It's ok to grieve

In June my mother will have been gone from this earth for three years. It doesn't seem like it's been that long. Some days I roll through life perfectly fine, thinking of how she would have loved this or that, how much she would enjoy the beautiful weather.  And then others, for seemingly no reason at all, I will find myself struggling with even mundane tasks, like running errands.  She'll pop into my mind, my throat will constrict, and tears fill my eyes.  And suddenly I am struggling to keep it together.  

Grief in silhouette by Tim Green

When someone you love dies, no one gives you a manual.  You're usually given three days off of work to grieve them, and then it's back to the daily grind.  When my grandmother died, I thought the grief process ended that suddenly. That after just a little grieving you turned off your emotions and got back to the business of living.  Aside from her funeral and that first week or so, I can't remember ever seeing my mother or her sisters cry.  I thought they were over it, that it was done.  It wasn't until my mama died that I realized how wrong I was.  I was sitting at my Aunt Sue's house talking with her about when Granny (as we called her) died, and she began to cry.  I was shocked at first, and then so relieved.  I told her exactly what I just told you. That I thought they had gotten over it and just moved on. I had thought I must be doing something wrong because I was still upset over a year later.  She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, "No".  

Light after Darkness by Jhong Dizon

It was like a switch flipped on in my brain. Grief isn't something you just do for a little while. It's something you will do the rest of your life, in different ways.  And that is OK. It's OK that sometimes I need to break down and cry. It's OK that sometimes I can remember sweet times with mama and be happy. There is no right or wrong way to do this, and best of all, there's no time limit. I don't have to "get over it" and move on.  I just have to live, one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time, and living is all mama would want from or for me.  Just to keep going and live my life.

Dear Mama,

I'm going to be a grandma. Things are going so fast since you left us, mama. I wish you could meet Brittany. You would love her. She's sweet, and country, and perfect for Shane. I think this is the first time he's ever truly been in love. And I'm so thankful that God put her in his life.

My family is growing by leaps and bounds mama. It's amazing how fast it happened. Matt has found himself a wonderful girl. We just got to meet her last week. She's from Wisconsin, her name is Melissa. And she's a sweetheart. She would remind you a lot of me. She talks super fast, which I love. Finally someone who can keep up with me.

Amanda has a new love as well, Isaiah. They're planning on getting married. She asked him. I know that doesn't surprise you a bit, she's an assertive little fart. Always has been. Oh, and they've all moved out. But don't worry, I'm not alone. Hunter and Lolo are here most days. So I am plenty active. And when they go home I turn off the TV, put on some music, and chill.  It's so nice mama. I'm working on getting healthy. I want to live to a ripe old age. I hope I can live up to the huge shoes that you left to be filled. You were the best grandma I have ever seen. I hope I can be half as good as you were.

Love you mama, miss you always,

Moving on?

Mama has been gone 1 year, 3 months. That's 10,969 hours; 658,170 minutes; 39,490,200 seconds.  And still I miss her so bad at times that I will spend an entire week trying my best not to cry.  I wonder sometimes if I went to the doctor and told them how I feel if they wouldn't diagnose me as depressed and try to give me a pill to fix it.

Losing mama was the most traumatic thing I have been through thus far in my life. She wasn't just a parent to me, she was my friend. She was the first person I would call when ever I had a problem. And the first one I would call when I had some new and exciting news to share. She encouraged me, listened to me, and prayed with me, and I miss her terribly.

I confess that in the past I've been just as guilty of thinking someone who is grieving should "get over it" already. Your job will usually give you three days. You plan the memorial service, cry, and greet people you haven't seen in years, if ever. And then you're supposed to suck it up and move on. But loosing someone isn't that easy.

The night before my son had surgery on his ankle I wanted so desperately to call her. For her to tell me everything would be fine. I've heard people speak about forgetting that someone is dead so they'll start to call and realize they aren't there. I can't forget. I never forget. Every day it's a refrain that plays in my mind. "She's gone, she's gone, she's gone"  I never accidentally pick up the phone to call her. I know I can't. But I so desperately want to.  So very very badly.

