Four Years Ago

Four years ago I was on the other side of the world, in the city of Kragujevac, Serbia. 

It is the day I was allowed to take this little man out of foster care!

It was a day of many sad goodbyes.

Goodbye to a family who had loved and cared for him for 2 1/2 years.

Goodbye to the foods he had always known.

Goodbye to the language he understood.

Goodbye to a life as one of "the have nots".

There were good goodbyes too!

Goodbye to being hidden away.

Goodbye to being forgotten and devalued.

I was a new mom again, and had no idea the wild ride ahead of me!

You can read the details about that day here. 

26 Years

On this night 26 years ago my then-husband, K. and I walked around the Christmas Tree lot, my ginormous pregnant belly leading the way as I balanced 15 month old Noah on my hip. December 2nd was my due date, and I knew if we didn't get the tree up that night it might not happen at all.

It was 1988 and I was 21 years old. We lived in this cute little house. (it was white with red trim in 1988) Imagine it buried under 2 feet of snow.

We put the tree into the bed of the old Ford pickup truck. It was such a cold night that night, the snow crunching under our feet as we hurried into the house. My husband wanted to let the tree stand outside overnight but I was insistent. It HAD to get put up inside. Tonight!

We got it centered in the tree stand and situated in our tiny living room. My husband sat down on the couch to rest and promptly fell asleep. I got Noah into his PJs and tucked into his new big boy bed, stopping in the baby's room to look into the empty crib. I put my hand on my belly, knowing very soon that heavenly baby smell would be filling the  room. I climbed the stairs to our attic and started carrying all the Christmas boxes to the living room. Up and down the stairs I went, box after box.

I checked all the tree lights and strung them on the tree, stopping now and then to stretch my aching back, taking inventory of what was left to do. One hour, two hours…three. Around midnight I declared the house decorated and lugged the now empty boxes back up the stairs and gave them a shove into the attic. Finally, I turned off all the lights and sat on the couch admiring the beautiful tree and the Christmas season ahead of us. It was then that I realized how badly my back ached, and that I was exhausted. I thought of all that was ahead of us.

I struggled to get my pregnant self off the couch and woke my husband to come to bed. I knew we'd be having a baby soon.

At 4:30 a.m. I was woken by a very STRONG contraction. Wow! I got up to go to the bathroom but had another contraction before I got there. I went back to bed to watch the clock. 90 seconds later I had another contraction. RUH ROH! My husband had already left for is early shift job. I picked up the phone to call him, "Uh, you better come home quick!"

"What? I just walked in the door 30 seconds ago. Ok, I'll be right there!"

Thankfully he only worked a few blocks away. So, too, were his parents. I called his mom to let her know we'd be over in a few minutes with Noah. My husband walked in the door while I was trying to tie my shoes. He grabbed Noah and the already packed diaper bag and headed for the car. He was moving about 30 times faster than me. By the time I got to the back door he was gone.

 GONE????

I called my mom. "Well, this should be interesting. He left without me." I wasn't sure what to do. I called his mom. "Is K. there yet?"

"He just pulled in the driveway. I'll run out and get Noah from him and send him back right away."

My contractions were coming consistently between 1 1/2 - 2 minutes and they were very strong. I wanted to sit down but was really afraid if I did I wouldn't get up, but have the baby right there instead. A few minutes later my husband pulled in honking his horn. I'm sure the neighbors loved that at 5:00 a.m.!

It only took us 15 minutes or so to arrive at the hospital. They put me on a monitor and checked my cervix. I was not even one full centimeter dilated! HOW could that BE???? UGH! I was so afraid they would send me home but the monitor showed my contractions to be very strong so they kept me. A few minutes later the doctor came in to check me again and I was at 4 cm so he broke my water. The very next contraction I told the nurse I felt like pushing. Her response? "Oh you do NOT! We *just* checked you and you were only at 4. Have a few more contractions and quit panicking."

Oh I was mad. The very next contraction I told my husband to call that nurse back to my room. "You better check me now because I am going to PUSH DAMMIT!" She wasn't happy with me. She was very rough when she went to check me, then started verbally back pedaling. "Oh wow! You're at TEN!!! The doctor LEFT the hospital!"

