Check up, check in, new doctor, old feelings

For some reason, I can be zooming along carelessly and free, breathing in each new day as it comes...and then I look ahead in my planner and see that I have my three month check up soon.

I log into MyChart to verify the appointment (not for a couple weeks because I'm sure someone will ask) and call to make a follow-up with my plastics that corresponds with when I'll be at the Clinic.  I still have my survivor face on.  You know the survivor face.  It's plastered on billboards and mailings.  It's in words like hope, fight, faith, strength.  The woman making the appointment takes my information. 

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry you are going through this.  My daughter is your age.  I can't even imagine.  Do you have children?"

"Yes, I do.  Very active children.  That's why I'd like to get in on the same day I'm at the Clinic if at all possible."

"Hold on, I'll get my supervisor.  Maybe she can work you in even though it's a surgery day for Djohan."

There's this expectation of survivors that I can't really put into words, but I can feel.  In some ways this expectation is great.  Case in point, a YOUNG survivor with CHILDREN gets first dibs on appointments and they will rearrange the surgeons schedule to fit me in.

Another example I have noticed, everyone loves to see me living life to the fullest.  When I post a picture, smiling and happy, it brings a sense of pride and inspiration to everyone.  I understand this flood of emotions because I feel the same way when I see a fellow survivor flourishing and happy.  You all witnessed the hellish last year of my life and now it feels good to see me living again...

But there is also a downside to the expectations that come with the word survivor. A word that will always be attached to my name..."Oh, I'm sure you know Laura.  She's the young woman from town that had cancer last year".  I don't want to always be cancer Laura and I do a great job of not letting the word define me...until it's check up time.  

I confirm my appointments and use my survivor attitude, but then I can never resist opening the test results tab on my personal online site:

 Glandular (Acinar)/Tubular Differentiation: 3 with treatment effect
Nuclear Grade: 2 with treatment effect
Mitotic Rate: 1 with treatment effect
Overall Bloom Richardson Grade: II with treatment effect

Lymph-Vascular Invasion: Extensively present

Ductal Carcinoma In Situ (DCIS):
DCIS is present
Type: Solid
Nuclear Grade: 3
Necrosis: Absent

Lymph Nodes:
Number of sentinel lymph nodes examined: 6
Total number of lymph nodes examined (sentinel and nonsentinel): 6
Number of lymph nodes with macrometastases (>0.2 cm): 1
Number of lymph nodes with micrometastases (>0.2 mm to 0.2 cm and/or
>200cells):1
Number of lymph nodes with isolated tumor cells (less than or equal to 0.2
mm and less than or equal to 200 cells): 0
Number of lymph nodes without tumor cells identified: 4
Size of largest metastatic deposit (if present): 2.5 mm

Extranodal Invasion:
Present
Amount: 0.5 mm

Pathologic Staging(AJCC 7th Edition): ypT1a(m) ypN1a

So I read this section of the report, process the information I know and match it with my online medical doctorate, and I can't breathe again.

This is where the downside of the expectations of a survivor comes into play. I know what I'm EXPECTED to think, how I'm expected to act, what people want me to feel, but I can't choose those thoughts as an appointment approaches. 

Instead of peace, there is fear. 

Instead of strength, my spirit holds on by a teeny tiny thread.  

Instead of hope, I think of milestone gifts that I want to buy my children IN CASE it comes back. 

Instead of faith, I question WHY!?!?!?!

Instead of fight, I force Aaron into conversations where we talk about how hard he expects me to fight if it comes back.

These are not new feelings.  Once you have heard the words, "you have cancer", they can't be unheard.  Just when you start living and stop worrying about dying, you have an appointment to remind you of that day that you sat in the doctors office while the doctor confirmed your greatest fear.

In conversation last week I said, "I'll see you Friday!" but I really meant SUNDAY.  In my current mindset, that AUTOMATICALLY means the cancer is back in my brain.  NOT that I'm a overactive freak with too many activities in the planner.