The one thing her loss has taught me is that it isn't fair of me to put a timeline on grief, whether mine or someone else's.  Every single person, every relationship, is different. Whether you grieved a few days and moved on or are still grieving multiple years later, that is your journey. And it's one that we all must take on our own time and in our own way. And I don't want to feel guilty about missing my mama any more. I don't want to feel like it is wrong of me to ache at her loss.  I'll mourn for her as long as I need to, until I can move on.

Merry Christmas Mama

As Christmas draws ever nearer my days get longer and harder to deal with. Mama was born December 24th.  She was a Christmas Eve baby and I can't remember ever really celebrating her birthday with her. Of course we all would wish her happy birthday. And we would give her a gift when we were able. But there were no parties, no family dinners. It was always just lumped in with Christmas celebrations. How sad is that?  I regret that now, though I never gave it another thought then.  And I'm sure that she didn't either.

Christmas was mamas favorite time of the year.  She loved it. When she was still healthy and able the phrase "deck the halls" doesn't even begin to touch what she did. Mandy Lou always said that it looked like Santa puked all over the place lol. She decorated every tree she had in the yard. She would have a huge wreath hanging on the side of her house. Every single surface would be covered in tinsel and decorations. And when the day came she loooved the presents. Her greatest joy was watching the kids open theirs. And our greatest joy was watching her open hers. No matter what you gave mama she cried lol.  I remember one Mothers day we made her a DVD and gave it to her inside a box of tissues. We knew she'd need them. But you could give her anything and it could have been given the same way, with a box of tissues.  She loved the personal gifts the best. Things that you didn't necessarily buy but that you took the time to make for her. A letter, a card, a drawing; she loved and saved them all.

My Christmas spirit isn't gone, just running from me. I still love the holiday. I am anxiously looking forward to my kids opening their gifts.  But I find myself crying more, wishing she were here more often. All holidays may be difficult, but this will be the hardest for me. Because I always associated Christmas with mama. To me she embodied the very spirit of Christmas. And with her gone it's really hard to catch it.

I love you mama, Merry Christmas.

In loving memory

I apologize for the delay in my post. We had another loss in the family and I've been dealing with that and the feelings it brought back to me. In memory of those I've lost in the last year and a half.

"Uncle" Pat - July 2012

Pat passed away a little over a year ago.  She was an amazing woman, and my sister-in-law.  When my children were little they couldn't keep Aunt and Uncle straight. So they called her "Uncle" Pat and her husband "Aunt".  The moniker stuck and from that point forward she was Uncle Pat to every kid around her. She was my husbands best friend and confidant and her loss for him was much like the loss of my mother was for me.  Their childhood was not ideal and they only really had each other to lean on.  Through trials and separations they remained close.  She helped hubby through the loss of their brother. His first and closest friend, the one he'd been through everything with. And then she came back into his life again shortly before the death of their father.  She was his rock, and mine too. She had a quick smile and an even faster wit. She doted on her grandson and kept us all laughing with her silly jokes.  And we miss her greatly.

Uncle Danny - September 2013

Maybe you recognize the lady in this picture. That is my Aunt and her husband Danny. I swear that woman amazes me with her strength. After losing my mother barely three months ago her husband died suddenly.  Uncle Danny had fought a long illness and one of my biggest regrets is that I didn't visit them more often.  I remember him much younger than this, with curly blond hair. They had bought my cousin a horse for something, her birthday maybe? And he was trying to "break" it. I can see him clear as day in my mind. On the back of that horse and it bucking wildly. In my memory I'm laughing at the sight. But I don't remember if I was actually laughing at the time or just terrified that he was going to get killed. He didn't, and he did tame the horse.   I remember us going to their house once because they had a pig we were going to slaughter. I remember bits of this, not an entire picture.  I remember seeing a bunch of grown men chase a pig around the yard because it had escaped. Or maybe it was in the pen. I'm really not sure. But it's a funny memory and still makes me smile. When I think of Uncle Danny that's how I'll remember him, wild and free. He always made me think he stepped out of some macho movie. He was Chuck Norris to me before I knew who Chuck Norris was.   I thought he could do anything.

Mama - June 2013

What can I say about mama that I haven't said already? I miss her so terribly bad. I look at pictures of her and I cry. Because I can't go sit and chat with her. I try not to think about it. My way of dealing with the entire situation is just to pretend it did not happen. And then there are those moments when I am forced to face the facts. And they are hard. I swallow the lump in my throat and force myself not to think. To not fall into this abyss that is looming at my feet. I know she is in a better place. I know that she is no longer in pain, and she was in so much pain. I know that she is no longer short of breath or struggling in any way. I want her here. I want her to be better here with me.