That movie-like flurry of activity happened and the next thing I knew it was 5:58 and I had a screaming 8 lb 10oz baby boy laying on my belly.

Raising Tyler wasn't always an easy job, but he sure made it fun!

Today Tyler is 26 years old. He is going to school and living his life. But he is THE BEST big brother to the 5 A's. He frequently helps us out on the weekends, and while I was going through chemo he was often here getting things done that I couldn't physically do.

For 26 years I have been his mother. You make me proud, Tyler!

4 months PFC

PFC = Post Final Chemo

My hair is the strangest color! It is really salt and pepper, but the color changes depending upon the lighting. If I'm in the shadows it is black. If the light is shining on it, it is silver. It is not silver tipped. The silver hairs are silver the entire length. The only thing I don't like is the fact its growing into a faux hawk. Yes, people pay to have that hairstyle, which I happen to think is dumb. Its not something I would choose for myself. LOL I'm anxious for it to get a little longer so it lays down.

One good thing though is I have significantly more hair than I did before chemo!

His name is Asher: 3 years home

With the first step through the doors the familiar smell of the institution assaults my nose, the heavy odor of cooking smells overwhelming me. Five of us squeeze into the tiny elevator as I try to suppress the urge to point out it was only built for two, maybe three people.  It is a finicky elevator, and although it is new sometimes you have to jump a little bit to make it go. We arrive on the second floor and the social worker pushes open the manual door, all of us spilling out into the hallway as the wails of a child are heard from far off in the building. 

The head psychologist leads us down the hallway where three toddlers are sitting at a tiny table eating their lunch. She points to the child who's back is to me, his shaved head and tiny shoulders hunched over the plate of mush in front of him. 

"This is Lazar" she says as she touches his shoulder. 

The boy freezes, his spoonful of food halfway to his mouth. After a second he grunts, putting the spoon  in his mouth. He continues to eat.

Quietly I move to his side, kneeling beside the table next to him I put my hand on his shoulder. "Hello Lazo." I say in a quiet voice. His eyes never leave his plate as he pulls it closer to him, protecting it in case I should try taking it away. I feel a tear run down my cheek as I realize this tiny toddler, who appears to be two or three years old is really my seven year old son.

A minute later he is done eating. I gently use his towel-bib to wipe his face then offer my hand for him to hold. He willingly wraps his tiny fingers around my index finger, toddling alongside me down the hallway to the playroom. It is here I can finally get a good look at him. He releases my finger and moves into the room, quickly grabbing a toy to dangle. He looks at me warily, hiding behind his arm, his face expressionless and his eyes glassy. He stares off into the distance. At nothing.

When the psychologist says something to him his only response is to freeze and make a tiny grunting sound. 

Blank. I have never seen a child so void of expression.

"What do you think?" the social worker asks. "Do you accept this child? Does he meet your expectations?"

"Yes." I say.  "Yes this is my son."

And we called him Asher.

Over the next 10 days I learn all I can about him. He has only recently started to walk. He is extremely underweight. He is so very hard to reach.

But slowly….

Ever so slowly…

he comes to life.

Three years ago today I laid eyes upon my son for the very first time. This child who was lost within the walls of a Serbian institution found his way into our lives and hearts. This child who was so painfully afraid of the world,

now wanting to see,

to do

touch

climb

to try.

Papa is the favorite around here, but Asher is Mama's boy. So affectionate and loving. Eager to see the world and all the wonders it holds for him. Every day, as I watch my son so full of joy and wonder, I thank God for allowing us this precious gift.

Genesis 30:13 And Leah said, "Happy am I, for the daughters will call me blessed: and she called him Asher.

Deuteronomy 33:24 About Asher he said: "Most blessed of sons is Asher; let him be favored by his brothers, and let him bathe his feet in oil."

Not just a boob job

So many people are of the mistaken impression that having breast reconstruction is a good way to have a breast augmentation (aka a "boob job") covered by health insurance. What people don't realize is that reconstructed breasts are not the same as augmented breasts, and that having their breasts reconstructed is a nightmare for most women.

We didn't WANT this! We don't want the scars. We don't want the pain. We don't want what often ends up being multiple surgeries, and the scars they leave behind, in the hopes we will someday look normal. We have cancer to thank for that.