Or, someone that has been a pillar of strength, wisdom and grace; a person that meets and exceeds all expectations that define a survivor, has a recurrence.  And you feel like a ticking time bomb again.  ***I LOVE YOU RENEE AND I'M PRAYING LOUD AND CONSTANT!!***

I've always been a people-pleaser.   If I'm expected to do/act a certain way, most likely I will.  The majority of the time I feel like I portray "SURVIVOR" well, but as an appointment approaches and I compile the list of questions for my new doctor (yes, Holly left the Clinic.  No, I don't want to talk about it.  It sucks and I'm not happy), it's much more difficult to shut the doubt out of my mind.

So this is me checking in with you, but also with myself.  I'm not excited to meet the new doctor, but I have thought about it and another set of hands and eyes can't be a bad thing, right?!  Maybe he'll be really hot...never mind, I just googled him.  Maybe he'll be really funny!  Either way, Holly picked him specifically for me, so there must be a good reason and if he's not a good fit, I'll go oncologist shopping.

Still smiling, but hugging a little more tightly.  Sitting on the porch at night with my hubby instead of zoning out in front of the television.  Going back for the extra kiss during whack-a-mole bedtime after a long day. Breathing in the smell of the monsters when they climb onto my lap and softly touching their soft hair as it brushes against my face. Folding myself in Aaron's arms when I walk in the door instead of immediately starting the housework. 

Hopefully you will do the same.

All my love,

Hot vs Beautiful Convos with crackheads...I mean my family

 Keegs: Dad, do you think Mom is hot? (Giggle giggle giggle)

Ron: What?

Keegs: There's a boy at STARS that tells me that Lilly is hot. Is Mom hot?

Lilly: Ew, he's gross, Keegan.  Tell him not to say that. (Camille quietly studies all of our faces for any type of reaction)

Ron: Yes, bud, I think Mom is hot, but more importantly I think she's beautiful.

Keegs (dying laughing):  YOU THINK MOM'S HOT.  YOU THINK MOM'S HOT!

Ron: Yes, I do.  But I love her because she's more than just hot.  What makes her beautiful is the stuff in her heart.  I love the way she treats people and the way she thinks about things.....

Keegs (Interrupting and dying laughing): YOU THINK MOM'S HOT!! YOU THINK MOM'S HOT!!

Mom:  Give up and try again in a few years, honey.  BUT, I am pretty hot!! ;)

(I mean the gay bartender did take two photos of my FOOBS when I asked him to take a picture of Aaron and I on our anniversary date!  Ok, so MAYBE he really only took the foob pictures to see if I'd say anything to him and ask him to take another photo, but still!)

Hopefully, the monsters will notice how much fun we have together and realize that it's not all about how "hot" someone is.

 Always entertaining with Keegan though!  Never know what that little boy will come up with!! (I'm sure he gets the insanity from his father!!) Perfect example:

Fine, I'm the green texts.  I take full responsibility for messing up the monsters:)

Laughter is the best medicine,

It's Not JUST a Game

Daren wrote a post about youth sports.  I LOVE it (and I’m actually not going to contradict any of his points;))! You should TOTALLY read it if you haven’t yet because it’s a great post.  You can read it here: http://publiclookin.blogspot.com/2013/10/guest-post-its-just-game.html

But to me, it’s not JUST a game.

It’s so much more.

Most of the time when I fill out the sports registration forms for the monsters I do NOT mark the coaching box at all.  The majority of the time I create my own box with an asterisk or two: *Will assist if needed*.  Even when I think to myself, “DON’T MARK A BOX.  BE A PARENT!!!” I receive an email that says, “Hey, I signed you up as my assistant. I hope you don’t mind.”

And, I don’t. I don’t mind because I love all of the little monsters.  During the season they become part of my family.  I see them almost as much as the monsters that destroyed my stomach and each one of them is special to me. I understand the importance of youth sports and would never want to rob any monster of the opportunity due to lack of volunteers because...

