Listen with your Heart

Camille walked in the house tonight after GNC and was visibly upset.  I scooped her up and cuddled her in a blanket on the couch.  She broke down sobbing. 

I mouthed to Lilly: WHAT HAPPENED?? 

With a nonchalant shrug she mouthed back: She answered a question wrong.

I let Camille cry for a good long time thinking that she just needed to have a good cry.  (We all need a good cry sometimes, right?)  She calmed down and I thought to myself, maybe she's just tired?  She was awake early this morning.

I asked her what was wrong and she started sobbing again.  I held her closer thinking she just needed a few extra cuddles. THANKFULLY, tonight I took the time to cuddle her up and didn't dismiss her like I sometimes do when I'm caught in "the busy".

She finally composed herself and we started the shower. 

Mommy, are you dying?  Sally said you're dying.

UGH...instant stomach drop and heart racing and head pounding.  I thought I prepared myself for this!  Shortly after I was diagnosed, a survivor told me a similar story.  But, honestly, I'm growing hair back.  I'm going to workout with my girlfriends for the first time in six months.  I have been working nearly full time.  I didn't expect this question NOW.

Oh, Cami, I'm not dying.  Hopefully not for a very, very long time.  Is that why you were so upset when you walked in the house and saw me?  Honey, I'm here.  I'm fine.

And she hugged me the biggest, sweetest hug in the entire world. Good, Mommy.  I don't want you to die.

And I held back the tears long enough to wrap her tight, get her dressed, and escape to the spare bedroom and type this quick little reminder to listen with your heart.

Those precious little minds are always thinking, always turning, always wondering.  When you think to yourself  they're just tired, get it together.  Maybe, just maybe they're struggling with big, adult, life issues. 

Listen with your heart.

Getting a few extra cuddles in tonight.  Please join me.


 

Show Compassion: Thankful Day 7

 

Two weeks ago I went to the Cleveland Clinic to have my final expansion.  I decided that it was worth the extra miles to drive all the way to the Clinic vs the Avon satellite.  I decided it was worth putting more saline in at each appointment and getting pumped up more often.  It was worth the extra pain and discomfort and extra inconvenience to be pumped up faster and be ready to start radiation sooner.

 

The radiologist looked at the calender at my first appointment and said she wanted me ready by tomorrow (11/7).  I worked hard to be ready!  3 months after my last chemotherapy treatment is tomorrow and I worked my ass off to be ready.

I went to my last consult thinking I would have my simulation and start soon.  While I was waiting for the doctor I was excited.  "I did it!" I thought to myself.  My plastic surgeon is satisfied with my foobs, I hit the deadline, and I'm going to be done with radiation by 2014...

 

I was going to post that I was thankful for nice comfy robes instead of the usual hospital gowns!!

But then they told me that they need to deflate my right foob to get the best angle during radiation.  They want to minimize damage to my heart and lungs and in order to do that, he wants my right foob FLAT.  NON EXISTENT.

DEVASTATED. PISSED. SAD. FRUSTRATED.

I am just getting used to these bad boys.  I don't have to wear a bra.  They are big and perky and the scars aren't THAT bad (by not that bad I mean that nobody will see them other than Aaron and my friends that are nosey;))

 

I went home and sat on my bed, in the dark, and cried.  For more than a hour! The ugly cry where I don't take breaths and my chin quivers. I don't have one loved one that can stand to watch the ugly cry.  I cried that cry.

 

Aaron came in and out of the room often to make sure I was ok.  He laid with me a while and absorbed as much of the ugly cry that he could.  He offered advice, reminded me that it's my choice of doctors, that I could get another opinion, that I should call my existing team to get reassurance and guidance.

 

I called Holly (my amazingly wonderful oncologist). She reminded me that we're working at the CURE.  If I need her to be in my corner and call the mean radiologist, she will, but she thought I could make the decisions by myself after all of the information was collected, after I stopped the tears, and she even suggested a glass of wine...I haven't admitted to her that I'm a beer drinker.  I like to pretend that I'm sophisticated sometimes;)

 

The PA at my plastics office pulled some strings and landed me an Avon appointment on Friday to deflate my foob. She reassured me that the process wouldn't be as painful when they re-pump because my skin and muscle will be more flexible.  They'll be able to pump up faster and with less side effects. She told me that it was going to be fine and wished she could give me a hug right that second.