If you are interested in purchasing the tshirt pictured above, please follow this link! 

Three years

Three years ago I boarded a plane for Belgrade, Serbia. I was so very anxious to meet our newest son!

Lets Not Talk About It

I can talk about a lot of things.

I can talk about nipples, I can talk about breasts.

I can talk about surgeries and implants and tissue expanders.

But, it makes my knees weak to hear someone describe in detail how a reconstructed nipple is formed (cut an "s" shape, twist those pieces around and sew them together) or how incisions are made and breast implants or expanders inserted.

When my plastic surgeon says things like, "I need you to be size x so that I have enough skin to cover a size X implant". No. I am sorry. I cannot hear that. I cannot hear how you are going to stretch my skin and the types of sutures you will use to put it all back together.

Don't think you can do anything to me under light sedation "just enough to relax you" because I do not want to hear noises, feel tugging or other sensations, or anything else that there is even a slight chance I will remember. Just knock me out and get it over with. I don't need the details.

When you come here and don't want to read the details, just hit that little X up in the corner, OK? 

Just a Bra

Today I am doing some much necessary cleaning; things that haven't been done in months but now that I'm feeling so much better its time to get them done. Besides, we're having people over tomorrow night so its a good motivator.

I can't believe the pile of clothes, shopping bags and just odds and ends of life that have accumulated in this corner of our bedroom. I started sorting everything into piles, getting distracted here and there by my finds.

And then I found the bra.

I haven't worn a bra in two months. Not only do I not have breasts, but even if I did, I couldn't wear a bra if I wanted. I have these rolls of extra skin and fat under my arms, left over skin that used to cover breast tissue and lymph nodes. In the breast cancer community these flaps of skin are referred to as "mud flaps". As my tissue expanders are filled some of that skin will be pulled forward, the rest will be removed at the time of my final surgery. They are very uncomfortable and awkward, and they make certain clothing, like bras, impossible for me to wear.

I never liked wearing a bra. In fact, I would buy clothes that allowed me to get away with not wearing one just so I could be more comfortable. But today, this bra, has brought me to tears for the first time in months. It is a symbol of how my life has changed since cancer.

On the outside I may seem like the old me, but on the inside…on the inside I am a very different person. I am battered and bruised. My mind and spirit are scarred. But, like a good make up artist, I can hide my scars from the rest of the world, for the most part living my life like I used to. But that one day that I stumble upon a bra I used to wear can bring me to sobbing tears in the middle of my bedroom floor.

Good morning parents! Its BUS time!

Excuse me while I step onto my soapbox for a few minutes.  Note: This post is in reference to special ed. transportation. If you don't have a kid in special ed, this transportation works differently than regular ed transportation. Buses usually go right to a kid's driveway, and they wait for a few minutes if the kid is not there on time.

Guess what? School started 2 1/2 months ago. We're in a routine. We know the times for everything, including what time the bus comes. We are not perfect parents, by any means, but one thing we are, is ON TIME for the freaking bus!  We have five kids to get ready and four buses coming to our house every morning, and every morning each of our kids is waiting for the bus ON TIME. Every day. It has been no less than 5 years since anyone in this house missed a bus, and that was when we had only one kid here.

The bus drivers are required to be at the bus garage 30 minutes before starting their routes, and the entire fleet pulls out of the lot in the same order, at the same time, every morning.

But at least three days a week our buses are late - x 4 buses - because other people can't get their kids out the door on time. Guess what! Maybe you need to start your morning routine earlier? While you are rushing your kid around, scrambling to throw on their winter gear while the bus is already at your driveway, other people's kids are standing at their designated bus stops in the cold. They were on time. You are not.

I have dealt with lots of behavior stuff in the past, particularly with Angela, that centered around the anxiety of having that dang bus come to the house. For two years we opted to drive her instead, removing the anxiety completely. That worked great for her, and she still arrived to school on time. Sometimes we pulled into the school lot at the same time as the bus she would have ridden. Part of my reason for doing that was it is not considerate of the bus driver or all the other kids on the bus - or the parents who got them there - when they're sitting waiting for my kid every day. So we opted to drive her instead.