To me, it’s not just a game.

It’s a chance to encourage determination.  We have a big game tomorrow night (tonight as of this posting…GO CATS) and more than half of our team showed up at the batting cage for nearly THREE hours at an OPTIONAL practice that I didn’t even attend.   They are striving and working to be the best at what they do. What if we all had this type of determination at our place of employment or better yet, at being the best person we can be?

It’s a chance to build trust and teamwork.  One of my monsters was part of a team that taught the pitcher to run the ball to first base every time and it infuriated me. Not because I didn’t understand that it was easiest way to get the runner out at that age, but because it was telling the monsters not to trust their teammates (and as a lover of the game, I want them to learn the correct way to play)!   So many times in life the quickest, less complicated way to complete a task is to do it yourself. However, when you are part of a team, this strategy builds resentment and anger very quickly and certainly does not encourage teamwork.

Ahhh, teamwork!  We had one game that the monsters lost their minds and started to crumble on the field.  When I went out to huddle they were all pointing fingers at each other and blaming everyone other than themselves.  (I have 8-11 year old monsters on the team and sadly, this finger pointing starts young and never really ends as we age!)  I looked around the huddle and I asked if they had each made an error this year. I asked them if they had each struck out while up to bat this year.  Once they were quiet, I told them that you can’t point fingers because nobody intentionally messes up.  Everyone needs to support and encourage each other to be the best player and team we can be.  Teamwork and trust are hard to nurture, but they are necessary skills that are important the remainder of their lives.

It’s a chance to learn respect and independence.  At the beginning of the season there were monsters (MINE INCLUDED) that instinctively rolled their eyes at me when I attempted to present advice to them.  Can you imagine if you rolled your eyes at your boss when they asked you to change something?  (OK, everyone knows that I totally roll my eyes at my bosses, but not when it’s about work/work product!)  I haven’t CAUGHT any eye rolls since I mandated push-ups for every eye roll.  I haven’t had to pick up equipment in weeks because they know if I pick it up, they are running to get it back.  They ask politely to leave the dugout for bathroom breaks or band-aids, but no longer ask me to find their gloves between innings because I’ve told them that’s not the coaches’ job.

It’s a chance to teach humility and confidence.  We played a great game against a top team during the regular season and the very next game…we stunk it up!  Everyone needs a wake up call sometimes; a reminder that there is always someone/some team that is better. As they practice and grow, they are seeing their hard work pay off.  They are getting on base more often.  They are making more outs in the field.  They know they can beat any team if they work together and play hard.  The game is teaching them the difference between confidence and cocky.

It’s a chance to learn and grow while having fun with friends.  It’s a chance to learn dignity in losing; and grace in winning.  It’s not just a game.

Sports are such a huge and wonderful part of my childhood that I am honored when I'm asked to coach.

Just like the monsters that trashed by body, these girls drive me INSANE. They bring me to tears because I am so PROUD of them.  They teach me more lessons about life than I can ever teach them. When I make hard decisions and they aren’t happy with me, it breaks my heart, but I remember that disappointment is also a huge part of life and it’s not my job to shelter them from it.  (I haven’t broke out in “YOU CAN’T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT” yet, so this season’s going fairly well;)) Sometimes they don’t listen and I have to be stern.  Other times they are so funny that I forget they are monsters and not my friends.

Their smiles melt my heart.  Their tears break it.

It’s not JUST a game, but so much more.

Win or lose, I’m so proud of them!

 GO NAVY SEALS!!

 

Can You Teach Friendship?

 My mother believes in "the more the merrier" with every fiber of her being.  I was taught from a very young age things like: keep a LARGE circle, INVITE others to join, don't label one or two friends as your best friend, you can NEVER have too many friends.

And it worked PERFECTLY!!

FOR ME.

This motto, "the more the merrier",  works perfectly for Lilly.

It's not how Camille is wired.

