Eileen

"You may very well have cancer for the rest of your life."

"You could be cured."

"Patience is priority."

"If your cancer returns, there is nothing we can do until you have symptoms."

"Do you understand why we don't do the CA125 blood test at each checkup?"

"I hope things go well with the breast lump follow-up."

**************

Did I leave my last check-up at the cancer clinic any wiser than when I entered? Don't think so!

I will say there is something oddly therapeutic about going to the cancer clinic, though. I intentionally look at the faces of the people seated in front of each clinic window and wonder about their stories.

As my dear, faithful driver and companion offers to go get our usual double double and apple cinnamon from the onsite Timmies to tide us over as we wait, I look for a place to sit. Today the clinic is full. Getting two seats together might be tricky. Clinic 3 is right next to the "chemo door" as I affectionately dubbed it 18 months ago!

'Tis there I stepped over the threshold and received my 6 hour treatments. A painful time. I try to avoid sitting close. But the only two vacant chairs are within a few feet from the "door." I decide to stop being silly and claim them. My oversize teal satchel substitutes for my hubby for now. [It needs to be oversize for it holds, along with the other paraphernalia, my book to read, my notes, my diary.]

Soon my tea arrives. Happy Hubby chooses to stand after driving for two hours. My purse stays put. The nice lady next to us smiles and suddenly we are in conversation. It begins with cell phones as a topic. Eileen, we've soon found out her name, knows all about the Blackberry. It is all new to my hubby so he appreciates her mini tutorial. Soon we notice her oxygen tank. Does she have lung cancer?

Ten minutes pass. It seems like we have known each other for years. Eileen does not have cancer. She is at the clinic accompanying her friend who does. She continues to share how she needs a lung transplant but she is considered too healthy. So for now she carts around her portable oxygen tank wherever she may tread.

Eileen has much to complain about. So does her friend who by this time has emerged from the examination room and joins in on our lively conversation. A breast cancer patient, bald from the chemo, but challenged by the battle (I can tell.)

Neither of these gals complain. They sparkle with life. Their good attitude and radiant demeanour casts sunshine on the "chemotherapy door" and people cannot help but smile as they listen to the laughter. I can tell that, too. By the time they leave the clinic, I feel invigorated and blessed.

Eileen, the former MRI technician, whose life was turned upside down once more when her 58 year old husband suffered a heart attack and died, does not bemoan the fact that she is going through a very long valley.

Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...

What an example...

Next Appointment for me - August 2010.

Six months is a long time but it will shoot by at lightning speed. I take my little appointment paper and slip it into my agenda. If I start feeling sorry for myself, I will think of Eileen. I will remember her smile. I will count my blessings.

...I will fear no evil for You are with me...

I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.
Philippians 4:11-13 (The Message)

Glynis whines: I'm trying...I'm trying!

Probably...

So I walk into the doctor's office last week to pick up copies of my test results to take to my oncologist at the cancer clinic. I am heading for a check up this coming Thursday so I wanted to have all my ducks in a row.

I was told after my few lumpy scares, that things were okay. The breast lump was a bit more of a scare than the ones on my spine, but after some further testing I was told things seemed fine. The powers that be were booking me for a repeat ultrasound and mammo in 6 months.

As I looked over my report from the diagnostic imaging - the mammogram and ultrasound on the suspicious lump in my breast, my heart sank. Probably...probably benign, the report read. I was under the impression that there was no probably...that it was definitely benign. There was a suggestion that I go for either surgical consultation or have a followup mammo and ultrasound in six months. Somebody, on my behalf, opted for the six month followup.

Sure might have been nice if I had been in on that decision making process.

Maybe I am being overactive in the panic department again. It's just that once a body has been dealt that cancer card, the word 'probably' doesn't sit well. I remember prior to my surgery they said I would probably not need to have chemotherapy.

One hairless year later...

But I must trust and rest in the knowledge that these medical pros are just that - the experts.

Meanwhile I will head off to the cancer clinic this week and rattle my cage a little. I'll ask for that good old second opinion...

Be still and know that I am God...Psalm 46:10

OMG?