The one crappy part about life is that sooner or later you have to say goodbye to the people you love. Whether it be saying goodbye to a loved one who has gone on before you. Or maybe your time is looming and you're saying your final goodbyes.   The only thing that keeps me going is the knowledge that one day we'll meet again in heaven. By the grace of God and the forgiveness of Christ Jesus, one day...

Could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy; and you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields. ~ Khalil Gibran

If you're going through hell, keep going - Winston Churchill

~ Standing in the middle of the grocery store
~ Waiting at a red light
~ Doing laundry

It hits me at the most random of times.  I can be fine for days. And then suddenly my chest is tight and my eyes are overflowing.  She's gone. My mama is gone.  And I know as a good Christian I should be happy. She's in heaven, she has her reward.  But I'm not happy. I want her here. Heaven is a fabulous place from all I read.  But it isn't here. I can't go hug her. I can't call her and ask for advice. I can't call her and tell her how my day went or about the things that are worrying me or bothering me.  I can't have dinner with her.  All I can do is remember her. And I miss her.   God I miss her so bad.  And I don't want her back the way she was right before she died. The pale, weak, tired woman who was doing her best just to keep going. I want the vibrant woman who was here just last year.  Just one year ago she was full of life. She wasn't tired or wore down. She wasn't sick.  She was fine.



It seems as if I spent the last nine months always going. Never really taking the time to just be in the moment.  I figured if I stayed busy and pretended this wasn't happening that it would just go away. And it didn't. But my mama did.  I wish so bad I had every single one of those moments back. If I could just go back to one of the many times she said "Sit down and stay a while Julie".  One of the many times I said I couldn't. I had so much to do. So much stuff that needed done. And it all could have waited. Someone else could have taken Amanda to class.  The chores would have waited. I could have asked for more help from my family. I should have insisted on it.  I could have had a cup of coffee with mama. I could have cooked dinner with her more. More than once I told mama I was sorry. I was trying. I just had so much to do. "It's ok, I understand" She always understood. And what I wouldn't give for those moments back.

You know you always hear that you should treasure your loved ones because one day they'll be gone and you will wish you'd had that time back.  It's so true. It's so unbelievably true. I always thought that was a beautiful sentiment. And I was so sure I was living that way. Till I lost my mom and realized how much time I wasted that I could have spent with her.

Go find your mama, daddy, child, husband, wife, or friend and hug them. Tell them all how much they mean to you. And spend every moment you can with them. Because the moments spent with them are the things you'll remember. And the moments spent in pursuit of the perfect life will be the ones you regret.

On loss and love....

On June 2, 2013 my mother went home to be with the Lord.  She fought cancer valiantly and left a hole in my heart and life that will never be filled.

Mama never had an easy life. But she also never complained. When we were little I remember her always being active. She never sat around. She was always cooking, cleaning, gardening, or playing with us.  She loved flowers and she had numerous flower beds that she would tinker around in while we would run around playing.  Once I decided to help her weed one of her flower beds. I was so sure I was helping her out. I went out and spent about 30 minutes pulling every single weed out of her flower garden. Then I went inside and grabbed her hand, dragging her outside to show her my handy work.   When we got out the front door she exclaimed "JULIE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
"I pulled the weeds"
"You pulled the flowers!"  And she laughed.
That was always one of our fondest memories. We'd laugh about how I pulled all of the flowers out of her garden and left the weeds. I would tell her that the weeds looked prettier to me. And she'd remind me that she did thank me for trying to help.  And that's the way it was with mama.  Whenever life threw a curve ball at her she laughed and went on. I think it was her faith in Jesus that gave her such strength and inner peace.