I have talked to many of my friends about the struggles of young friendships and the complexities of why some little monsters make friends so easily while others come home discouraged and feeling left out.

I hate Hate HATE when Cami comes home and tells me that so and so were telling secrets and it made her feel sad. I know that she's super sensitive (and most likely blowing the incidents completely out of proportion), but it still breaks my heart to hear the pain in her voice. I do believe that experiencing the feelings of disappointment are further shaping the traits that she will seek out as she selects her friends. (I also know that if Lilly were in the exact same situation, it wouldn't even phase her.  If she did notice they were talking quietly, most likely she'd walk up to the people telling 'secrets' and ask what they were talking about!)

So, I've started researching and reading.  This is one of the best articles I've found on friendship so far and a brief excerpt: http://www.bostonglobe.com/ideas/2012/09/01/how-kids-make-friends-and-why-matters/7ZNKqGszwNq5PDmdCh1M7H/story.html

"Whether you’re a boy or a girl, there is always the risk of a friend disappointing those expectations: letting you down, making friends with someone else, or just not being there for you. How kids handle such disappointments, MacEvoy says, ends up dictating a lot about how well they hold onto friends over the long term. “If you’re going to participate in friendship, you’re setting yourself up to be disappointed,” MacEvoy said. Not holding a grudge is crucial to maintaining friendships, and being incapable of it causes some kids to flit around from one friend to another, successfully making friends but quickly losing them."

I'm fully convinced that Camille will be one of the very best friends in the world when she eventually selects her circle.  I'm certain of this because a couple of my bestest friends are like Cam.  They are the most loving and devoted of my friends because they keep their circle small and protect it proudly.  They only trust a few people with the space in their heart. {They tolerate my need to have a large circle and understand that if and when they need my undivided attention, they simply need to ask.} For the most part my "Cami friends" prefer smaller crowds and more intimate conversation.

I never really thought about all of the different personalities and their effect on friendships, how and why you choose friends, or if you can teach friendship...until I was a parent.  Now, instead of preaching the "more the merrier" motto to my sweet little introvert, I'm forced to think differently and come up with different tactics on how to be a good friend.

I think about how to guide her, but not baby her often.  She still hides behind me when there is a big crowd.  It takes her until we are just about ready to leave a big party to start playing with the other monsters.  She pulls my ear down to her cute little  whisper voice, "there are too many people here" when we go to parades.  And I worry about her when I force her into a new social situation.  *My three monsters started STARS at Woodmore last week and are LOVING it so far! HIP HIP HOORAY!*

But in reality, she's leaps and bounds above my emotional sophistication at her age and I can learn more from her than she can from me.

The other night Camille told me a secret.  We talked about secrets and she confessed she doesn't trust Lilly (her older, cooler sister) with her secrets.  I asked her why not and she said that Lil would tell tease her and she probably wouldn't understand.  I told one of my girlfriends the secret (because the secret is so absolutely innocent and adorable!!) and now I'm lying to Cami and telling her I didn't tell anyone!!  She asked me if I told anyone about one hour after I told my girlfriend and I feel awful because even though the secret is harmless, I broke her trust.

How am I supposed to teach her things about friendship!?!? ;)

I think Cam already has a great handle on what she is looking for in her friends.  Much more than I grasped at 6 years old!! I think the ability to trust a friend is at the top of her list.   Maybe she learned it at friendship class?! She did ask to sign up for the extra class and talks about how wonderful Mrs. Closius is whenever we see her!

 What do you think?  Can you teach friendship?

  There is nothing as wonderful as being friends! I am so fortunate to have such amazing friends in my life and want nothing more than for my children to have the same as they grow up.

XOXO,

Life is Hard, Live it Anyways

Since one of my friends said that she can't really grasp what is going on in my pretty little head unless I let it spill out in black and white, I'm guessing most of my readers and followers would never really think of this part of my "treatment plan" if I didn't write about it either.  This subject might not be as funny as some of my posts and I'm not sure if I'll be able to describe some of the emotions effectively, but I'm going to give it a shot.  An insiders look at my thought process this week...the life of a survivor.