 

I posted the pouty picture above and immediately friends were mad for me, sad with me and prayerful always.  Reminders to see the big picture, that I'm so close to the end, that they'll love me when I only have one foob were posted to facebook and in my text inbox.  One girlfriend even had a beer in my honor (and I actually like her wine because she works at Mon Ami and they have the best wine ever!!);)

 

One of my fellow warrior sisters put a bug in the radiation nurse's ear that I'm one of hers.  So now, even though I'm not at the Clinic, where my brother and sister in laws pull strings, I have a fighter in my corner for radiation.  And you know what? Millers know how to fight.  I can't think of a better family to have in my corner when I need fighters.  So Kelly is fighting for me, working with me and keeping the process moving. I will have simulation on Monday and start radiation the following week. (Thanks, Rhi.  Love you so much)

 

During Bible Study the leader asked us how and where we see compassion in our daily lives?  During Bible study I was struggling find examples.

 

Really I just needed to think about my evening.   Stories of compassion were ALL around me.  Surrounding me when I feel DEFLATED.  Holding me up when I need extra support.  Loving me always.

 

 

Three months after my final chemotherapy treatment, I'm thankful for compassion. 

 

 

 

 

Show compassion,

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Strength-Thankful Day 4

Today I'm thankful for strength, but it would take too many words on a status update AND for the people that HATE the 30 days of thanks, this gives them the opportunity to skip my thankful post today if they don't want to click on the blog link;)


Like Kelly posted on my facebook, there are a few reasons that I focus on feeding my inner strength constantly and consistently. 

Side note:My outer strength has wilted away to nearly zilch (is that even a real word?) at this point.  I have zero desire to work out, my trainer is out of commission, and I'm probably not going to want to workout when I start radiation in a week/two either.  Y'all are going to have to deal with the inner tube (the roll that I THINK I've convinced my plastics to help with when he works on my foobs) for a while-sorry!
 

 I must talk and write about the things that keep me alive enough that most people know already because Kelly isn't the first to pick up on it.  I received this awesome Oragami Owl charm from Aaron's cousin, Lynne.  November birthstones, MOM, CROSS, S, pink ribbon and "love" is engraved in the charm.  How 100% me!!  My girlfriends gave me a nearly identical charm so I must be living a pretty transparent life.  Or at least what I value most is pretty obvious to the outside world.

 

 

This week I SHOULD be struggling to stay above water.

I'm physically exhausted from lack of sleep. (I'm hoping that after my muscles and skin relax a little, I'll be able to sleep more comfortably with my big foobs!)

Our car decided to take a shit. One mechanic turned down the work. (THAT'S NEVER GOOD!) The dealership didn't want to give squat for trade in. BUT, there is a mechanic working on it this week and since this type of car is known to have problems with the crank shaft, there is a nifty kit that can fix it (at the tune of $1500-$2000, but that's better than the new engine that he thought we might need;)) I'm writing this during my lunch break because I'm stranded at work until MUCH later than I normally stay here, so I'm actually taking a break today!

Lilly has a slight case of pneumonia in one lung, threw up a couple times yesterday, and I have to take off of work tomorrow because they don't want her to return to school until Wednesday.

Anyways, I need to wrap this up quickly because I have to research which kind of cream that I want to purchase in order to minimize the burning during radiation.

But, you know what!?! I'm not sinking!!

Actually, I'm in a really good mood considering the storm I seem to be right directly in the middle of!

I've been spending a ton of time with the kids.  We had a blast with family this weekend.  I was able to squeeze in time with a couple forever friends this week. I've been reading the Bible more often.  Bible study is back in full swing:)  I can feel the love all around me. 

Find your what feeds your inner strength and focus on it!  Feed it constantly and consistently.  You never know when you're going to need it!

I'm thankful for strength today. 

 

Believe

Since my monsters tattled on me to my mother, I suppose the world can know. 

I got my second tattoo!

BELIEVE

 

 



 

This is me trying not to use my favorite curse word.  I'm done with tats.  They hurt!  This picture is my reminder that they hurt! 

 

A few of my forever friends played "white trash tats" and another is playing with us the next time we see her.  Aaron refers to my ink as "white trash tats"...as you would guess, it made me want the ink more than I already did;)

 

We all had different reasons that "Believe" worked for us. I love our tattoo for many reasons. 

 

Mostly because I believe.