Once she was diagnosed with cancer I'm sure she had bad days. I remember calling her one day and asking how she was doing. "I'm fine" She had been crying, but that was always her answer. She was always fine. Even when she wasn't.  And I would playfully tell her "Liar"  And we'd both laugh.  After she was diagnosed my siblings and I went to her house to have a meeting. Sort of an "Oh Lord, what do we do now?" thing.  And I asked her if there was anything that she wanted to do. Any "bucket list" type opportunities or activities that she wanted to get out of the way. "No, " she said, "I've done it all"   I couldn't fathom this at first. How could that be so?  She never lived in the fancy houses that I know she dreamed of. She never had a fancy car. We had talked about traveling the world together. We never got to do that.  But thinking back on it now, all mama ever wanted was time with her kids. And that was enough for her. That was enough to make her content.  As my kids begin to move out I can understand this sentiment.

One month and a week after mama passed away my beautiful baby girl moved out. She had graduated high school and wanted to move in with her boyfriend. She's 17 and I probably could have guilted her into staying home. I could have begged and pleaded, brought up the fact that I just lost mama. And she would have stayed.  But she would have been angry with me. And I don't think it would have made a difference in the long run. Sooner or later she was going to move out and begin her life on her own.  And probably sooner rather than later.  And it would have been just as hard then as it is now.

Yesterday (Wednesday, July 10) we loaded all of Amanda's boxes into my van and I drove her to her boyfriend's house. He lives about a 45 minute drive away and we planned to drop her off when I took my nephew to his therapy, which is about 10 minutes away from her boyfriends house.  I had a week to prepare myself for this, but a year wouldn't have been enough. When she took the last of her boxes into his house I broke down.  I tried really hard not to leave her crying but it was just impossible.

I spent the next couple of hours at therapy, driving, feeding animals, and just generally trying not to think about what had just happened. But when I finally got home and went in my house it was impossible not to think about. Therapy is every Wednesday and most days Amanda went with me.  After the hour ride there, home, and an hour sitting in the waiting room she was always full of energy. The first thing she would do when she came in was start up some music and start dancing in my living room. She'd pester me about working out with her. "You gonna work out with me today mama?" I had a litany of excuses. I was too tired, had too cook dinner, needed to clean house.  I wish I had danced with her more and made excuses less.

So when I came into my now empty house (my boys were both gone to friends for the night) it hit me full force. My baby was gone. She wasn't going to dance around my living room anymore.  She wasn't going to needle me into working out with her or unload the dishwasher while I started dinner. And so I cried.  Thankfully my son saw a post of mine on facebook and called. "You want some company mom?"
 "YES PLEASE!"
He and his girlfriend came and spent the afternoon with me. They left about 10 minutes before my husband came home and he held me while I cried myself to sleep.

This morning I went into her room to check out what she'd left behind.  I saw the fuzzy robe that I had given her, the clutch that we had found that went perfectly with the dress that we bought for the winter formal. The one she never got to attend.  And I kept thinking things like "She'll never get to wear  her fuzzy robe again" and "We just bought her that bed a few months ago so she would sleep better." Suddenly I realized that I was acting as if she were dead. Like she was gone and I would never see her again. And I realized that I never really grieved for mama.  I have been sad and I have cried. But I haven't allowed myself to think of her as gone.  Because if I actually acknowledge that my mother is dead then I have to face the fact that I will never again hug her. I won't playfully chide her about not eating enough.  She won't laugh at my silliness and tell me I worry too much or I work too hard.

And Amanda moving suddenly made all of this clear to me. I was grieving her as if she had died because I couldn't bring myself to admit that mama had. I couldn't handle the thought that my mama was gone and she wasn't coming back. Mandy moving is hard, I miss her fiercely. But I can go visit her whenever I want. I can call her every day. She's still here. She's just not living with me anymore.  My mama is gone. I'll never again be able to call her and gripe about my husband, my children, or that woman in the grocery store who was rude to me.  I can't go sit in her living room and talk to her about everything and nothing at the same time. I won't hear her laugh over some silly joke I made that no one else found funny.  We won't be able to watch movies together and cry. And we'll never travel the world. And it hurts.  It hurts to the very core of my being. And I don't say anything because I don't want all of the looks of sympathy. I don't want people calling me all the time to check on me. I just want to grieve. I want to miss my mama and cry and I want it to be ok for me to do that. Because when people call to check on me, then I feel like I'm pitying myself.  I feel like I need to get over myself and my need to grieve. Lots of people have lost their parents. I'm not the first, I won't be the last. Why should I carry on so?  But when people leave me to it I can cry. I'm not depressed. I'm not wallowing in it. I am missing my mama.