Life is hard.  Live it anyways.

Tuesday morning I grabbed my new favorite drink from Red White and Brew (Thanks for getting me hooked, RHI!) and then scooped up a couple of my girlfriends.  I asked them to join me for a couple appointments because I didn't know if I'd feel up to driving home. Anyways, on the way there we laughed and they did a great job of distracting me of my thoughts of foobs, needles, side effects, implants, etc.

I'm willing to bet that the two of them (that know me VERY well) weren't able to pick up on some of the thoughts going through my pretty little head, so I'll try to paint the picture in words for you.

Before I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I delivered three little monsters.  I gained anywhere from 45-60...yes SIX-ZERO pounds with each pregnancy.   My stomach is TRASHED.  Stretch marks (whoever thinks they are a badge of honor is obviously smoking crack...my stomach is a battle field.  I guess it is a honor to visit a battle field.  Oh whatever, I hate my stomach! I used to have this perfectly flat stomach that I pierced and decorated and flaunted whenever possible.  Now I cover it at all costs.) galore.  Scars from ovary removal and a hernia add to the awesomeness.  It's a really pale, gross white color to top it off because I won't even lay out in my own backyard in case someone stops over.

And then as I look farther up, I have these two foreign objects that are extremely hard and unusually round. Instead of nipples I have a scar line that crosses both of the foreign objects that are now referred to as foobs.  No matter how saggy, full of milk, shrunken post-monsters your real boobs are, they are REAL.

As I think of these things that I'm about to expose to my best friends, the nurse enters and we start talking business.  How big do you think I should I go?  Do you think silicone or saline is better and why?  Are there different shapes? How do I choose?

And so that I can continue to breathe, I act like this is no big deal.

Life is hard.  Live it anyways.

***I'll continue, but I'm sure some of you are wondering why I would invite my friends along if I'm self conscious?  For starters, I'm a firm believer in KNOWLEDGE IS POWER!!  If, heaven forbid, someone else is diagnosed with this disease, I want to be able to say that I led by example, that I taught from my experience and that I helped empower as many women as possible on my journey.  Second, the more I expose myself, the less I have to hide.  The more comfortable I feel in my own skin, the closer I get to accepting my new body as beautiful.***

So we continued my foob appointment like it was no big deal.  We all joked with my plastic surgeon.  He made my left foob bigger because my skin is still mad at me for radiating the crap out of it. He wants to stretch it further so he has more room to work when he swaps out the tissue expanders for implants.  My friends attempted to comfort me and pretend that it's not noticeable...they'll still stick to their story and claim it's the angle/view I have and it looks fine to them, but I own mirrors;)

And then we went to get my Reclast IV.  One of my girlfriends asked if the poke hurt?

 No, it didn't physically hurt, but mentally it reminds me of stick after stick after stick last summer during chemo.  I look around the room of patients and know that the majority of them are fighting for their life and it aches deep in my heart.  I look at them with acknowledgment that only survivors can grasp and wish that I could take even the smallest part of pain away from them. For a second, I am drawn back into conversation about what we need to pack for our upcoming vacation and I halfheartedly chime in. Yet, my thoughts are consumed with the man next to me that must be getting a nasty concoction because the nurse put on a gown over her scrubs to give him his infusion.  He glances in my direction and shows me his port site.  I smile with all the courage I can muster and force myself to concentrate on my girlfriends so that I don't start crying.

Life is hard.  Live it anyways.

After my infusion we went to lunch and shopping.  I pretended that I wasn't counting down the minutes until the side effects would start.  I tried to convince my brain that I wasn't going to have side effects from this treatment.  We laughed and reminisced and enjoyed each others company the rest of the day.  I am thankful for their love and support always.

