Two Steps Forward

It's been five weeks since my surgery.  Every time I think I'm really getting better, a little something happens to put me back a few steps.  I've felt so rested this week, have been able to keep my pain down to a minimum, and was down to only one dose of pain meds a day.  I've still been taking it easy, but have felt a vast improvement this week.  Then, yesterday, I had a harsh reminder that this is a SIX to EIGHT week recovery!!!!!

As I reached over to turn off the alarm on my phone, I leaned a little too much a heard/felt a sickening 

little "pop."  I literally busted a gut checking Facebook.  It hurt quite a bit, and out leaked some reddish-brownish liquid--not fresh blood, the opening appear to just be superficial, but I'm no expert.  Not really knowing what to do, I consulted my resident RN, who suggested I call my surgeon.  I got in touch with them on the way to chemo, and had to wait for the nurse or PA to call back.  I asked the nurse at my oncologist's office to look at it.  She was able to get the nurse at Dr. Pollack's office to come over and check me out.  Five minutes later, Dr. Pollack herself came over.  Other than noticing the spot of concern, Dr. Pollack said everything looked to be healing well.  There didn't seem to be an infection or too deep of a suture opening, but she would talk to Dr. Boutros to see if he wanted to get me on an antibiotic, just in case.  

It's so frustrating to be held back by physical limitations.  I keep thinking I'm healed--all better!  And, then---POP!--I'm back down a notch or two.  I guess the constant reminders are what I need to keep me from really over doing it.  

Tuesdays with Naqvi--Herceptin #21

After grabbing a quick lunch yesterday, I passed a woman who was waiting to pick up her own food.  I smiled, and she smiled back.  Immediately, she complimented me: "I LOVE your haircut.  Great style!"  {The fact that I have enough hair to actually label it a "style" is worth a mention on its own, but our conversation continued.}  "Thanks," I said.  "I'm being treated for breast cancer, and it's just starting to grow back from chemo."  She replied, "Well, you should keep it that way!  It suits you.  You look great like that!"  I left with a smile and also shaking my head.  Just a few days before, I had been sadly reminded that, no, I didn't need to PIN a how-to for a quick and easy long-hair up-do because I no longer had that hair, and by the time it grew back, I'd probably have long forgotten about that how-to, anyway.  This woman who didn't know me and knew nothing of my story had an unbiased opinion on me looking great with my short hair style, thinking I'd chosen it.  She could see the beauty in something I was wishing could change and looking with eagerness to have the chance to make it "better."  What a difference a little perspective can make! 

I thank that woman for her perspective.  She gave me yet another reason to be grateful and to look at this process with positivity.  What I might have been sad or down about, I can be glad for instead.  I have a good head for the short, punky, spiky hair I'm now growing out.  And, really, my perspective should be on gratitude that I'm healing well and gaining strength.  My thoughts should focus on the positive and on what I've gained during this process, rather on what could be viewed as loss.  

In life, we have frequent trials.  From cancer to cankers and everything in between, a little shift in perspective might take us from feeling down and discouraged to noticing some small--or large--reason to be grateful.   One of my very favorite quotes of all time was referenced by Gordon B. Hinckley, as he quoted a local journalist, Jenkins Lloyd Jones:  

"Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he's been robbed.  Most putts don't drop.  Most beef is tough.  Most children grow up to be just people.  Most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration.  Most jobs are often more dull than otherwise.  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 the thank The Lord for letting you have the ride."  {Deseret News, June 1973.}

If we, on this train ride of life, only pay attention to the smoke and the jolts, there will be a lot of sadness, complaining, and even whining.  We could convince ourselves that things would be SO much better if we had just taken a different train, that this current train is the only one with so many delays.  Perhaps a plane ride or even a bike would've solved our difficulties.  And, in all that complaining, we probably would've missed the beautiful vistas and thrills the Lord was putting in our path, the new friends we could've met on that train, the time to rest while we waited in a delay, or a number of blessings that can be gained, even in times of trial.  Thomas S. Monson calls this type of perspective, finding "joy in the journey."  

