Welcome to my world

I am a wife, a mom, a daughter, a sister and a friend.
I've learned that who you have in your life matters more than what you have.
Thank you for stepping in to my world!

Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1615


2018 is barely thirty-one days old and already I hate it.  
This is insomniac blogging at its worst.  

Six weeks ago my mom lost her best friend to cancer.  They had been the closest of friends for decades.  They had seen each other through good marriages and divorce.  They had raised children in the same neighborhood and shared a love of music, peace and nature.  It was devastating that such a youthful, healthy woman 70 years young could succumb to such a horrible disease.

It's even more devastating that I am on the verge of losing MY best friend to that same damn disease.


It was almost four years ago that I went to visit my dear friend Allyson after I had finished chemo.  She had fought the good fight and went home to hospice care when there was nothing else to be done.  It was the last time I saw her.

Tomorrow (or should I say today) I am flying to Virginia to see Trudy.  My oldest and dearest friend is reaching the end of her fight.  She is weary and her body is weak, but her soul is at peace.  She has been my best friend for over three decades.  We've seen each other through heartbreak and love, childbirth and loss.  I can't imagine any world without her in it, but I especially can't imagine MY world without her.  

One of Trudy's greatest strengths is her faith in the Lord, and I'm doing my best to mimic that.  While my mind is screaming "WHY??????", my heart is seeking peace through His word.  I don't know what else to do.

Psalms are some of my very favorite Bible verses.

HE HEALS THE BROKENHEARTED AND BANDAGES THEIR WOUNDS. - Psalm 147:3

I'm counting on that.  
I have experienced quite a bit of loss in my life.  But none of them hit as hard as this one.

There are tears streaming down my face and a knot in my stomach, knowing my trip tomorrow will probably be the last time I see my BFF.  Life will never be the same.  We may live far apart, but she has never, never been far from my heart.  So many years of memories, so many laughs.  Her friendship has been a comfort I can't even describe.  

I'm relieved for her.  As her husband put it, she's been a valiant soldier.  But she's tired.  She deserves a rest.  She deserves peace.  I just wish with all my might that those things didn't come with such devastating loss to those of us who love her.  

I've never had to prepare myself to say goodbye.  I don't even know where to begin.




Monday, January 29, 2018

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1613

Two days ago I received a text that shook me to my core.

It was from my BFF's husband, on her phone, telling me that she was in ICU and they weren't sure she was going to make it.



This picture was taken in 2011..... before breast cancer touched her life.  Before that same cancer touched my life.  Before breast cancer returned to her life.

I met Trudy on the first day of junior high.  She sat in front of me in homeroom (her last name began with KO and mine was KR... with only that pesky Kipp Kramer in between us), and we were inseparable from that day on.  We had other friends, sure, but it was always me and her.  It was sleepovers and trips to the mall and movies and cruising in her mom's blue Camaro and skipping school to go to Wurtsboro for breakfast.  Beach vacations with our families, parties, birthdays and new year's eve parties.  More concerts than I can even remember.


As adults, life took us in different directions, but oddly enough, back to the same places, too.  I lived a few hours from her when she had her first child and I was able to visit when he was only a week old.  Her husband was stationed in Abilene when I had my first child so Trudy was able to meet him when he was only a day old.  They lived in San Antonio when she had her daughter and I was the one she called to come stay with her son while she was in labor.  I was able to meet her baby girl when she was hours old.  She was able to visit me 9 months later when I had my baby girl.  


Even when life took us in very different directions, we've been able to reconnect.  We spent a spring break in San Antonio after she'd moved to Alabama.  We've coordinated trips home to New York in the summer so we could spend time together, most of the time around July 4th.  Last year my kids and I took a detour on the way to NY and spent almost a week at her house in Virginia.  It.Was.Awesome.

In our 33 years of friendship, there have been times where we have been inseparable and there have been times when we've gone months without talking.  Not because we wanted to, but because life gets in the way.  Husbands, kids, school, jobs, families... CANCER.

The year before I was diagnosed with breast cancer, Trudy beat me to it.  If any of you knew us back in the day, you would not be the least bit surprised to find out that not only did we both end up with the same damn disease, but our situations were practically identical.  
She was diagnosed as Stage III.  Me too.  
Her cancer was hormone-receptor positive (estrogen/progesterone).  Me too.  
She was positive for the BRCA2 gene mutation.  Me too.  
She had a bilateral mastectomy and hysterectomy.  Me too.  
She did chemo, surgery, radiation and hormone suppression therapy.  Me too.  
The only difference is that I chose to have reconstruction.  