So here we are, another morning standing in the cold and snow waiting for a bus that is almost 15 minutes late because the same parents are late….again…. Once in awhile its not a big deal, but EVERY SINGLE DAY???? Umm no. Get up earlier, get your kid ready earlier, and get yourself to the bus on time like everyone else does.

End of rant. I will now take my superior ass to Abel's bus, the one where HE is the problem child and the other parents are mad at us.

Here Comes Winter

Sunday night:
We live in Minnesota, land of 10,000 lakes and a lot of cold. Last year we, along with the rest of the country, put up with the Polar Vortex multiple times (would that be Polar Vorti?) making it one of our coldest, and longest, winters on record.

For the last several days there have been rumblings of a big winter storm coming. Its a little early for this type of storm, but most of us remember THE BIG ONE of Halloween, 1991. It brought with it weeks of dealing with washboard roads and general mess.

This morning we woke up to this headline

A headline like this causes mothers - ok, maybe a few dads - to move into panic mode. Its time to hunker down!!!

Are there groceries on hand?

Where is all the winter gear? Does everyone have boots? Snowpants? WHERE are all the snowpants?

OMG where are the snow pants?????

Is the snowblower running and is there gas for it?

This kind of preparation was not on my agenda for today. I had planned on getting all laundry and the kids' bedding cleaned and their rooms thoroughly cleaned. Dean is sick so he would be trying to get some rest. (this ended up not working so well.)

I ran around here like a semi-organized maniac all day. First, got Audrey's laundry going. (thats 2 loads) Next into the washer was a whole load of hats, gloves and mittens that needed to be cleaned. While those were going Tyler got everyone outside for some fresh air and I made a trip to Costo to stock up on a few things. I needed to get boots for Abel (which they didn't have) and winter coat and snowpants for Audrey.

When I came home I focused on the girls' bedroom, getting all their bedding, including comforters washed and dried. (three more loads) I went through their collection of jackets and packed away all the light-weight, off season things so Audrey stops dragging them around the house. Angela helped me clean up Audrey's toys and get the room vacuumed.

Next was a load of 5 winter coats and 4 pr snow pants that needed to be washed. When that was done Axel's laundry went in. As I type Asher's clothes are in the wash.

Have you kept tally on the loads of laundry? That's NINE loads of laundry I've done today! I still have about six more to go since so much time was spent doing bedding and winter gear. Normally I do laundry throughout the week but with my surgical incisions my mobility has been limited. Everything is so far behind so I'm busting butt trying to get caught up.

Dean and Tyler moved the motorcycles around to get the snowblower to the front where it is easily accessible.

At least I know all the kids will be appropriately dressed for the weather that is threatening. Ok, maybe not Abel.

Monday morning: Welcome to winter! The snow arrived around midnight last night and we expect to get around 10 inches in our area. The kids are all wound up because they may end up coming home early today. I hate the snow that arrived so early. It is going to make our winter soooo much longer.

School Pics

We finally have everyone's school pictures back! With a couple of retakes they turned to great this year. Audrey? Yeah, she is the happiest girl I know…until a camera comes out! You will notice three of the kids are wearing coordinated colors. This was a weak attempt to have coordinating pictures on the wall.  Of course when Axel's picture day rolled around I couldn't find his matching shirt. That's just how we roll around here!

Audrey 1st grade, age 10

Axel 7th grade, age 14

Abel 5th grade, age 11

Asher, 2nd grade, age 10

And of course Angela, 12th grade, age 18

November Thankful 1

I am so very thankful for the most amazing man ever. Every single day since I was diagnosed, Dean has said or done something special  that shows me how important I am to him. He doesn't have to try, it just comes naturally to him. This last seven months have been the most difficult of my life but God gave me Dean to help get me through, to get our family through. For this, I am thankful. 

Awake!

This post courtesy of Norco (pain meds) so I claim no responsibility for errors or inappropriate content.

If you are ever visiting with me in person, and I offer to show you my boobs, don't freak out. They're no different to me than my knees now. I forget that is not the case for whomever I speaking with! LOL

First I had an important meeting in the morning, then race home to get Dean.

We arrived at the surgery center exactly on time, check in took just a second and we were brought back to the pre-op area. The nurse came in to do her things and go over the list of things I was scheduled for. She got to "bilateral nipple removal" and I said. "I've decided to keep them for now."