When I arrived home, I went into "nesting" mode.  No, I'm NOT having another monster!!  But I don't know what else you'd call it.  I started doing all the things that needed done the rest of the week.  Teachers presents, setting out clothes and uniforms, going over the planner.  IN CASE the treatment caused side effects.

I woke up Wednesday morning and I felt like a bus hit me.  My head was pounding.  It felt like my head was going to explode when I looked at light.

EVERY.SINGLE.BONE.JOINT.AND.MUSCLE.ACHED.

Life is hard.  Live it anyways.

 
I showered, put on my happy face, and went to my SURVIVORSHIP visit with my radiologist.  I admitted that I was dori and allowed the nurse to put my iv in my LEFT ARM and now I have a vein that is pissed at me. (If you have lymph nodes removed, you should never have blood drawn/iv placed on that side again if possible...but I forgot:/) I freaked out about lymphodema and was instructed to make a line, watch for progression of my pissed off vein, elevate my arm as much as possible, and wear my awesome protective sleeve. I also made an appearance for my baby boy at his loved ones to lunch, but for the most part I slept the day AND night away. 

I felt better today and hopefully tomorrow I'll be back to new.  Ready to give the monsters their recorders back to them and laugh with them as we annoy Aaron with them;)

An insiders look at life after cancer.

Life is hard.  Live it anyways.

Lots of smiles and love,

Proofed and posted from work this morning...feeling as normal as I get!! ;)

Busy Mom Against the World Part #3

 So, I started this "series" a couple years ago with the intention of posting about it more often, but life is BUSY so I don't get to the "Busy Mom Against the World" series very often;)

 I also need to start with a disclaimer: Things do NOT always get done in the Strong house.  Saturday I asked the littles coach, "When do we have snack?"

She responded, "UHHHH, LAST WEDNESDAY!  YOU DIDN'T BRING IT!!"

SO, obviously, I'm not claiming to be perfect...and we are totally going to rock our second snack opportunity.  And by ROCK, I mean BUY something really cool, nothing homemade or anything!! It's not THAT big of a deal that we missed snack when that's really the ONLY thing the little monsters care about when they are 4-6 years of age!!! (SARCASM!! I'm sure the little monsters were devastated to not have snack.  Thankfully, Krista didn't tell the little monsters that the Strong's rents suck at life and didn't send one to the game!!)

-----------------------------

Ok, I really wasn't going to post about me being a craptastic mother that forgets snack.  I was going to tell you about some of the tips that the strong family is working on to keep up with life.

~SOCKS!!! My monsters are folding socks and separating our undergarments into piles every weekend.  Usually it includes complaining.  "MOM, we just did socks!!" To which I respond, "No, that was a week ago.  You don't have to do them, but I'm not dropping you off at your sleepover tonight, taking you to your game, going to the parade, etc. if you don't.  You decide!"

~TOWELS!!  Same thing! Once a week, they fold the towels.  They are not folded as nicely as if I would fold them, but they are folded and I can fold the other clothes while they sort socks and fold towels while I FORCE them to talk to me:)

~SINKS!  During my attempted cleaning tizzy last Friday, I went to get toilet bowl cleaner out of the kids bathroom and noticed both sinks were disgusting.  They are SUPPOSED to clean the sink out each time they brush their teeth.  I clean it once a week, but they are SUPPOSED to rinse it every day.  Keegan was the only one home so he "got" to clean all three bathrooms with me and didn't have to fold socks.

Responsibility.  These monsters are old enough to help out and be responsible for their own things.  I get their water bottle ready for them and set in on the table.  THEY are responsible for grabbing it, putting it in the car AND bringing it home. Same for their gloves/cleats/hats/etc.  If they don't, they don't have it for the next time.  They will learn eventually!  If we continually do it for them, when will they learn?  I tell my softball team that I have three children of my own, I have no desire to have 12 additional children, so they need to pick up after themselves...if I do it, they are going to run to get their things back!