Let me be candid

This last week has been a roller coaster of emotion. We received some not so great news about my mom. She's been really light headed lately, confused, and forgetful. To the point that she can't remember things she's known for years and she uses the wrong word a lot. We mentioned it to her doctor and he wanted to do an MRI to make sure that there were no tumors in her brain. He asked if she'd ever had one, I told him yes, at the beginning.

So they did a repeat scan and found tumors in her skull; not her brain, but the skull. This means that her cancer is a definite stage 4 now.  They scheduled her for a bone scan to see how far spread these tumors in her bones are. We found this out right after we learned that the pneumonia she had been fighting for over a month was still here. We went to the doctor Friday to find out the results of the bone scan and how this affects her diagnosis.  The scan showed that the tumors in her bone are basically in her entire skeleton. In various places from her skull to her legs she has tumors.  Her doctor said that he is ever an optimist   So he has changed her medicine out and she will undergo a few more rounds of chemotherapy using two new drugs.  He's hoping with the new medicines that we can get her disease to a stable point again.  To be honest my hope is waning. When my mother started chemo I hoped she would be cured. Now I'm just enjoying every moment I have with her, and hoping for the best. Whatever that is.




On the home front she has been having a lot of difficulty getting in and out of bed, which is where she spends most of her time at the moment.  Lifting herself up causes a lot of pain probably because of the tumors in her bones. So we've had her set up with a hospital bed and nurse. She also set herself up with a physical therapist. She's thinking maybe they can help work some of the soreness out since she spends so much time in bed. I'm all for that. I'm glad because it will allow her to maintain her independence for a bit longer, which is really important to mama.

At the time of this writing she's actually back in the hospital for the pneumonia that she is still battling.  After we went to the doctor Friday we ran a few errands and then went back to her house. She was fine then, just a little tired and so I went on home to let her get a nap.  Then Saturday about lunch time my brother and his family went by to check on her, again she was fine. At about 6pm Saturday evening my sister called to check on her. Mama was having an extremely hard time breathing and couldn't even speak because of it. So my brother went and picked her up and rushed her to the ER where we all met her.  She is feeling much better today but they have decided to keep her until they get the pneumonia healed. She's been fighting it for about a month with medicine at home so that obviously isn't working.  I know my mom and know she is NOT going to like this being stuck in a hospital. But I think this is the best for her too.

Now I have told you before that I am an emotional eater.  Eating junk food gives me comfort. I don't know why, I haven't figured that out yet. I just know it does. So this past week, the second part of the mini-challenge I am doing, was a complete and total flop. Not only did I not eat my two fruits and vegetables with every meal, I ate cookies and snickers.  Many cookies and snickers.  And the thing that gets me is I knew what I was doing the whole time. It wasn't as if I was blindly eating and suddenly had a realization, "Oh my, I have eaten an entire Snickers.  How clumsy of me"    Naw, I went into it knowingly and willingly.  I was standing at the candy counter one day thinking to myself, "Do I really need a Coke and a Snickers?  You know how many calories that is, and how hard they are to burn"  It only took me about 15 seconds to decide yes, yes I did need a Coke and a Snickers.

And I am really not sure how to combat this. How to beat these tendencies. If I beat myself up about it, then I feel worse. And I say to myself, "Well, you've flopped anyways, no sense in trying now. You're just a failure. Go get a Snickers."  If I tell myself, "Ok you screwed up, let's move past this, just don't do it again." Then I feel.. less guilty?  when I do buy the junk food. Because then I tell myself, "Well you just screwed up is all, you can fix this, DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT!  YOU GOT THIS!  Besides, you need it. It makes you feel better"   And I'm struggling to find something that makes me feel as good as food does.  So that when I am NOT hungry and DON'T really want it, I won't go to it. I'll just find something else to do.  So I guess I'm just letting you know that I have failed this week. I don't know how to stop myself, and I am open to suggestions.

photo credit: C. E. Sandoval via photopin cc

Oh, and I'm rebooting part two of the challenge next week.  So hopefully I can get myself back on track.

They say confession heals the soul....

When I was little I was a worry wart.  Heck who am I kidding? I am still a worry wart. I worry about EVERYTHING.  My family often says that they don't worry about anything because they know I'll worry enough about it for everyone.  And I do. I don't remember my parents arguing when I was little. But I know they must have because I remember asking my mama over and over if her and my daddy would ever get divorced.  Her answer was always the same, "Never!"