Then my surgeon came in. She told me the fluid she aspirated from my right breast last week came back with infection and they cultured it to make sure they're treating it with the right antibiotics. However, because we're now opening that area it is very possible I will develop much more significant infection so I will need to make weekly visits until I'm past the risk period.

Then I told her I decided to keep my nipples. She was ok with it, however she pointed out the problems with my left nipple - the one that pointed west - and why she thinks it will be a problem when I have my exchange surgery in a few months. So, with that, I said goodbye to my nipples yesterday.

In surgery she first started on my left breast to avoid spreading infection from the other side. She cleaned up a LOT of scar tissue. She also ended up replacing the tissue expander on that side as a precautionary measure due to infection risk. She also removed the nipple.

On the right side there was even more scar tissue than the left, which is what pulled the tissue expander  over under my arm. She drained a lot of fluid out, removed the nipple and replaced the expander.

After surgery I was in A LOT of pain. A 9 or 10. They gave me another boost in my IV to get me home (this was an outpatient procedure) but ti didn't really cut it. My doctor came to check on me and offered to send me over to the hospital because my pain level was too high. After discussion with Dean (because I was not clear headed) she gave me a written script for some really strong stuff and bump though my IV to get home. Unfortunately there were problems filling that script and my pain level was climbing. Eventually we got it sorted out and I was able to sleep the whole night.

This morning I'm feeling much better. Pain level is very tolerable and I just took my next dose of meds. My range of motion is already better than it was before surgery! All that scar tissue was causing a lot of problems. But today I can raise my arms over my head, and the "iron bra" sensation is gone. Well, at least I'm not noticing it with pain meds on board.

In the end, this surgery was not only necessary because of the infection and ruptured expander, but so very much a relief getting all that scar tissue removed.

I have to add a HUGE thank you to our friend Roc! She got all our kids off buses, made dinner and generally did an excellent job of keeping the kids occupied. Thanks so much Roc!!!

Here we go again

Tomorrow I get to have have surgery again. Yay me! (said dripping with sarcasm)

Two weeks ago I went in for fills to my tissue expanders. My plastic surgeon noted that my right expander had shifted some and I also had a seroma.  While she was able to add 50cc to the expander, she also drew off almost that much from the seroma.

One week ago today I noticed the incision line on that side, which was well healed, was starting to look different. Several years ago Angela had a series of surgeries and infections, and I recognized that my scar line was doing the same thing. It was getting slightly wider, had changed color just a tiny bit, and I could see very small patches of yellow behind it. Yellow is fluid collecting.

On Weds last week I went in for a fill but knew I wouldn't be getting one. My surgeon took one look at my right side and declared a problem. She tried to pull fluid out of the tissue expander but there was nothing when there should have been about 175 cc. The expander has ruptured. The seroma is also quite large now.

We tried to get surgery scheduled for Friday last week but we just couldn't get it done. Instead I'll be having surgery tomorrow (Monday) morning I'll be having surgery to 1) remove and replace the ruptured expander 2) clean up all the tissues 3) remove some of the scar tissue that is causing me to have very limited range of motion on that side. We discussed also removing my nipples since she'll be there anyway. I had said I wanted to do it, and then I changed my mind about 500 times since then. I will have another surgery sometime in February to exchange my expanders for implants so I might just wait until that time.

I'm very anxious for tomorrow's surgery. The tissue expander is now all the way under my arm with a large collection of fluid. The bulge is about the size of a softball. I've been extremely uncomfortable and unable to sleep. Time to get this fixed! 

First Day of School 2014

I know, we're two months into school. You'll cut me some slack this year, right?

Angela didn't get her pictures taken on this morning. She was in too much of a hurry to get out the door. She loves school!

Axel, aka "Joe Cool"

is a big 7th grader this year.

Abel. I have no idea why his glasses are all crooked. 

He's a 5th grader this year.

Asher, always hamming it up for the camera!

Ash is a 10 year old 2nd grader.

These two are pretty good buddies!

Dad takes the kids to their respective buses every morning, 

watching to make sure even those who are "independent" 

at the bus stop remain safe. 