The best perspective is an eternal perspective, one that attempts to look beyond the day-to-day jolts and delays to see that there is purpose in difficult times, a need for opposition, and that we are more than just our mortal lives, and can be living for eternal goals.  When we look past the here-and-now of trials and shift to a more positive and eternal perspective, it becomes easier to see some of our trials for what they are--learning experiences.  Boyd K. Packer said, "It was meant to be that life would be a challenge.  To suffer some anxiety, some depression, some disappointment, even some failure is normal...If [you] have a good, miserable day once in a whille, or several days in a row, stand steady and face them.  Things will straighten out.  There is great purpose in our struggle in life." {"That All May Be Edified," 1982}  Why should we struggle in life?  Why can't everything just be easy?  Why do we feel sad and fail?  Why should it seem that some have very few difficulties while others suffer in more ways than one?  Many of the "whys" of trials are difficult, if not impossible, to answer.  So, we have to have faith that everything truly does straighten itself out in the end.  And in the meantime,  we can keep our perspective shifted away from the smoke and dust and onto the beautiful vistas all around us, accepting that the ups and downs are all part of the ride.  A small shift in perspective can even help me see that short, spiky hair can be just as beautiful as a long-hair up-do.      

Tuesdays with Naqvi--Herceptin #20

I like things to be organized.  When I start a project, I usually plan it out in my head, break it up into smaller chunks, and reach the final goal by checking off each step along the way.  Whether it's writing an essay, taking on a home improvement task, putting together a baby scrapbook, or planning a party, that's the way I usually work.  This cancer journey has thrown my usual task-oriented, goal-accomplishing tendencies for a loop.  One of the hardest things about this process is all the unknowns, all those extra things that come up, that I wasn't aware of, but must still be done.  The phrase, "you don't know what you don't know," comes to mind a bit.  I wish there could've been a way to have it all laid out in front of me beforehand, so I could've known a little more about what I didn't know in this chemo journey.  {I'm sure seeing everything all at once like that would totally stress out and overwhelm some people, but for me it would've been nice to see the end goal along with all the small steps to cross off along the way.} Maybe that's part of the process of recording my experiences here--maybe someone else going through a similar journey will learn a little more and see some of the extra steps coming up before they trip over them.  

It would've been quite helpful for someone like me if there was some massive spreadsheet or roadmap, listing out all the appointments, procedures, tests, shots, different doctors, and how everything overlapped and came together ahead of time.  I don't like being surprised with, "Oh, by the way, you need to have this lab work done TODAY," or "you were supposed to have another echo before this next appointment," or "you haven't seen the doctor for your post op yet?"  Um, hello!?  If no one tells me I need to do these things, I'm not just going to volunteer to set up child care and head on down, begging doctors to do more tests and pricks and pokes on me.  And, speaking of child care, I don't have the luxury of just "heading on over to St. Catherine's" at the drop of a hat.  These tests aren't like running to pick up a gallon of milk.  I feel like responding these demands with something along the line of, "that information really would've been more useful to me YESTERDAY"....or at least a week or so in advance.  I've discovered along the way that what I thought I knew, and what everyone I've known who's had a "normal" breast augmentation knows doesn't always apply to my reconstruction.  I also thought after half my body was cut into pieces and much of that tissue discarded, it would show up in the form of weight loss.  Well, it's true what they say about fat {and skin, apparently} not weighing much.  All my old breast tissue was removed along with a bunch of excess abdominal skin, and the scale is only down a few pounds.  I also didn't believe how exhausting it would be to go up and down stairs and try to get back to "normal" 3 weeks after surgery.  They WERE NOT kidding about this being a 6-8 week recovery, and I overdid it too soon.  Those are a few trivial things, but it just goes to show that sometimes It's not until the last minute that I realize how much I don't know about everything that goes into surviving and how that knowledge can affect me.  Not knowing stresses me out.  

