we are asked or have to do in life, and what is hard for one may not be hard for another. In fact what may be hard for a certain individual at one point in his/her life can sometimes become easy after time, practice, and a change of attitude. "The hard" itself isn't always great, but the feeling of accomplishing "the hard" can be even more rewarding.
Chemo is hard. It's beyond hard. I hate feeling sick, tired, and all the other negatives that come in the whole package. I don't know if I will ever be able to say that the "hard" of chemo makes it great, but I can see in small glimpses that when this is all over, I'll be able to look back and see everything I was able to go through and come out successfully; That will be great! A big part of the joy in the journey is in the way we choose to approach the hard parts.
We are given agency to choose our actions and our reactions, but not our trials or consequences. We are able to choose whom we will serve--whether it be good or evil--and even when it may seem harder to choose to serve The Lord, oh how much greater that "hard" is. {Joshua 24:15} The difficult part of choosing the right is always trumped by the blessings. We are told up front that this path is the more difficult and challenging one in Matthew 7:14: "Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it." Just because His way is strait and narrow doesn't mean that we should give up. The only way to grow, to become strengthened, and to be more perfect is through the "hard." We all have a long way to go to reach perfect, so we are pretty much guaranteed that there's even more hard things to come across. I love this quote:
“God set His standards this high so that we won't make the mistake of aiming low. He made them unreachable so that we would never have the excuse to stop growing.”
― Alex Harris
Every time I see a Lowe's commercial with their catch phrase, "Never Stop Improving," I find that to be a great motto for life. There is never a time when we are done working, growing, serving, perfecting, learning...improving. Much of that takes time and hard work, but it's great when we make it over a hill or mountain and get a glimpse at the peace and perfection we're ultimately choosing to seek. We can't receive a fullness of life's blessings if we are not striving for perfection and following the strait and narrow path, even though it's hard. As C.S. Lewis said,
"It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad." Beautiful, right? Just when we might think things are decent and fine, we go through something difficult. The cracking out of that shell is hard. It's work. It's uncomfortable and might hurt a bit. But, then we're out, and have so many more places to see and explore, are not held back by that tight shell, able to move so much easier, and have the ability to accomplish so much more than before, and be more prepared for more of life's challenges and blessings. We should never stop trying, never stop improving. The difficult times also open up new blessings, strengths, and opportunities, especially when we are on The Lord's side. He has promised that even though "thou hast suffered afflictions and much sorrow...thou knowest the greatness of God; and he shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain." {2 Ne 2:1-2} This is yet another way of reminding us that "the hard" will be great in the end, so keep on moving forward on that strait and narrow path!
I'm convinced that there are many, MANY things I needed to learn from enduring this trial. One of them is that I need to not be so uptight. There is a balance between structure and chaos, and I needed to find a better balance by calming WAY the hell down about certain things. I would let little things like a lost toy drive me crazy for days. I'm still not perfect in wanting to have control and order, but I've learned to let go of some of the things that don't matter in the long run. Having cancer definitely forces a person to refocus energy on what is truly important! Another hard thing to learn is to go ahead and try, to not give up just because something is hard or it's not particularly something I think I'll be good at. Being a bit of a perfectionist has made me somewhat timid in trying new things at which I think I might fail. I *can* sing and used to be able to play the piano, but got to a certain age when it wasn't fun and I never wanted to sing or play in front of anyone--even family. It's kind of hard being in the shadow of other family members who are NATURALLY and brilliantly musically inclined. Since I knew I'd never be the best, I kind of just let that fall off the radar of my life. I regret burying that talent in the sand because I've lost so much of it. I gave up and lost out on blessings because of it. With cancer, giving up is not an option. I'm not the best at this, but I have to do it. I have to keep going. There are too many people who need me, even in my imperfect state, who just want me to be well and happy. It doesn't matter that I'm not the best, the prettiest, or the most energetic because I'll cross that finish line with the people who love me unconditionally there to greet me, and no one else matters. I need to be more like that with taking chances in the future. Just because I don't cross the finish line in first place, I need to have experiences and challenges that push me and make me work for something more without giving up when it gets a bit difficult. I could learn a thing or two from Thomas Edison: "Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time." And just like "the hard" parts of life will be different for each person, what it takes to feel "the great" of success will vary. The trick is to take notice of both, while not comparing your "hard" or your "great" to anyone else's.
Already I have seen some calm moments in the journey, some breaks along the path, when simply having the ability to do everyday tasks--laundry, grocery shopping, taking all 3 boys to run errands--is more enjoyable because I CAN do them!
It really is true about how we take things for granted until we no longer have the ability to do them or you never know what you have until it's gone. At the beginning of all of this, I didn't know how I was going to get through chemo, especially with the boys. I kept stressing about how it was all going to work out. I had to learn to not worry about things I couldn't control at every moment and just have faith that things would work out. Now, I'm mostly done with the 2nd to last of my chemo doses, and somehow, it's all worked out! It has definitely not always gone smoothly--or even according to play--but we've been very blessed! It's becoming easier to see how--on a small scale--I CAN do hard things.
