It's been quite awhile since I had an actual appointment with Dr. Cole. So long, in fact, that my nurse, Mike, began to think that my so long from the last appointment of, "see ya'll next time, unless I stroke out!" might have come true. He made sure I knew that he was worried about me....but he only worried for maybe 15 or 20 minutes.
Dr. Cole has a student doctor following her around, so several people made sure I would be ok if she came into my room, as well. I am all about supporting more female oncologist who chose to learn from good ones. As my nurse reminded me, "We've got to make sure we have the best, so they need to be trained by the best!" [Flashback to the secretary's voice over the speaker in my room: "Mrs. Cooper, your student teacher is here!" *me: [immediate shock and bewilderment] "I don't have a student teacher." secretary: "Yes, you do." It was the complete wrong semester for me to take on a padawan, which I made clear to my principal, and she was reassigned. Now, however, I wonder if first assigning her to me was a sign of trust from my principal, that she knew I was one of the best.]
I digress.
My appointment went well. Nothing to report except BCBS still won't cover Perjeta. Their latest excuse is that while taking the drug, cancer came back, therefore proving that it is not necessary, as it does not prevent cancer in me. What they failed to recognize is that only my brain has had any change in the last several years. Nothing from the neck down. Could it be that Herceptin AND Perjeta are protecting my body and fighting that nasty disease away to the best of their abilities? There are limits to where they can fight, as they cannot cross the blood-brain barrier. It's that dark, shadowy place for these drugs, but cancer cells like it. And, since estrogen and Her2 can exist there, cancer has something to feed on.
But, those doctors at BCBS must know SOOOOOOO much more than I do about effectiveness of expensive drugs that they don't want to pay for.....
Next, I had my infusion of Zometa, a once every 3 month drug that helps with my rickety, old bones, AND Herceptin.
Since I know have a much shorter treatment time, it's not as easy to conceive and create a blog post while under the influence. Luckily, I spoke in church this past Sunday, and I was pretty happy with my monologue. I thought I'd share it here:
*for those who might have been part of any of these examples, the exact words might have been adjusted to fit my story.*
We recently returned home from a beautifully exhausting family trip to Yellowstone. The travel plans included a flight to salt lake city meeting up with the rest of my family, then renting a car for the journey north.
As my Dad helped me move something out of the trunk, he asked how I was doing. ‘fine,” I sighed, “but it’s been a rough 48 hours on little sleep and traveling across the country with kids isn’t always the easiest.”
He chuckled a bit and then attempted a quick guilt trip. Do you realize how lucky you are to have flown 1300 miles across country in just 3 hrs!? Imagine if you had to come to Utah with the pioneers. It would have taken months to travel the same distance and you would’ve had to walk, and walk, and walk, and walk, AND WALK.
*for those not of my faith, there is a children’s song that uses this phrase.*
Always the child to want to give my father a taste of his own medicine, I replied, yeah, dad, but your comparison doesn’t hold up in my case. If I lived back in pioneer times, cancer would’ve taken me long before all that walking would have!
Most of us aren’t called to walk the plains. We have other trials and have been given different talents in order to walk our paths.
Craig C. Christensen said, “Heavenly Father knows all about you. Your strengths, and weaknesses. He knows perfectly who you are, but he also knows who you can become. And with that knowledge, he has placed you here now, At the exact place and time in which you can do the most good with the talents and gifts he has given you.”
Doing all this good will help us to stay on the path to Zion. These good things might include having a home that feels like heaven on earth, being part of a church family, trying to build a community full of charity, visiting the temple worthily as often as possible to feel the spirit there, and to move forward with the goal to make it back to our heavenly home. Just like all that pioneer walking, we are called to press forward with faith, until our journeys are complete.
But, how are we able to keep pressing forward on the path, when life is so full of challenges and we just want to stop walking?
We definitely don’t make it all at once, or on a jet plane. It’s one foot in front of the other, one drop in our lamps at a time, line-upon-line, slowly working on talents; not burying them in the ground. It’s walking our walk, even when it’s lonely, every day over and over and over and over AND over…until it’s finished.
It’s fitting that I was asked to speak on this principle of enduring to the end and ways to keep moving toward Zion because I have been walking a difficult path for quite some time.
Six years ago next week, I was waking up from major surgery and experiencing the worst pain of my life. Much of the tissue from my lower abdomen had been moved up to replace what had to be removed from my chest, due to cancer. I felt like a cut-up-and-stitched-back-together monster, yet helpless, incapable of doing anything on my own, unable to breathe without holding a pillow tightly to my chest, unable to use my arms to adjust my body in the hospital bed [or nearly anything else, for that matter] surviving only on pain medicine and help from others.
For weeks after leaving the hospital, I had drains coming out of my body, which felt like tentacles. I couldn’t shower independently or feed myself, or walk unassisted. I had to have people care for my children 24/7. This, from a formally strong and independent and busy mother of three boys, who were ages 6, 3, and only 18 months old at the time.
Giving up, however, was not an option for me. I had to keep going for my family and myself. At first, even small steps felt impossible, but my new life became easier over time.