But, then I'm quickly reminded about faith and enduring to the end.  In life there is no completed road map, no fully-compiled textbook, no spreadsheet that lists all our required accomplishments and the due dates by which they must be accomplished.  There is no crystal ball that lays out our future paths and instructs us at every turn, so that we already know what our choices should be before we have to make them.  Knowledge is not obtained all at once. Unfortunately, we cannot plug in and download all we need to know about life, our only restraint being the speed of our network connection.  Isaiah tells us that knowledge comes in small steps, "For precept must be upon precept, precept upon precept; line upon line, line upon line; here a little, and there a little..."{28:10}  So it is with each new trial or goal in life.  Some of the instructions and plans can be mapped out and taken into consideration before moving forward.  We can pray for guidance, ask trusted loved ones and experts to help us guide our choices.  However, along the way, there will be changes, obstacles, more knowledge given, and more choices to be made.  There will be unforeseen information or unusual responses that could completely take us off our planned course.  And that's okay.  Line upon line, here a little, there a little, and whatever it is that we are trying learn or overcome will be completed before we know it.       

3 Weeks Progress

Yesterday was a big day, seeing the actual pathology reports from my tissue after the mastectomy were all negative!  Just to give you a little idea of the aggressiveness of my type of tumor, remember when I had an ultrasound and breast exam the week after I completed "The Red Devil" chemo that showed no signs of any tumor?  Well, my surgery was exactly 6 weeks after that last dose of aggressive chemo, and it gave my tumor enough time to start growing back.  The reports described a small, residual tumor from my original site that was removed.  That was enough for me to feel even more confident that my choice to have a bilateral mastectomy was the right one.  If this cancer could begin to grow back in as little as 6 weeks, I have little doubt that the percentage of reoccurrence for the remainder of my life would be quite high without the removal of the majority of my breast tissue.  But, the good news is that the tissue is one, all the samples of my lymph nodes are negative, and I can officially say that my body is free of cancer!!!

Now, I just have to complete my 52 weekly doses of Herceptin, keep taking my estrogen-blocking drugs for 5 years, and visit my breast surgeon for yearly exams for.....well, pretty much forever.  I'll also have another surgery to finish the reconstruction, 3 months from the first one.  And, Dr. P said, as I was leaving her office, "once you're finished with Herceptin, just give us a call, and we can take your port out, just here in the office."  What?!?  Didn't I have full anesthesia and a major surgical operation to put this thing in?  "Taking it out isn't that big of a deal, especially after all you've been through!"  Sure, just like removing a few stitches, right?

It's been 3 weeks since my mastectomy and reconstruction, and I am making progress.  Every day is a little better, and I try to do a little more.  Today, I actually climbed upstairs, something I haven't done since August 20th.  In addition, I put on a t-shirt today.  That might not seem like big news, but today is the first day I was able to get clothing on over my head!  My range of motion is improving, my pain is decreasing, and I'm able to get around better and better.  Before surgery, a woman who'd been through this procedure told me the hardest part of the recovery was the abdominal area, but for me it has been the breasts.  There is still quite a bit of swelling and that is where I feel much more pain.  It's been interesting to see how some of this pain feels more like neuropathy, an uncomfortable tingling, but it's telling me that this new tissue is making connections, and I can feel it connecting, once again another example of pain being a useful thing.  

I'm doing well, but not trying to overdo it.  Tomorrow is my first big test--the first time I will need to get both boys up and ready for school without anyone here to help.  Gonna make it.....gonna make it......gonna make it!           

Tuesdays with Naqvi--Herceptin #19

The topic of strength and weakness has still been on my mind.  I've had time to read quite a bit more lately, and many books have made mention of the power in positive thinking, the ability that each of us has within us to make more of ourselves than we presently are, to overcome adversities, and to become better, even when we are already pretty good.  