Audrey didn't actually start school the same day as the other kids, 

but she took her place at the picture spot anyway.

I'm not really sure why, since she seems to hate the camera! 

After about 25 times I started singing my "Mom is going crazy" song.

Audrey loves music. If only I had thought to sing sooner! 

When she did start school, it was as a

10  year old 1st grader. 

Here we are at the end of October.  We've had a few challenges, and one change of school, but I think we're on the right track for everyone! 

Here's to the 2014-2015 school year

They're just words

The words of my life:

Cancer
Down syndrome
cricopharyngeal Achalasia
stroke
epilepsy
narcolepsy
trauma
seroma
breasts
gastrostomy tube
PTSD
RAD
side effects
inframammary fold
tissue expanders
implants
chemotherapy
mammogram
MRI
PET scan

Twenty words or terms that carry so much weight, at various points of my life dictating daily activities. While these words have certainly been the roots and stones causing me to trip along life's path, they certainly do not dictate my direction.

As I encounter each of these obstacles I am reminded that God allows for life's lessons and learning to happen. It is my job to pay attention to what He is showing me. There are some lessons I will recognize in the moment, others that will take years and come to me in an "Ah ha!" moment. I am sure there will be plenty of lessons I struggle to recognize. In my head exists a list, and on the day I stand before the Lord I will whip out that list and say, "Umm God? Ok, you know that one day when I was standing in line at the grocery store and…? So yeah…Umm ...What exactly was the purpose of that little incident?"

What are the words of your life that cause you to trip and stumble?

Senior Picture Time!

I cannot believe that Angela is a Senior this year. It has been amazing to me watching all of my kids grow up, but I won't lie, watching Angela has been extra special. From a tiny 4 lb baby who wasn't supposed to survive to the beautiful young lady I get the pleasure of hanging out with every day! Thanks so much to Patty Zweifel Photography for taking such beautiful pictures of our girl!

Enough of that, on to pictures!

This is the one we chose for the yearbook

Where have they been?

It happens all the time.

Everywhere we go people know her.

They're usually in crowds.

"Hi Angela!"

"Oh my God! Angela!" followed by their fake teenage girl hugs.

Girls I have never met. Pretty girls. Popular girls.

Girls who have never picked up the phone to call, or invited to a movie give my child hugs.

I stand by silent.

The same conversations have been happening with their parents for years. It happened again today at school conferences. Twice, in five minutes, almost identical conversations.

"Oh, you must be Angela! My daughter talks about you all the time! She just adores you. She says you're one of her best friends."

The first time we said our pleasantries and walked away. I turned my attention to papers in my hand, refusing to be annoyed.

The second time I stood. Still. I looked the mom in the eye. The words screamed in my head.

"Really? She talks about Angela all the time? Have you ever asked her why you've never met this girl? Don't "best friends" do things together outside of school? Have you thought to encourage your daughter to do things with my daughter since they're "best friends"? Please don't patronize my daughter. Please don't let your daughter patronize mine."

The words pounded against my clenched teeth and pursed lips as the mothers continued their conversations with Angela. I kept them there. To myself.

They don't know. They can't know how my child hurts. Do those friends think she doesn't see? That she doesn't hear? I was told today that Angela knows every home or away game the football team plays, even though she hasn't been to a game in two years because who wants to go to a game with their mom? She knows who won, who lost. She knows who the popular players are. She knows all the cheerleaders. She pays attention to all of it. She pays attention to who is dating who. She knows everyone. She wants nothing more than to be part of them.

She knows when she is left out.

She knows all of it.

Tissue Expander Fill

Today was the first of what will be many fills to my tissue expanders. If you're on my Facebook you know by my status this morning I was having a lot of anxiety in anticipation of this event! I'm still in a fair amount of pain with occasional severe shooting pains. Those shooting pains happen when the implants rub up against a rib or muscle. I just couldn't imagine adding more pain to what I already have.

Here is what the tissue expanders look like. The backside is hard plastic. The black circle is the port where the needle is inserted to add fluid.

This picture illustrates how the implants are placed in the chest behind the muscle. You can see how the plastic edges would rub against the ribs.

Here is what the fill process looks like. As you can see, this woman is nearly finished with the fill process.