Never isn't a very long time because when I was 14 my parents separated and when I was 17 they divorced.   I mentioned this to my mom years ago and asked her if she remembered me always asking about her and daddy being divorced. She said that she did and she should never have told me that they wouldn't get divorced.  She said you can never tell what will happen in the future and that was the lesson she learned from that.




Somewhere around the same time I was trying to get my mom to stop smoking.  Arguably I was trying in the wrong way. Instead of encouragement I was basically bribing her, shaming her, and basically bullying her in hopes that she would quit.  My grandfather smoked all of his life and he developed lung cancer because of it. Towards the end of his life he was unable to care for himself and his family was called in. I remember my mom and her sisters sitting with him, caring for him. They had to do everything for him.  And then several years after that my mothers father-in-law (her second husband's step-father) developed lung cancer. He went through basically the same thing. Only this time it was only my mother caring for him.  So during this time that I was trying to get her to quit smoking I said to her, "What if you get lung cancer, mama? Who's gonna take care of you? Me!  That's who!  Do you want me to have to do that for you like you did for papa and Earl?" And her reply was, "No, I won't get to that point. I would rather die than be a burden to y'all"

Now if you've been reading through my blog then you know my mom has lung cancer. If you don't then there you are. Her lung cancer is the kind that non-smokers get, so the doctor says that whether or not she smoked is irrelevant. But she hasn't been doing well lately. She's had pneumonia a couple of times and basically she has felt horrible.  My brother calls and checks on her daily, my sister texts her all throughout the week, and I call a couple times a week.  And she hadn't told any of us that she was doing so poorly. We found out when she had to call one of her sisters for help.  I was frustrated with her and called her to find out why she wasn't calling. She said that she didn't want to be a burden on us. She reminded me of what she'd said about that all of those years ago.  I felt floored. I told her we'd rather care for her for years than lose her now. That she wasn't a burden and we loved her.

I think the reason she feels this way is my fault. If I hadn't badgered her so much and carried on about how I would have to take care of her then she wouldn't feel like a burden. I really didn't mean that I wouldn't want to take care of her. I was just trying to shame her into quitting smoking. And I'm ashamed of myself now. And more than that I am ashamed that my mother now considers herself a burden. She's not. She never has been and never will be. And I hope that somehow I can get that through her thick head.

I love you mama.  And I'm sorry.

Tidbits - Episode 1

Many times I think of random bits of information that I want to share, but they aren't really enough to make a blog post.  I call these tidbits.  And so, when I've accumulated enough of my little tidbits to make a post, you'll have a Tidbits Episode ;)


~ Sometimes, when dealing with my mother's cancer, I feel completely alone. Today we went to a doctor's appointment and once again rehashed the whole stage 3/4 conversation with the doctor. And while he didn't come right out and say stage 4, he did say that is "one of my biggest concerns".  Which makes me think he's leaning more in that direction now. So I came home sort of depressed and wishing I could reach out to someone.  My husband was at work, and what could he do anyways? Couldn't call him.  My brother and sister basically deal with the situation by pretending it doesn't exist (and so do I 99% of the time). And I didn't want to start them worrying as I was. I could call up a friend, but why? They could do nothing for me, and I know how helpless it feels when you want to help someone and you can't. So I was sad about mama and feeling sorry for myself when my youngest son asked me what was wrong. I cried and told him. He gave me a big hug and said it would be ok.   You know, sometimes I close myself off and get on a pity party for no reason.  My friends may not know how to help me, and my siblings may be struggling with this too. But they're there for me. All I have to do is ask.

~ For about a month a little while back I stayed up late waiting for my husband to get home from work. During this time I would start craving a snack around 10 o'clock.  It was never anything really big. A small bowl of cereal, a cookie, sometimes fruit.  But it was always something sweet.  After a month of doing this it became a habit.  And since I've started trying to get into shape again, and I am serious this time, I am trying to kick this habit. It is really hard!  I've actually started going to bed earlier, so most of the time I'm asleep by 10. But if I am awake, you can set your watch by it. Around 10pm my body starts hinting that it would like something sweet. And I start mentally tallying what we have that I would like.  Then I have to mentally slap myself. "QUIT IT!" I say.  I'm not gonna be that person anymore. But wow, the 10 o'clock munchies are rough!