Sometimes bad things happen to good people, for no apparent reason.  We may never know why certain trials come our way, but "Why is this happening to me?" is not the question to ask.  "Where can I go from here?", "How can I make the best of this?", "What can I learn from this?", "How can I become stronger because of this?", or "How can I help others and become more understanding because of my trials?" are all much more meaningful, helpful, and answerable.  When we focus on learning through our trials, looking for the "silver linings,"  and giving meaning to our hardships, they might actually become more bearable.  To put it in perspective, studies have been done to determine some of the most painful experiences the human body can endure.  The answers?  Child birth and passing kidney stones.  Why is it that women who might experience both could easily say they would endure the pain of child birth again, but never wish to pass another kidney stone?  There is meaning and joy in the result of the former, and nothing but the elimination of pain from the latter.  When we learn to find joy, even in the darkest times, to find reasons and positive outcomes from our suffering, they are easier to bear, lighter.  Simply "making it through" or "surviving" is one way to pass through a trial, but at the end of that trial, all that remains is the elimination of pain.  There is nothing else to show for the struggle.  It's much better to find joy in the journey, especially because we don't always know when {or if} a time of turbulence will end.  That "stone" might never pass.      

Another thought on pain:  None of us really wants to be in pain, but can you imagine if you NEVER felt pain?  Your body wouldn't be able to warn you of problems before they turned into serious injuries if left unchecked.  Pain is necessary to keep us alert.  If I had to choose between never feeling pain or feeling pain but being warned and able to fix the cause of that pain, I'd choose the pain.  So it is with trials.  If I had to pick between never, ever having difficult times or having trials, but also learning, growing, enduring, and feeling the relief, faith, and joy from overcoming, I'd choose joy.  Without the pain and sorrow, there couldn't be relief and joy, for we'd never recognize the difference.  Helen Keller said, "We would never learn to be brave and patient if there were only joy in the world."  How true!  There must be opposition--pain, trials, sadness--for us to truly recognize and understand the joy.  

I realize that it is not fair to compare one trial to another, one person's reaction to a similar trial to another's, or different levels of strength and weakness.  I hope that no matter where you are when a difficult time comes your way that you will strive to be a little better, a little stronger, a little more positive.  And, "if for a while the harder you try, the harder it gets, take heart.  So it has been with the best people who ever lived."  {Jeffery R. Holland} Trials are hard.  Pain is hard.  Life is hard.  Being strong is hard.  It might be easier to want to give up or give in, to whine and cry and expect someone else to do things for us.  It might be easier to complain and just get back into bed.  But, that kind of "easy" doesn't get us anywhere.  If I had to choose between something that is hard but teaches me joy, I'd choose hard.  No matter where you think you are on the scale between weakness and strength, always strive for strength.  Being a little better and a little stronger everyday is how you become more than you thought you ever could.       

P.S.  Even though I still have to finish Herceptin, Tamoxifen, and keep going to appointments, I have VERY good news to report.  My body is cancer-free!  The residual tumor was successfully removed AND my lymph nodes were clear!  BTHO cancer!    

Oh, and Gig 'em, Aggies!  BTHO bama this weekend. My hair is marooned-out in support!  

Wednesday with Naqvi--Herceptin 18

I consider myself to be a strong person.  Sometimes that strength manifests in its negative connotational forms as being too strong-willed and stubborn, but one main goal of mine this year has been to turn what could be seen as weaknesses into more of strengths.  I'm hoping to mold "strong-willed" into determination, courage, and faith to battle through whatever challenges come my way.  Stubbornness?  Well, some of that stubborn strength is needed to be assertive when it comes to asking for what you need, getting proper care, and protecting yourself and those you love, but I do need to learn to be a bit more humble, charitable, and understanding.  These last few weeks, I've been especially challenged to turn that stubborn strong-will of mine into charity, and in a new light.  

I know every person has different talents.  I know everyone has different strengths and weaknesses.  My entire philosophy of teaching was built on that foundation, that everyone has been given something great, even if it's just one talent, and it is up to each person {possibly with the help of someone like a teacher} to find a way to learn to develop whatever they've been given in whatever way{s} best fit their style{s}.  I know the parable of the talents to be true.  To some is given many and to some fewer, but everyone has been given some great gifts.  It is only when they are not developed and shared that we are to blame and seen as slothful and not wise servants.  I also know that everyone is given challenges and that it is unfair to compare our challenges to others' because breast cancer for one might just truly be another's paper cut.