Trudy was diagnosed last year with a recurrence, which moved her to Stage IV.  Incurable, but hopefully treatable so she can live a long time.  Unfortunately a series of different chemo regimens have stopped some of the cancer from growing, but not all.  If you've ever been through chemo, you know that it takes a tremendous toll.  She was receiving chemo when I saw her in July.  It is now January.... almost February.  That's a long damn time to be getting chemo when your system can barely tolerate it.  

Getting that text on Friday was so heartbreakingly awful, I couldn't process it.  I spent hours in bed crying.  Crying for her.  Crying for her husband.  Crying for me, because I'm so damned far away.  The first thing I thought of, after "I don't want her to die", was "I need to go see her."  I was ready to dry my tears (with the help of Hubby's Xanax) and hop on a plane.  

Yeah... that didn't happen.  You know why?  Not only do I have commitments here, and two kids that are busy with activities, and a job.... but a plane ticket was going to cost almost a THOUSAND DOLLARS.  Where the hell do I live, Bora Bora?  $895 to fly from Texas to Virginia.  This is not a "woe is me" tale about how I can't afford to go see my friend.  I'd make it work.  I'm still trying to figure out how to make it work.  One of our mutual friends just drove from NY to VA to spend 4 hours with Trudy, then turned around and drove home.  I would do that.  I wish I COULD do that.  But it's a 23 hour drive from Texas.  Not 7 or 8 hours.

Since that awful first text, things have improved.  Trudy was diagnosed with pneumonia and a sepsis infection..... serious illnesses on a good day, life-threatening for someone in Trudy's medical condition.  The doctors were questioning whether she would survive it.  Making it through the first night was huge.  Showing signs of improvement all day yesterday was huge.  Wanting to eat and drink something today was huge.  The fact that she's alive and fighting after everything she's been through is huge.


BAH, I know you are weary.  I know your body is weak.  I know cancer is undermining every step you take forward.  But you, my Trude, are a fighter.  You still have girl scout cookies to sell and bowling competitions to watch and roller coasters to ride.  We still have more concerts to go to!  Blake is waiting for us, Trude!

I don't know what tomorrow will bring, or the next day.  I don't know if we will have her for another 2 weeks, 2 years or 2 decades.  All I know is that it won't be enough.  Trudy is the friend that knows all my secrets and loves me anyway.  She shares my love of Pepsi, Bachman pretzel rods and Jax cheese doodles.  Over the last few years she has developed an incredibly strong faith, thanks in part to her son's strong faith.  

Matthew 11:28-30
 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
  
I hope she is resting..... resting up for the fight of her life.  There are so many people who love her.  Everybody likes Trudy.  She's uncomplicated, fun, funny and loyal.  She is a petite redhead without a redhead's temper.  She is a lefty who can't carry a tune in a bucket (something else we have in common), and she doesn't really care what anyone thinks about her.  She's nice to them, they are nice to her.  She has a husband.  She has two kids.  She has a father, a sister, nephews.  She has extended family, and a lot of friends.  And she has me.  There has never been a time, since I was 11 years old, that Trudy was not a part of my life.  I refuse to believe that that time will start now.  She has too much life left to live.


Trudy, you are my hero.  You showed me the way when I had to walk in your shoes.  You never complain, you're never dramatic.... you just take what life throws at you and then move on.  You're the sweetest, funniest friend with the most beautiful heart and I am nowhere near ready to let you go.

Keep fighting.  Stay strong.  Rest and recuperate.  Eat jello when nothing else tastes good.  Drink a slush from Sonic.  Cancer is a formidable opponent.... one you may not be able to beat.  But for now, you can beat it back.  I'm praying for you. My family is praying for you.  My friends are praying for you.  People in my online breast cancer support groups, most of whom haven't even met ME, are praying for you.  You are so important.  And so loved.  Never doubt it. 

 LYLAMP BAH



Saturday, January 20, 2018

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1604

Yesterday I slept all day.  Literally all day.  I got the kids up and off to school, then took a shower before work.  After my shower I was extremely nauseous and ended up calling in sick (after getting sick.... blah).  I promptly fell asleep on the couch.... and did not even move for five hours.  I woke up when Hubby came home from work, and he sent me to bed.  There I went back to sleep until 7pm when I finally emerged, feeling somewhat human. 