Three Years

Honestly, I'm too tired to write.  I have been running around all weekend because I have a serious case of "the busy".  Once radiation starts, I'm going to listen to my body and heaven forbid, say no a little more often.  (I was one of the first to leave all of the parties we attended over the weekend-hey, it's a start!)

Even though I'm tired, I don't want today to go by without noting the importance.  Today is the anniversary of my dad's death.  Three years ago we prayed for him to leave us; to stop fighting and to rest.  We promised him that we would be ok and we would love him always.

Since that day, so many things have happened to remind me that he's still here with me. 

My monsters are the ones that remind me most often.  Almost every day one of them does or says something that triggers a thought of my dad.  They all still ask about him regularly.  I think they all still associate cancer with dying.  Keegan hasn't quite grasped things that are inappropriate to say out loud and each night when I tuck him in he tells me:  Mommy, I love you forever...even if you die.

Last night at dinner I made them all take three bites of Shepard's pie.  Keegan had tears STREAMING down his face.  He would not swallow it.  I laughed the entire time.  I was thinking about the MANY meals around the same kitchen table at my Granny's house.  I used to gag and cry and everyone would get so mad at my Dad that he was forcing me to eat CREAM CORN-BLEH!!  In my defense, I only make my monsters take two/three bites and would NEVER make them eat cream corn!! ;)

You know, when I woke up in the middle of the night, I knew that I had cancer.  Someone woke me up to tell me.  I know that he's watching over me.  Always.

A couple months ago I went to a spiritual retreat and a sister (that I have never met) asked me if my father was still alive, I could feel it.  She wanted to know because she felt called to tell me that he was still here and that he loves me.  She continued praying for me and asked me to relay the message to my mom who was really struggling with my diagnosis and overwhelmed with life at this point.  Yes, mom, I asked the Princess Posse to pray for you.  They're really fierce in their prayers so I didn't think you'd mind;)  Dad's still protecting us, Mom.

Or when it's not my story to share happens.  Times like today that I know that you woke me up for a reason: to help protect others that we both love.  Let them know you're looking out for them today, too. 


Today is full of emotion and our family could use a few extra prayers if you could spare them.

October is a difficult month for me.  I want to wear black, not pink.  I want to shut down, not party.

Three years later and I still want to call you when mom's making me mad. Or when our car decides to take a crap (yes, we're down to one car right now:/). Or when I speak at the Toledo Club to raise awareness about the stupid gene our family carries because it's important to give back! Or when I'm bursting with pride when one of the kids does something amazing (which happens all the time;)).

I miss you so much, but I know in my heart that you're watching over us; doing the best to protect us and help us whenever you can.

I do wish you could be the bad guy instead of me to make the monsters EAT THEIR PEAS!!



I love you, Dad!  As always, Daddy's Girl,

This little princess still sleeps with Mr. Ugly Bear every. single.night. We all miss you, Pipi.

 

Guest Post: It's Just a Game

Daren Cable is a community member that I've only just recently met in person.  I've known his wife for many years (she makes cool jewerly, ornamanents, pottery, and lots of other goodies), but I have only heard rumors about this Daren guy until a couple months ago.  Unlike MOST some rumors that spread around our small community, the ones about this guy were all AMAZING!! "He's building a program that people are excited about.  The kids want to play hard and the parents are cheering loudly."  The biggest compliment I can give him is that I wish they had a monster Keegan's age so that he would be Keegan's coach! 

You can follow the little cats here: https://www.facebook.com/WoodmoreLittleCatsFootball

It’s Just a Game

I am a coach.  I have been a coach for several years.  I started out coaching soccer, then baseball, and now for the last several years, youth football.  I absolutely love youth sports.  Kids can learn things through sports that they simply cannot learn in a classroom.  I try to do all the right things and I try to teach my assistant coaches to do the same.  All the kids play in every game, we keep it positive, we are polite to the refs and the other team, etc, etc, etc…..I’m sure myself and my coaches could do a better job, but we really do try to do the right things and set a good example.

I also try to remind our coaches, parents and players that it is only a game.  Yes, it’s true, we won’t be playing for a World Championship in youth football at the end of the year.  Our lives do not depend on it and we won’t lose our jobs or houses if we don’t have a winning season.  It is only a game.

Sometimes I wonder if people forget this simple fact; football, soccer, baseball, basketball…..they are all games, period.

I realize this may be a hard concept to grasp, so let me give some examples.