Apparently knowing something and living it are two totally different principles because sometimes I just feel like screaming, COME ON!!!!  {Or, "Girl, Please!" as the case may be.}  It is VERY challenging for a person of strength to understand why life in general seems so darn difficult for those who just can't seem to handle day-to-day challenges.  I've truly struggled with it the last few weeks.  Here I am, STILL in chemo after JUST having my body cut apart and put back together in a different form, helping my children with the start of school, going to doctor's appointments, writing thank-you cards, keeping up with two blogs, among other things, and trying to keep life as normal as possible, all while in PRETTY intense pain, without trying to complain too much.  Oh, and did I mention that lovely thing called a menstrual cycle fit right in the middle of all of that?  I am not making this list to boast, act like I'm Wonder Woman, make anyone feel bad, or sound like I'm completely responsible for these accomplishments.  Sure, I've had loads of help and have definitely not done all these things on my own, but in the midst of all of this, I've found it extremely difficult to deal with some complaints from others.  I keep thinking things like, "What is SO hard about that?!" or "Really?  You can't keep it together?  There are people out there with no jobs, no place to live, raising more children, working more hours, suffering more severe diseases, facing heavier losses, struggling with tougher addictions, carrying truly heavy burdens, and so on!  Quit complaining!!!!!!"  

I guess I still need lessons in charity and humility.  I have been given strength.  I've been blessed with countless examples of strength.  It has been instilled in me to weather the storms, to take what comes and love it, to bloom where I'm planted, to not be held back by or use my disabilities as a crutch.  I've been taught that there might be times to cry and vent a little--like when you're moving across the country, driving all six of your children, including a nursing baby, by yourself, in August, and the air-conditioner in the car goes out right as you cross the first state line, or when the wood-burning stove falls apart and catches the wall on fire, or the septic tank backs up and there's literally crap backing up into your shower, or when you discover that what you truly thought was residual milk ducts or enlarged lymph nodes is actually breast cancer and not only will you endure chemo and lose your hair, but also your breasts and many parts of "normal" life as you knew it.  Yes, there are most definitely times to vent and cry, but the key is to vent and cry a little and then get up and do what needs to be done, all while realizing that it could be much, MUCH worse!  And, my humility and charity needs to kick in at this point because there are people who do not have the God-given talent of strength.  There are people who find true tragedy and despair in having to change one extra poopy diaper, to endure a hang nail, to have to discipline their own children, or to even to gather the strength to get out of bed.  And, I need to learn to not judge them for that or to attempt to compare my strengths to their weaknesses.  

As frustrating and disappointing it may be when these "tragedies" of others personally affect me, I have to remember that it is not up to me to judge them.  Although I may view their challenges as easy and light, they might feel truly burdened.  Most importantly, our Savior has suffered ALL, and, I have to remember that He is the only one who can judge when someone is truly suffering their burdens well or only using their problems as reasons to be lazy.  In fact, He is probably watching me and thinking, "Come on, Mel!  A little breast cancer?  It's ONLY stage 2B, and it's mostly gone!"......"Thou art not yet as Job; thy friends do not contend against thee, neither charge thee with transgression, as they did Job." (D&C 121:10)  

"And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, [my daughter], that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good." (D&C 122: 7)  In other words....even your situation could be much worse, so be cheerful and YOU learn the good to take from your own challenges.  Don't worry about those people who don't seem to grasp that concept yet.

"The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?"  (D&C 122:8)

It's like I'm being reminded that nothing ANYONE is going through is worse that what HE went through, so how do I have the right to say what a person should be able to handle or not?  And, it doesn't matter because He knows me, loves me, watches over me, gives me what I need when I need it.....AND does the same for everyone else, though no one is at the same point in their journey.

"Therefore, hold on thy way......thy days are known, and thy years shall not be numbered less; therefore, fear not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever. (D&C 122:9)

He makes this promise to me, and to everyone else, even those who, right now, see a hang nail as a reason to take a personal day and get back into bed.