I don't know what made me sick, or why I was so tired.  All I knew is that I.WAS.EXHAUSTED.  I can't even explain how tired I was.... it was BEYOND tired.  I didn't have the energy to do one single thing. 

I seem to have this pattern of going, going, going until I hit a wall, and then sleep overtakes me.  But never like this.  Usually it's just an extra long nap, or going to bed one night at 8pm.  Sleeping all day?  That's a bit concerning to me.

That brings me to this post that I wrote almost two years ago..... it's sad that most of this is still happening.  The physical things haven't gotten much better, and some are worse.  I still feel the same as when I wrote this.  I'm tired of being tired.  I'm tired of worrying.  I'm tired of feeling like I can't get anything done.  I'm tired of feeling like the lousiest wife and mother on the planet.  I'm just freaking tired.  (And once again wide awake at almost 1am)

Kicking cancer's ass - day 883

Insomniac blogging....

So I'm wide awake at almost 1am.  This time it's not because I can't fall asleep.  It's because I DID fall asleep.  I had a headache and felt "off" this afternoon, so I slept like the dead for about three hours.  Rest I needed, sure, but waking up at 7pm means I'm still awake in the wee hours.

Hubby teased me about sleeping "all day", and even made the comment "who are you?" when he and K came home from basketball practice.  I know he was just giving me a hard time, but I also know there's a part of him that meant it.  He's probably so sick of my drama.  He has to be, because I'M so sick of it.  If I'm not at a doctor's appointment, I'm worrying about a symptom that's prompting me to make an appointment.  I'm not sleeping at night, I'm tired and napping during the day, I have no energy to do the stuff I used to do.  My back hurts, my knees crack, my left arm swells during the night.  I can't even joke "Not tonight, I have a headache" because most of the time I DO have a headache!  Who wants to live with that 24/7?

Honestly, he got the short end of the stick when he married me.  I've forced the "in sickness and in health" vow on him to the millionth degree.  So on top of all of the other post-cancer crap, I'm dealing with worry and guilt over not being the wife I want to be, and not being the mom I want to be for my kids.  It has been 883 days since my first chemo treatment.  That's a lot of freaking days.  I've been through a lot, no doubt about it, but I'm here, I'm alive and well and I'm blessed with family and friends.  So why is everything so incredibly hard???  Sometimes I feel like I was stronger, happier and more together in the middle of chemo than I am now.  I am a cancer survivor.  I tell myself I should be treasuring every day and just be happy I'm alive.

Yet I'm constantly overwhelmed.  My former perfectionist OCD multitasking expert self is nowhere to be found.  The shelves in my living room are still empty of our belongings two weeks after the carpet guy finished.  One of these days I would like to reclaim my laundry room, but I just can't seem to summon the energy to open the storage tubs full of knick knacks and photo albums.  More often than not we eat out because I either can't remember to plan ahead or can't find the energy to cook.  I stress over making healthy choices about eating because there are so many things I love that are bad for you.  I'd love to lose the thirty pounds I've gained, but it's hard to find motivation when fatigue is my constant companion and every joint in my body hurts.  I want to be the fun, spontaneous mom that makes childhood a magical time for her kids, and yet I'm just not her.  I want to be the sweet, caring woman that my husband fell in love with all those years ago.... not the tired, grumpy, complaining person I am now.  I haven't talked to my BFF in months.  Not because I don't want to, because I forget to call.  I want to do more.  I want to be more.

I found a great blog by Debbie Woodbury called "Running on Empty - Coping with Cancer Stress"
She describes everything I'm feeling so perfectly.  It's worth a read.

She says:

But the transition from patient to cancer survivor is not an easy one and the new normal brings its own cancer stress. Even for prisoners, the re-entry phase into normal society is usually gradual, but such is not the case for most cancer survivors. Family and friends want to return to normal life as soon as possible, and who can blame them? The cancer survivor wants that too, of course. But what we want is not always what we are capable of achieving, which causes even more cancer stress (and often, full-blown cancer anger.) After all we have been through, we are running on empty and only capable of so much.  