Some people seem to "have it all." Believe me, no one does. At any moment, every person is dealing with both "hards" and "greats." We all have moments when repeating the phrases "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can." or "Gonna make it. Gonna make it. Gonna.make.it.Gonna.make.it. Gonna.make.it...." {another favorite movie quote} are the only ways to make it one more second. But somehow, we make it one second, then another, and another, and before long, all that stands between you and 6 months of chemo is one more dose! Just like The Little Engine that could, we can! We can carry heavy burdens to new heights, over the tall mountains, in order to bless the lives of others. We can feel the great joy that comes from accomplishing something hard. We can make it one step in front of the other until all those hard steps are far off in the distance and all that remains is how The Lord has used our afflictions to bless us and increase our abilities for our gain. For life really is about choosing to stay on the right path, even when it might sometimes seem difficult or impossible. We need to keep our wheels to the rail and remember,
“Life is like an old-time rail journey—delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed.
“The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride” (“Big Rock Candy Mountains,” Deseret News, 12 June 1973, A4).
Not only do we need to simply thank The Lord for letting us have the ride, it's our job to choose the right paths, to not give up or get stuck somewhere along the way, to always keep moving forward, and to find joy in the journey, not just in the hope of the destination.
The concept of HARD THINGS keeps coming up lately. A few examples from the last week alone include The Little Engine, the quote "I can do hard things," and a little gem from a film called A League of Their Own. When Dottie wants to quit and walk away from baseball, Jimmy Dugan catches her and gives her a little pep talk/chastisement about how wrong she is. She tries to use the excuse, It just got too hard." Jimmy responds, "It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard...is what makes it great." There are a million "hard things" that we are asked or have to do in life, and what is hard for one may not be hard for another. In fact what may be hard for a certain individual at one point in his/her life can sometimes become easy after time, practice, and a change of attitude. "The hard" itself isn't always great, but the feeling of accomplishing "the hard" can be even more rewarding.
Chemo is hard. It's beyond hard. I hate feeling sick, tired, and all the other negatives that come in the whole package. I don't know if I will ever be able to say that the "hard" of chemo makes it great, but I can see in small glimpses that when this is all over, I'll be able to look back and see everything I was able to go through and come out successfully; That will be great! A big part of the joy in the journey is in the way we choose to approach the hard parts.
We are given agency to choose our actions and our reactions, but not our trials or consequences. We are able to choose whom we will serve--whether it be good or evil--and even when it may seem harder to choose to serve The Lord, oh how much greater that "hard" is. {Joshua 24:15} The difficult part of choosing the right is always trumped by the blessings. We are told up front that this path is the more difficult and challenging one in Matthew 7:14: "Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it." Just because His way is strait and narrow doesn't mean that we should give up. The only way to grow, to become strengthened, and to be more perfect is through the "hard." We all have a long way to go to reach perfect, so we are pretty much guaranteed that there's even more hard things to come across. I love this quote:
“God set His standards this high so that we won't make the mistake of aiming low. He made them unreachable so that we would never have the excuse to stop growing.”
― Alex Harris
Every time I see a Lowe's commercial with their catch phrase, "Never Stop Improving," I find that to be a great motto for life. There is never a time when we are done working, growing, serving, perfecting, learning...improving. Much of that takes time and hard work, but it's great when we make it over a hill or mountain and get a glimpse at the peace and perfection we're ultimately choosing to seek. We can't receive a fullness of life's blessings if we are not striving for perfection and following the strait and narrow path, even though it's hard. As C.S. Lewis said,
"It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad." Beautiful, right? Just when we might think things are decent and fine, we go through something difficult. The cracking out of that shell is hard. It's work. It's uncomfortable and might hurt a bit. But, then we're out, and have so many more places to see and explore, are not held back by that tight shell, able to move so much easier, and have the ability to accomplish so much more than before, and be more prepared for more of life's challenges and blessings. We should never stop trying, never stop improving. The difficult times also open up new blessings, strengths, and opportunities, especially when we are on The Lord's side. He has promised that even though "thou hast suffered afflictions and much sorrow...thou knowest the greatness of God; and he shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain." {2 Ne 2:1-2} This is yet another way of reminding us that "the hard" will be great in the end, so keep on moving forward on that strait and narrow path!