MEAL PLAN! I'm SOOOOO not going to pretend to do this!! But, it does save us a lot of time!  Aaron plans out the meals for the week and cooks them ahead of time when he can.  This way we don't resort to McD's or pizza on busy nights and we have everything on hand to cook what he has planned because he makes the grocery list around the meals.  Thankfully, he's a great cook and does the grocery shopping and cooking, so I suppose the tip for moms here is: Train your husbands properly!! :)


Anyways, those are my thoughts on keeping up with life today.

Any ideas on a good snack?!?!

XOXO,

Laura

So Much Better to Give Than to Receive

At Bible study a couple months ago we were talking about my journey with cancer.  One of my friends said that she just knew it in her heart that there was a reason that this was part of my journey.  I told her to shut up! This journey sucks, this plan sucks and nobody is benefiting from this torture!  I certainly was not benefiting from the side effects, the hair loss, the aches and pains.  I don't think my kids would have picked to have a Mom that missed games, couldn't push them on the swings, or didn't have the energy to go swimming all last summer. I'm certain that my husband would prefer my small real boobies over the big, perky foobs and wishes he would not have been forced to be the optimistic half of our pair when he's accustomed to being the Eeyore half of our pair.

I still don't really care for the aches and pains that I have daily or the headache that doesn't ever seem to completely go away.  I don't particularly care for the weight that I gained or the tightness of my clothes.  Hot flashes are not my favorite thing in the world and night sweats cause a lot of additional laundry. The physical scars honestly don't bother me at all anymore, but the emotional scars and the roller coaster of "what if" I could certainly live without.  (What if there were microscopic "c" cells floating around in other lymph nodes? What if it comes back in my bones or worse my brain? What if I have to look at my loved ones and tell them this news?)

But, then I took a few weeks away from social networking so that I could survive the brutal schedule of three monsters in multiple activities.  During that break I received a forward from the parents of this beautiful girl pictured below from a surrounding community that read: "I still can't thank you enough.  Between the head wraps (Rhi also contributed to this smile greatly) and the wigs, you've helped give her this smile back."

Remember how I wanted to burn my wig? How I was convinced that I simply flushed a big chunk of change down the toilet since I didn't wear it!?!

LOOK AT HER!! HOW BEAUTIFUL AND ABSOLUTELY PERFECT THIS BEAUTY IS IN THIS.  I NEVER would have guessed it was a wig, let alone the one that sat on my night stand for 10 months!!  Hair loss is so difficult and to know that this wig made it a little less painful for this young girl makes the money seem like nothing!!  Knowing what I know now; knowing that it would bring her such joy, I would have spent twice as much.

Psalms 34:18 - "The LORD is close to the brokenhearted; He saves those who are crushed in spirit."

The very next day, I received a comment on my blog that read:  "Laura, I was the recipient of your beautiful gift at Taussig yesterday during my first chemo treatment. I love the book, the and the quilt with all the scripture on it was answer to prayer. I also have a blog that started back with my youngest daughter's diagnosis 3 years ago www.jascawleyfamily.blogspot.com. Thank you so much for passing your inspiration along!"

I have read her recent blog posts and I couldn't have picked a better person to receive the survivor gift I asked my oncologist to pass along!! Please pray for Sarah as she continues to fight!!

 1 Chronicles 16:11 Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always.

This weekend, we enjoyed the beautiful weather with friends and family, we remembered and honored, we laughed and cried, we lived.

This morning I texted with a fellow survivor and spoke candidly about life AFTER cancer.  Struggles that most people don't realize, most certainly don't talk about and can't be blogged about.  When she admitted that it made her giggle and HOPEFULLY empowered her a little, I realized once again: It's so much better to give than to receive.

And maybe my friend was right (don't ask me to admit it ever again, Kelly:P),  but cancer probably was part of my journey for a reason.

 I have a lot more to give now.  More love, more time (I'm continuing to work less hours!! :)), more patience, more life experience, MORE HOPE.

Give often, give freely.   It's good for the soul.

Love and hope,