Who I am right now is unacceptable to me.  And yet.... what can I do?   I'm on antidepressants to help keep my mood even.  I'm taking supplements to help me stay healthy and to combat the side effects of the medicine I'm on.  I try to exercise at least 30 minutes a few times a week, which is the best I can do right now.

But it doesn't feel like my best is enough.  *I* don't feel like enough.
I feel like I'm letting my husband down.  I feel like I'm letting my kids down.  Even after 883 days, cancer is draining me.
I'm running on empty.

Friday, January 12, 2018

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1596


Yesterday's blog post got me thinking about concerts.... both ones I've attended and just in general.  Concerts are a big business.  If you don't know that, have you tried to purchase a concert ticket lately?  You practically need a second mortgage to afford most of them.  It's an expensive hobby.... but one that's good for you.  Surprised?  Read on.

US News & World Report posted the following article describing the health benefits (yes, health) of attending concerts:

6 Reasons going to concerts is good for you  (including stress relief and exercise!)

There are three types of concert people in the world:


There are people who go to concerts because they like live music, or they are friends with or married to someone who likes live music.  They don't mind going, but they sit in their seat and maybe mouth a few lyrics while checking their watch every 10 minutes.  They don't take pictures or videos and they certainly do not stand for anything except to hit the concession stand.


There are some people who wouldn't be caught dead at a concert.  Being surrounded by thousands of screaming men and women with music blaring and lights flashing, and having to pay to experience that?  These people say HELL NO!  


Then there are people who can't get enough.  They are the ones who pay more than they should to get the best seats (or the best standing room!).  They are the ones who know the words to every song and sing loud and proud.  They are the ones who stand from the first note until the end of the encore.  

I most definitely fit into that third category.  I've been fortunate to be able to attend quite a few fantastic concerts lately, and more than a few in my lifetime.  There are still some artists on my bucket list that I have never had the chance to see (The Eagles, Keith Urban, Daughtry, Blake Shelton, Kenny Chesney, Eric Church.....), but from my very first concert as a young girl (Rick Springfield) to now, I've amassed quite a resume of concert attendances.  

I wonder how many I can remember.  (The ones in italics were opening acts)

Air Supply
Alabama
Kelsea Ballerini
Beach Boys
Clint Black x2
Garth Brooks x3
Luke Bryan x2
Tracy Byrd x2
Mary Chapin Carpenter
Collective Soul
Sheryl Crow
Billy Ray Cyrus x too many to count
Dan & Shay
Jordan Davis
Def Leppard
Neil Diamond
Diamond Rio
Deryl Dodd
Melissa Etheredge
Florida Georgia Line
Foreigner
Vince Gill
Pat Green
Heart
Ty Herndon
Faith Hill x3
Alan Jackson x2
Chris Janson
Billy Joel
Journey
Lady Antebellum
Miranda Lambert
Cyndi Lauper
Tracy Lawrence
Little Big Town
Lonestar x2
Patty Loveless
Martina McBride
Reba McEntire
Tim McGraw x4
John Michael Montgomery x2
Montgomery Gentry
Justin Moore
Kip Moore x2
Lorrie Morgan
Brad Paisley
Jon Pardi
Kellie Pickler
Cassadee Pope
Collin Raye
REO Speedwagon
Darius Rucker
Sawyer Brown
Ed Sheeran
Rick Springfield
Chris Stapleton
Rod Stewart
George Straight
Taylor Swift x3
Pam Tillis
Shania Twain x2
Drake White
Trisha Yearwood x2
Brett Young
Chris Young

I'm sure there are more, but that's what I can come up with.  Quite the list, huh?  More concerts than years I've been alive... by a bunch.  


Thursday, January 11, 2018

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1595


I've always been a music lover (even though I can't carry a tune in a bucket), and it seems the older I get, the more I love it.  One of my very favorite things to do is go to concerts.  Last year was an exceptional year for concerts for me.... take a look:

April 2017  Garth Brooks & Trisha Yearwood  (my third time seeing him... he just gets better with age!) - Lubbock, TX










May 2017  Tim McGraw & Faith Hill  (I've seen them before, too, but still fantastic!) - Tulsa, OK










August 2017  Brett Young, Kelsea Ballerini & Lady Antebellum - Dallas, TX









October 2017 Tim McGraw & Faith Hill (yes, again)  - Dallas, TX




November 2017  Kip Moore (I looked forward to this one all year!) - Fort Worth, TX








After reliving some of my favorite concert moments from last year, I'm excited for 2018.  We already have two concerts lined up.... Aaron Watson/Pat Green right here in Abilene (Aaron Watson is a local guy) at the end of this month, and Kip Moore at the San Antonio Rodeo in February.  I'm thankful that my daughter loves music and concerts as much as I do!







Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1586



I'm a day late (and more than a few dollars short... ha ha), but happy 2018!  

Want to know a secret?  Four years ago tonight, probably right about now, I let Hubby take my first ever nude photos (not counting the ones at the plastic surgeon's office, because those are clinical, not personal).  We had to be at the hospital bright and (super) early the next morning for my surgery.  It was surgery #2 in my cancer journey, and it was a biggie.  I would be under the knife for eight to ten hours and would wake up with parts of me gone.  

I've always had low self-esteem and I've never really enjoyed being naked.... so posing for a picture without clothes on, even with my husband, was supremely uncomfortable.  But it was something I had to do.  Cancer had already taken my hair months before during chemo, and on January 3, 2014 it was going to take my breasts.  I wanted a reminder.

Eff you, cancer.

In the four years since that day, I have regained some normalcy with the way I look.  My hair (thanks to my fabulous friend/hairdresser Tonya) looks like it used to.  I don't have that pale, sickly pallor that follows chemo patients around for weeks.  And I have (if I do say so myself) pretty amazing foobs (fake boobs) compliments of my extremely talented plastic surgeon.  They look normal when I'm wearing clothes, and they don't look too bad without clothes.  That's the plus side.

When a woman undergoes a bilateral mastectomy, there is a lot of damage done to her body.  A lot.  The surgeon removes all breast tissue (and cancer!) all the way back to the chest wall, sometimes skin, and lymph nodes.  In my case, being BRCA2+ and already having 2 nodes test positive for cancer, my doctor went all out.  She removed all of my lymph nodes on the cancer side, including the ones on my chest and all of the nodes located under my arm.  24 total.  The good news is.... with a surgery that extensive, a lot of nerves were severed, so I couldn't really feel much pain.  The bad news is.... I couldn't really feel much of anything.  I still can't.  Despite regaining some feeling in certain areas, and despite the fact that my foobs are warm and squishy, made from tissue from my own body, for the most part I have little to no sensation in the parts that count.  Aside from the fact that cancer is a disease that KILLS PEOPLE and it tried to kill me... this loss of sensation is one of the things that pisses me off the most.

I basically have no lady parts left.  My breasts are gone.  My ovaries are gone.  My uterus is gone.  I take an estrogen blocker, so my female hormones are gone.  Trying to look and feel good as a woman is a battle every single day.  

In order for me not to be a complete downer today, I'm going to take that sentence to heart.  I have a lot of scars, and I have a lot of stories.  Not all of them are fun, funny or pretty.  But what I'm going to post next is pretty entertaining.  It's my blog entry from after my surgery, when I had a lot of time to do nothing but make observations about things in the hospital.

Things I've learned in the hospital:
.. It's not as fun being in the hospital when you're not having a baby. The only other times I've had a hospital stay were when I had my kids. Getting to hold a cute little newborn makes up for feeling pain and discomfort!
.. I do not like peas. I definitely don't like peas in chicken noodle soup! The food here is decent, but really... who puts peas in chicken noodle soup?
.. I have got to get me some of these inflatable leg pump things. They would go a LONG way toward helping my restless legs syndrome!! I love them. Think anyone would notice if they disappeared into my suitcase?
.. I hate hospital gowns. I was a thousand times happier once I got cleaned up and into my own pjs.
.. Having a mastectomy makes you feel like you bench pressed 500 pounds. Not that I know what that feels like exactly, but i imagine it's a similar feeling.
.. My hubby is an excellent caretaker. He has been phenomenal... right there to help me up or hand me my chap stick or get me a drink. I bet he's probably almost as exhausted as I am. I love him.
.. Sonic sweet tea is YUM, especially when you're extremely thirsty.
.. Nurses are very concerned with their patient's bathroom production.
.. Oral pain meds are not nearly as effective as the morphine pump.
.. Something about surgery made my hands swell and I haven't been able to put my wedding rings back on. This bothers me.
.. I thought I would be sad when I saw my incisions for the first time. I wasn't. I think of them as battle scars, and wear them proudly since I am kicking cancer's ass!!