I'm convinced that there are many, MANY things I needed to learn from enduring this trial. One of them is that I need to not be so uptight. There is a balance between structure and chaos, and I needed to find a better balance by calming WAY the hell down about certain things. I would let little things like a lost toy drive me crazy for days. I'm still not perfect in wanting to have control and order, but I've learned to let go of some of the things that don't matter in the long run. Having cancer definitely forces a person to refocus energy on what is truly important! Another hard thing to learn is to go ahead and try, to not give up just because something is hard or it's not particularly something I think I'll be good at. Being a bit of a perfectionist has made me somewhat timid in trying new things at which I think I might fail. I *can* sing and used to be able to play the piano, but got to a certain age when it wasn't fun and I never wanted to sing or play in front of anyone--even family. It's kind of hard being in the shadow of other family members who are NATURALLY and brilliantly musically inclined. Since I knew I'd never be the best, I kind of just let that fall off the radar of my life. I regret burying that talent in the sand because I've lost so much of it. I gave up and lost out on blessings because of it. With cancer, giving up is not an option. I'm not the best at this, but I have to do it. I have to keep going. There are too many people who need me, even in my imperfect state, who just want me to be well and happy. It doesn't matter that I'm not the best, the prettiest, or the most energetic because I'll cross that finish line with the people who love me unconditionally there to greet me, and no one else matters. I need to be more like that with taking chances in the future. Just because I don't cross the finish line in first place, I need to have experiences and challenges that push me and make me work for something more without giving up when it gets a bit difficult. I could learn a thing or two from Thomas Edison: "Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time." And just like "the hard" parts of life will be different for each person, what it takes to feel "the great" of success will vary. The trick is to take notice of both, while not comparing your "hard" or your "great" to anyone else's.
Already I have seen some calm moments in the journey, some breaks along the path, when simply having the ability to do everyday tasks--laundry, grocery shopping, taking all 3 boys to run errands--is more enjoyable because I CAN do them!
It really is true about how we take things for granted until we no longer have the ability to do them or you never know what you have until it's gone. At the beginning of all of this, I didn't know how I was going to get through chemo, especially with the boys. I kept stressing about how it was all going to work out. I had to learn to not worry about things I couldn't control at every moment and just have faith that things would work out. Now, I'm mostly done with the 2nd to last of my chemo doses, and somehow, it's all worked out! It has definitely not always gone smoothly--or even according to play--but we've been very blessed! It's becoming easier to see how--on a small scale--I CAN do hard things.
Some people seem to "have it all." Believe me, no one does. At any moment, every person is dealing with both "hards" and "greats." We all have moments when repeating the phrases "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can." or "Gonna make it. Gonna make it. Gonna.make.it.Gonna.make.it. Gonna.make.it...." {another favorite movie quote} are the only ways to make it one more second. But somehow, we make it one second, then another, and another, and before long, all that stands between you and 6 months of chemo is one more dose! Just like The Little Engine that could, we can! We can carry heavy burdens to new heights, over the tall mountains, in order to bless the lives of others. We can feel the great joy that comes from accomplishing something hard. We can make it one step in front of the other until all those hard steps are far off in the distance and all that remains is how The Lord has used our afflictions to bless us and increase our abilities for our gain. For life really is about choosing to stay on the right path, even when it might sometimes seem difficult or impossible. We need to keep our wheels to the rail and remember,
“Life is like an old-time rail journey—delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed.
“The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride” (“Big Rock Candy Mountains,” Deseret News, 12 June 1973, A4).
Not only do we need to simply thank The Lord for letting us have the ride, it's our job to choose the right paths, to not give up or get stuck somewhere along the way, to always keep moving forward, and to find joy in the journey, not just in the hope of the destination.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Tuesdays with Melodee
If I had hair, it would be nearly impossible for anyone to tell I have cancer this week. I've been able to eat what I want and do what I want, having my regular energy. It's been a blessing and even a vacation!
Speaking of vacations, because I felt so well, we were able to take a weekend getaway trip to my cousin's wedding! I'm so grateful it ended up working with my good weeks--silver lining. I only really needed to pull the "cancer card" in order to sneak into the AC a little early since I was BAKING in my wig. I forgot to bring a scarf, so I ended up spending the entire reception completely bald, but I was in good company!
Since Stephen has picked up several extra shifts at work, the boys and I decided to stay in Dripping Springs for the rest of the week, and the relaxing and rejuvenating has continued. There's been a little organizing, lots of time with family, and plenty of this:
Speaking of vacations, because I felt so well, we were able to take a weekend getaway trip to my cousin's wedding! I'm so grateful it ended up working with my good weeks--silver lining. I only really needed to pull the "cancer card" in order to sneak into the AC a little early since I was BAKING in my wig. I forgot to bring a scarf, so I ended up spending the entire reception completely bald, but I was in good company!
Since Stephen has picked up several extra shifts at work, the boys and I decided to stay in Dripping Springs for the rest of the week, and the relaxing and rejuvenating has continued. There's been a little organizing, lots of time with family, and plenty of this:
I can almost forget I've got to start this entire process all over again next week.
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