~ And on that subject, I lost 2 more pounds. Woohoo, go me!  I'm down to 272 now. Which is awesome, but seeing that I was 265 and then gained 10 and am now trying to lose again what I already lost.. well,  you get the picture. So instead of whining about where I was, I've set a new goal. 270.  I figure I'll take this thing in 10 pound increments. That way I don't get overwhelmed and I can get to them quicker.  So yeah, 2 more pounds to my first goal!

~ I want to do a blog post soon about my day. I feel like I am in a solid run from morning till night, every day.  But when I type out what I do, it seems so.. little. I keep thinking people will read that and be like, "That's it? That's what you do all day? I could wrap that up in a couple of hours"  Maybe I'll do a week instead lol.

~ Finding time to blog is also a bit of a challenge. I want to update this thing regularly, but at the same time, I don't want to neglect my house, my family, or my diet to do so.  So I get frustrated thinking about how I need to do an update, and then I get frustrated because I am spending time writing that I could be using to do something else. It's an ugly cycle.

Survive Now, Cry Later

September 2012 my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer.  She had been bitten by a spider a couple of months earlier and had a persistent cough. Apparently spider bites can cause congestion and breathing problems so nothing was thought of her cough. Fast-forward a couple of months and the cough is still hanging around. She was sent for an X-ray and a lump was discovered in her right lung. She was then sent for a biopsy to figure out what kind of cancer she had.  Then we went to her lung doctor to find out what the results of the biopsy was.  Adenocarcinoma.  We went for a PET scan to see what the full extent of it was.  And then on to the cancer doctor to find out what stage her cancer was and her prognosis.  



Only we didn't get stage or a prognosis.  My mother is a rare breed, she always has been. And apparently her cancer is no different. 

When the PET scan was finished they found a lesion on her right humorous, a 5cm growth on her right ovary, and a slightly smaller one on her left, the original tumor in her right lung, and numerous nodules on her lymph nodes. At this point he tells us that if she's stage three then with treatment the average life span is 15 months.  If it is stage four, and it's looking a lot like stage four at this point, then it's two months.  So multiple tests were needed and "then we'll know what course of action to take".  I asked would we know what stage she was. "We should"  I took that as a yes. I should have paid better attention to that should.  She then underwent a bone biopsy on her right arm. This came back inconclusive, as the biopsy doctor told us it would.  He said that when they do these things they never want to say "There is no cancer here". Because what if later they find cancer in that spot, and then the doctor who said that is on the line. So they say that the test is either positive or inconclusive. Which means that they didn't find any cancer there, but they can't say for sure there isn't any. 

After the bone biopsy came back clean they had to biopsy her lymph nodes. They wanted to know if the cancer in them would be lung or ovarian. It is extremely rare for a person to have two types of cancer at one time, but it has happened.  At this point my mother and I have been in either doctor's offices or hospitals for about three weeks. We're exhausted and slightly irritable.  Mom has the biopsy done on her lymph nodes and they come back lung cancer. 
"Great," we think, "we're finally getting somewhere"
Haha, funny.  So we return to the cancer doctor who tells us that this is "good news"  lol Seriously? She has cancer in her lymph nodes and this is good news?  No actually the good news is that it wasn't ovarian cancer.  So (they think) she only has one type of cancer.  But just to be safe they need to send her to the gyno-oncologist.  They want him to take a look at her ovaries and decide if this is something that needs to be addressed of if it can be ignored.  The gynoc, as I have come to call him, does an ultrasound and says he thinks that what is on her ovaries are cysts.  He isn't sure, but he thinks so.  He orders a CA 125 blood test and her levels come back slightly elevated. But this is still not a 100% indication of anything. 

At this point they have been poking, prodding, and cutting on my mother for 2 months. We've had enough. At our next doctor's appointment we tell him so.  We're tired, according to what he told us to begin with she should be dead already, and we're doing nothing. Enough is enough, make a guess, but do something.  He tells us that the fact that she is still alive and is doing so well gives him hope that it's stage 3.  We have to wait one more week while he goes to consolidate with his colleagues about what course of treatment is best.  No more tests, no more prodding, just wait one week.  The next week we are set up on a chemotherapy regimen   The wise ones have decided that she'll undergo four rounds of chemo, repeat her cat scans, and we'll see what happens. If the things on her ovaries shrink with the chemo, they're probably cancer. If they don't, they probably aren't.  And at that point we'll revisit the option of radiation, which means we're trying to cure her of cancer and that she is stage 3.  