The first couple weeks of our practices in the summer, we have practice on Wednesday evenings.  Once school starts, we take Wednesday evenings off.  I learned long ago that some 6^th graders have catechism on Wednesday evening once school starts so we don’t practice on that night.  This year, during the first week of the season, I had a couple of parents tell me their kids would miss practice on Wednesday, because they had to go to church.  No problem I said, God is more important than football.  "Will they be punished?" they asked.  I was surprised by this question.  No, they will not be punished.  They won’t have to run, they won’t miss out on playing time, they simply won’t be punished.  God is more important than football.  It sounds like an easy answer, but just the fact that they asked, tells me that other coaches do punish kids for missing practice to go to church. Seems sort of silly to me.

A couple of weeks later,  a dad sent me an email.  It read something like this:  Every year for as long as I can remember, I have went on a fishing trip in Michigan. It is an annual tradition and something I really look forward to.  For the last few years, I have told my son that when he turns 10, he can go along.  So this is something he and I have looked forward to for quite some time.  I intentionally scheduled the trip this year around the football schedule, but when the non-league game against Sandusky was added, it fell on the weekend we had planned to go fishing.  I completely understand if you want him at the game and if so we will cancel the trip.  It is your decision coach, and we will support it either way, I'm just asking if it would be ok for him to miss the game.  No problem I said, family is more important than football.  "Will he be punished?" the dad asked.  No, he will not be punished.  He won’t have to run and he won’t miss out on playing time in next weeks game.  Family time is more important than football. 

Toward the end of the season, I had a mom call me.  She said, “My son is really struggling with math.  It is his hardest subject and he is trying really hard, but he needs to miss some practices to keep up with the work.”  No problem I said, school is more important than football.  "Will he be punished or miss game time".  No, he will not be punished.  It seems crazy to punish a kid for doing math doesn't it.
 

When I read my examples above, it seems like common sense.  But here’s an example from the other side. 

A friend of mine has a daughter who plays a high school sport. She also does well in school.  Over several months she progressed through an academic competition, sponsored by her school. She advanced through districts, regionals and state.  She made it to the national competition in this academic area.  This is a BIG deal.  She traveled across the country to compete and she ended up placing third in the NATION.  Awesome.  But when she returned she had to sit out two games in her sport because she missed two practices?  For academics!?!?! 

God, family and school are more important than football.  Sounds crazy doesn't it?  But you know what; I will not punish a kid for missing football for those reasons.  If it is abused, yes, there will be consequences.  Going down to play in the river with your brother instead of going to football practice?  That is unacceptable.  You get my point. 

Most of us at some point lose sight of the fact that we are just playing a game.  Yes, there are life lessons to be taught and learned while playing football, and other sports, and I believe there are things that you learn from sports that you cannot learn in a classroom.  BUT, it is just a game. 

Think about this, think about how much time you and your son or daughter have spent over the last year playing and preparing to play sports.  Not just football, but baseball, basketball, wrestling, soccer, cheerleading, volleyball, etc….  the list goes on and on.  Practices, games, camps, more camps, spring, summer, fall, winter.....

Is it really just a game? Or has it become more? Has it become too much??? 

Maybe I am wrong, maybe it’s not just a game, maybe I should check the facts…..

I work for a large corporation that hires hundreds of people every year.  I asked our HR Manager how many people we hired last year because they were a good football player.  ZERO!

I did some research on academic scholarships verses athletic scholarships.  On average, 1 billion dollars are handed out each year for athletic scholarships verses 9.5 billion dollars for academic scholarships.  Over 9 times more money given out for good grades!! 

I looked up the statistics on how the United States of America stands up against other countries, not in football, but in academics.  We ranked 25^th out of the 34 countries measured in math, and 17^th in science.  Ouch! Not good. 
 

Maybe I was wrong.  Maybe we do need to spend more time playing football. (Sarcasm, sorry.)  

I'm not proposing we quit playing football and other youth sports, because as I said in the beginning, I believe there are things that you learn from sports that you cannot learn in a classroom.  It is a good experience.  BUT, it is just a game. 

Just imagine, if we cut back just a little bit. Don't stop it, just cut back. And spend that time doing some extra homework, or sitting in the living room just talking with your kids, or going to church, or helping a family in need.  Imagine the difference we could make. 