I am happy to say I had myself all worked up over nothing! Because the skin on my chest has absolutely no sensation, I didn't feel the needle stick at all. The doctor put in 150 cc of fluid and all I felt was a slight tugging sensation on my chest. She was only able to fill one side. The other side is still draining a bit and has a lot of swelling so it will wait until next week. I was told by tonight I will be sore and may have some muscle spasms so I took a muscle relaxer right away. So far tonight I'm a bit sore but nothing like I expected.

And then I came home and did something I haven't done in a month. I went to take a nap, and sorta kinda laid ON MY SIDE! YAY ME!

Thanking God for this small break!

Next week: Fill number 2, and a step closer to done!

Perspective

I have so many things I want to tell you. I would even be willing to post pictures just to give you a bit of perspective, but that might be taking things a bit too far.

So, I will tell you this:

If you are having a really bad day, and you feel like the world is ganging up on you, I want you to look down and take a peek inside your shirt. See down there? See your breasts? (and this includes men!) Do you see your nipples? Are they still attached? If you nipples are still firmly attached, and they are not threatening to FALL OFF, then tell yourself, "Things could always be worse. I still have nipples."

And "worse" is a relative term. I am still walking, talking and breathing. Breasts are not what keep me alive, but they are part of my fight at the moment so that's where I am. I'm about ready to stop fighting for my nipples in my quest for pain free days.

And that, my friends, is your bit of breast cancer awareness for today. 

Awareness Month: Down syndrome

My previous post was about breast cancer awareness. I am reminded of the existence of breast cancer every day. I try, though not always successfully, to not let breast cancer rule my life. Because every morning I look around the breakfast table at 5 sets of eyes who greet me with smiles no matter how crappy I feel due to my treatments. Every morning I get a hug from each of these 5 kids. We go through our morning routine, I give them a hug and send them off to school just like I have been doing with my kids for 28 years now.

I often have to remind myself these kids have Down syndrome. 

The eyes of my kids are captivating. They each hold a story with details I will never know 100%. I cannot know what it is like to have Down syndrome.  I DO know that every day my kids' lives are filled with the same experiences as their same-age peers. They have friends, they have spats with friends, they have a love/hate relationship with their siblings, they have foods they like or dislike. They live life to the fullest just like every child their age.

Our kids with Down syndrome are just as amazing as our other kids.

Awareness month: Breast cancer

It is October 2014. It is Down syndrome awareness month and it is also Breast Cancer Awareness month. Where do I start????

Lets start with Breast cancer this year, shall we? We all know that breast cancer exists! Every month is breast cancer awareness month. Ever day when I look in the mirror, or take a shower, or glance down, I am reminded how breast cancer has affected not only me, but my entire family. There is no escaping it. But, that doesn't mean I buy into pink.  Some yes, some no. Yes, the pink ribbon has become the symbol for breast cancer, but before you get involved in activities and events promoted by various breast cancer organizations, check out their stats. What percentage of their money raised is actually given to the support of people with breast cancer, or to research for a cure for breast cancer?  How much of the money raised goes into overhead? Just because they have a big name does not make them a good place to put your money. Pink has become a great marketing tool for many organizations and businesses. People think if it's pink, they must be doing good things with that money. Not necessarily true! Do your research, ok? We don't need awareness events, we need research. We don't need "feel good" events, we need research.

Did you know that the survival rate of breast cancer has NOT CHANGED in 20 years???? If the research was being done, this statistic would no longer be true.

 Did you know there are 14 different types of breast cancer?

Did you know that "early detection" of breast cancer is a bit deceiving? Most breast cancers have been there months -or in my case years - before they are actually diagnosed.

Did you know that 76% of women who develop breast cancer have absolutely NO risk factors? All women are at risk!

11% of women diagnosed with breast cancer said pain was symptom. I am one of them. In fact, it was my first symptom. It is pain that lead me to find my lump.

There are approximately 232,670 new cases of breast cancer in women are diagnosed in the US every year, and 2,360 cases of breast cancer in men. Approximately 40,000 women and 430 men in the US die from breast cancer every year. 

While mammograms are helpful in diagnosing breast cancer, the most important thing you can do is know your breasts! Know how they feel and how they look so you are aware of changes when and if they occur.