Fast forward to last week, she's finished her four rounds of chemo and she has had her scans.  Now we're waiting for the results. We're finally going to know what stage she is and whether we are going for a cure or trying to prolong her life. Doc comes in and tells us on the most recent scan the spot on her humorous is gone ("But I don't think that was cancer related anyways"), the things on her ovaries are unchanged ("That's good, but I want to do another CA 125 test since her levels were elevated last time"), the main tumor in her lung shrank, but some of the nodules on her lymph nodes grew. Her doctor said that it is probably stage 3 and that he is leaning in that direction. He's going to talk to the... well the doctor who decides whether or not she can have radiation treatments and see if she can.  And if so then we're going to do that. If not then we do maintenance chemotherapy.  

She has to have 2 more rounds of chemo now. One Tuesday and one three weeks from now.  And by then we'll have an answer about the radiation.  I hope we can go for a cure. But I wish it was possible to have a final answer. My mama's case is just so different it's about impossible. 

I sit here typing this dry eyed and with a lump in my throat. I would love to tell you I have cried till I can't cry anymore. But the truth is that I'm detaching myself from it. I can talk about it, I can joke with mama about it, I can have the most positive attitude you've ever seen. You'd think we think Cancer is a big joke. And I can do all of this because I don't actually think about it.  If I started to type here about how my life will change once she is gone, I would lose it.  I can't do that. What I can do is enjoy whatever time I have left with my mother. And when she is finally gone, and I don't have to be strong and upbeat anymore. Then I will deal with all of the emotions that are making my chest hurt. I will handle all of the things that I push down now.  

Here I am, now what are your other two wishes?

I love that line, my daughters friend says it often, and it makes me happy. Whenever I start reading a blog, I always think to myself, who is this person?  And I read the about me, and go back in the archives, and I try to get a sense of who this person is. What their life is like, how they live, what makes them happy, sad, and so on.   So I figure the place to start this blog is by telling you all a little about myself, my life, and what I'll be writing about.

First a little about me.  I'm 38 years old and I have 3 beautiful children.  I have numerous nieces and nephews whom I love to babysit. I have been with my husband for over 20 years and we've been married for 18 years.  I married my first love, and though there have been times when we've argued I couldn't have found a better match for me. I'm all about family, I still have dinner with my siblings, their families, and my parents once a month.  Oh and my parents are divorced, we'll get to that later I'm sure. I'm truly blessed to have such wonderful people in my life.


I suppose the next thing you should know about me is that I am 130lbs overweight.  My daughter tells me that I should post my weight. That until I can admit it I'll never defeat it. I sure do hope she's wrong about that one because I'm just not ready to post it yet. Even admitting how much overweight I am is a big deal for me.  I hate that I am this out of shape, I hate that I have let myself get to this point. But I am proud of me now.  Right now I am working on this. I have lost 16lbs already, it was more but I had gained some back before I started working on it again. And this time, I am serious. I am GOING to get to my goal weight, and I am going to be a healthier person. It will happen.  And one day, I will admit what I weigh, but it is not this day.

There is no easy way to say this next part, so I'll just jump right into it. My mother has Lung Cancer. As of this point they have no idea if it is stage 3 or 4 or what her prognosis is.  We should find all of that out in February once she has her first scans after chemo. There is a lot that goes with this, so I'll save it for my next post. My mother-in-law also has breast cancer.  These two women are such an encouragement to me in my daily life. Seeing how strong they are, how hard they're fighting.  I take my mother for all of her chemo and I take my mother-in-law some.  But rather than being down and upset about it I find my time with them more precious than ever.  I'm not miserable and I don't want you feeling sorry for me. But I will be talking about this and I want you to know about it.

So that's basically it, I'll be blogging about myself, my family, my weight loss trials, and dealing with two different cancers in my mother and mother-in-law.  And I am sure there will be several random posts thrown in just because I'm a random kinda gal.