I am merely asking you to think about it, and do me a favor.  Sometime this year, one time, just say no.  If you are a coach, cancel a practice, or if you are a parent, decide not to send your kid to that extra camp.  Just say no, and spend that time with your kids, doing something as a family, or working on math, or going to church.  It will make a difference.  And if anyone asks you why, tell them, "it is just a game".

 

  

 



Ephphatha

I can only imagine being a deaf and mute person in biblical times.  I assume people would stare at you blankly when you didn't respond to them during conversation.  I doubt you would have many friends.  How could you hold down a job?  They didn't have hearing aids or computers that were able to talk for them back then. Communication is such a huge part of life and relationships; the life of a deaf and mute person would be difficult today, let alone in those days.

Imagine how that man must have felt when Jesus healed him!  Ephphatha!  Be opened!! Suddenly, you could speak freely and hear clearly!  You would automatically believe the healer was the Savior and be opened to His word...even if He did spit on his hand and touch your tongue;)

Recently, I've landed myself in the middle.  I try to avoid the middle, but it's not the first time I've been here and I'm sure it's not the last.   Sometimes I'm stuck directly in the middle right inside my very own head!  But when I'm here, I feel tongue tied and twisted. A little like the deaf and mute man might have felt until he was healed.

I know that if I'm going to live in the middle I have to keep my opinions to myself.  Struggle with the thoughts that are dancing around in my mind until I can clear the cobwebs.  I've learned this lesson the hard way...again.  When my emotions are not in check, the words often seem to rhyme even when they are wrong.

I changed my name, but I'll always be a Runion.  You know, act first, apologize later. This is why, as I grow older, I generally steer clear of emotional topics, political debates, or taking a stance publicly. 

I stay away from the emotional topics because I believe that generally people are good.  I believe that most people want what is right; what is just.  Maybe we don't understand what others are fighting for, what battle is tucked safely, deep down in their heart that is causing actions and reactions? Perhaps the emotional string that a friend or foe clings to so very tightly is protected with armor because they will unravel if you start pulling at the string.


Wouldn't it be AMAZING if right when we were in the middle of an argument heated discussion (you know, right before you slam the door and stomp off-Yes, I totally still do this), we could scream: EPHPHATHA!  The person we are fighting discussing with could then look into our heart and understand. You know, what certain emotions are tied to, why a certain belief is so strong and close to their heart, why you feel so strongly one way or the other.

Or when you make a decision, right or wrong, and it hurts a person you love.  Wouldn't it be great to scream EPHPHATHA and let them see that the decision was not made to hurt them or cause them harm.  Certainly, they might still be hurt, but they could see that you made the decision with love.

Maybe even when Keegan has 10 dry days and then a day where he has three accidents in one day.  I could  lovingly see into his heart and know what he was thinking and why he didn't walk his cute little white behind into the restroom.  He could see into my heart and understand my frustration.  We could work together at the problem instead of fighting against each other. He would no longer feel guilt/shame/outcast when he had an accident and I would no longer feel anger/frustration when I noticed because we could see into each others hearts.

And  what if we forgot to scream it from the rooftops when were in the middle of the discussion? Perhaps we could grab our microphone and amplify our apology: EPHPHATHA! I am sorry.  Be opened. 

Wouldn't that be amazing?

His word offers this!

Ephphatha! BE OPENED.

Be opened! 

Open your eyes and your ears.  Open your heart.  Over and over again, be opened.

I can only dream of how many people I could bring to their knees if I could scream EPHIPHATHA when they ask if I chose to cut my hair like this or look at me with pity.

Be Opened to His promises, to His forgiveness, to His Grace.

Mark 7:31-37

New International Version (NIV)

Jesus Heals a Deaf and Mute Man

³¹ Then Jesus left the vicinity of Tyre and went through Sidon, down to the Sea of Galilee and into the region of the Decapolis.^{[a] 32} There some people brought to him a man who was deaf and could hardly talk, and they begged Jesus to place his hand on him.
³³ After he took him aside, away from the crowd, Jesus put his fingers into the man’s ears. Then he spit and touched the man’s tongue. ³⁴ He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, “Ephphatha!” (which means “Be opened!”). ³⁵ At this, the man’s ears were opened, his tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly.
³⁶ Jesus commanded them not to tell anyone. But the more he did so, the more they kept talking about it. ³⁷ People were overwhelmed with amazement. “He has done everything well,” they said. “He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.”