As I continued to follow the physicians’ instructions, I was slowly able to regain strength, to remove the drains, to shower on my own, to change my babies’ diapers, to dress myself, to see my scars clear up somewhat, and even clean my own bathroom, among other things.
Then, two 1/2 years ago, cancer reached my brain, and I was told I had less than a year to live. Stephen recently admitted to me that when I left the room for radiation tattoos, the doctor warned him that I’d be lucky to make it 6 months. All this time later, and I’m still walking!
I realize not everyone has experienced this trial, but all have suffered in various ways. It is up to us to endure in our own journeys, to not shrink, to keep walking and seeking Zion, but how?
Of course the typical answers come to mind: daily prayer, scripture study, service, temple and church attendance, incorporating Come Follow Me, and so on. Sometimes, though, “All the Things” at once is overwhelming. Like, after a General Conference, I often feel saturated with goodness, but also so aware of all the areas in which I lack. In order to move forward with all the commandments, it has helped me to break things down to small pieces in order to keep walking, even if it’s just inch-by-inch.
Here are my 3 favorite tips in breaking things down to manageable sizes:
First, just keep walking. Keep on working—whatever that work may be, keep on living. Try to be an example for your children, your friends, other people’s children, your neighbors, even strangers. Never giving up means that you don’t stop. Even if your pace seems hardly measurable, you inch, ever so slowly forward and stay on the path.
Howard W. Hunter said, “True greatness … always requires regular, consistent, small, and sometimes ordinary and mundane steps over a long period of time.”
When you take steps in prayer, or service, or with a smile, by faith and hope in Jesus Christ, you are doing great things. When you refuse to change your compass from your Heavenly Home, this life will begin to feel closer to and more like Zion, even in an ever-darkening world.
Next, walk further today than you did yesterday, or in a different way than you did before. Make and keep goals, but give yourself a break when you need one. There have been days when body has been so weak and helpless that I could not get out of bed. Over time, it’s gotten better, but there are still days when treatment knocks me out. As I never know what fun challenges will pop up on a given day, I have developed a pep talk:
“It’s okay to do one thing a day.”
If one daily goal is all I’m able to accomplish, I’ve still done something. And, if I have time for more things, I keep making small and steady steps. It’s amazing how all these days of just one routine goal add up over time!
Virginia H. Pearce explained it this way in 1997, when she said,
“Do you see yourself as heroic…because you get out of bed every morning, comb your hair, and get [where you need to be] on time? Do you see the significance of doing your homework every day and recognize the courage displayed in asking for help when you don’t understand an assignment? Do you see the heroism in going to church every single Sunday, participating in class, and being friendly to others? Do you see the greatness in doing the dishes over and over and over? Or practicing the piano? Or tending children? Do you recognize the fortitude and belief in the journey’s end that are required in order to keep saying your prayers every day and keep reading the scriptures? Do you see the magnificence in giving time a chance to whittle your problems down to a manageable size?”
All these small goals are how we learn and grow our testimonies and slowly, VERY SLOWLY, over time, move forward on the path. We shouldn’t be too hard on ourselves because of the pace of our steps.
Our Savior sees us as great when we improve, no matter the pace. Try to do better today than you did yesterday, and if you don’t, forgive yourself and do better the next day.
Finally, learn to look on the bright side every day, I’ve heard it sung that even one spoonful of sugar will help the medicine go down. We are on earth to gain a body and be tested, but also that we might have joy. These bodies and tests are often the things that try to steal joy, which seems to go against the plan. I believe this is life’s biggest challenge: to learn to find sunshine in the storms of life, to keep walking in the rain, to let our light shine, even when we might not feel that shiny.
A few days ago, my son, Ryan’s, coach told me, “I have been doing this for a long time, and he is a kid that is filled with the most joy I have ever seen. He likes to play and have fun, but never to interfere with instructions. Even though he has worked so hard on high bar and parallel bars and rings that he has rubbed his hands raw, he still has a smile on his face.”
What an example to me of finding joy in the journey, even in the midst of hard work or pain.
In the darkest, most painful hours of my cancer battle, I found a little light by learning to be better at giving thanks for my blessings. Through prayer, or writing my experiences, by reading scriptures to find answers, through our family tradition of sharing our best of the day over dinner, by watching movies that make me laugh, or going into nature, or taking long bubble baths, or reading good books, or visiting with family or friends, or being able to cook dinner for my family, and yes: even regaining the ability to do my previously least favorite of all chores: the dishes…..I began to see countless blessings, which became countless ways to find joy along that rocky path. We all have REALLY bad days, some more than others. However, in learning to become more joyful, we move closer to Zion, the pure in heart.
There they are. My three tips:
1st: Just Keep walking. All those steps will add up to plenty of oil to light your way.
2nd: Reach for the milestones, even one moment at a time.
3rd: Remember to find joy along the path.
Our Heavenly Father and His son, do not expect us to do all the things, all the time, every minute of every day. They expect us to try. They expect us to grow. They expect us to learn. They expect us to let their light shine through us. They expect us to forgive and ask for forgiveness when we fall, and to accept their hands when they are reached to help us back up, and to have faith that it’s all in the plan that we will stumble and fall, but that we can get up to walk and walk and walk and walk AND walk some more.