Something has been bothering me lately. Actually it has been bothering me for a while. Maybe I have been watching too many episodes of American Idol or So You Think You Can Boogie.

Why is that so many people feel a need to punctuate conversation with cries of "Oh My God" -which is not said for any praiseworthy reason nor is it intended to call attention to the mighty works of the Lord? No holy awe here, folks. Only self absorbed blasphemy in my books. Social networking sites aren't any better either. They too, sport the typical OMG acronym more often than not.

I am no prude, yet I am thinking that taking the Lord's name in vain in this manner is saturating society and we hardly even bat an eyelash.

Well, you know what they say...if you can't beat 'em - join 'em. So, yes. That is what I will do. I will spend a portion of my day and include Oh, My God in my vocabulary starting right now. I sure know I have a million reasons in my life to say Oh, My God!

In fact, I am going to share ten of those reasons right here.

1. Oh, my God! How wonderful you are. You created me in my mother's womb and made me in a really cool way. I could never do that, even if I had the smarts.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. Psalm 139:14

2. Oh, my God! I survived cancer. I cannot thank you enough for giving me more days. I sure wasn't finished having grandbabies or writing my stories or being a good wife or organizing my cupboards.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:43.

3. Oh, my God! I watched two of my beautiful grandchildren being born. I gaze in awe as I see all my grandchildren wholly trust my own 'babies' to teach them and love them and nurture them. How can anyone doubt Who you are and what a miracle is?.

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14

4. Oh, my God! You sent Jesus, knowing He would be rejected and persecuted and would die a horrible death on the cross. How you must love us.

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Isaiah 53:3

5. Oh, my God! Your power in nature is breathtaking. I plant a tiny seed and within a few months I am eating food that will nourish and sustain. My God - how do you do that?

So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. 1Corinthians 3:7

6. Oh, my God! I do not understand natural disaster. I wonder if I was a Haitian soul, would I be shaking my fist at You or would I be rejoicing as some of those God fearing people are? I really cannot comprehend why You allow this to happen, but I know that I don't need to. You are in control. My God, who am I to question? But thanks for letting me, all the same.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. Isaiah 55:8

7. Oh, my God! When I think of all the beautiful people you have put in my path, I rejoice. I don't think I do it often enough, though. So thanks God for family and friends who say hello through e-mails, letters, phone calls, visits. I need to stop and smell the roses more often.

A friend loves at all times...Proverbs 17:17

8. Oh, my God! I have failed you. You have given me so much. I demand more. You have forgiven me over and over again. I still make poor choices. I bow my head in prayer and then I get on with my day and forget what you whispered to my heart.

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Ephesians 4:32

9. Oh, my G od! How I marvel at people like Mother Theresa, and Billy Graham and ordinary people who tread in the name of Jesus where others fear to tread. Give me half their courage and allow me to get my light out from under the bushel.

In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:16

10. Oh, my God! For you, my God so loved this crazy mixed up, foul mouthed, power consuming, war-mongering world that you sent your only Son, Jesus, so that we may not perish but have that life that goes on and on forever. What, by the way my God, is forever? You have promised us eternal life with Jesus. Can I even fathom what that means? That thought seems too lofty. I am unworthy, yet you invite me to know you personally. Show me more, Lord. I cannot wait. But I will. Because, my God, it is all about You and Your perfect timing.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16

I Thank you Oh, My God!

Posted by Glynis at 7:21 AM Labels: OMG; Oh My God

Dense

So they tell me I'm a little dense and I've got more lumps than the average camel. But I'm absolutely overjoyed at the news.

I went for my repeat mammogram and ultrasound this past week. I was getting a little nervous at first, because they switched my appointments around and wanted me to come in a week earlier than originally planned.

I had convinced myself they did that for there was something horrifying on the report. It turned out, I had naught to fear for the appointment switching was to accomodate the doctor's whims and wishes not because of anything untoward. They managed to 'squeeze' me in (pardon the mammogram pun ladies) last minute and all was an adventure. I got there around 10:30am and I didn't leave until quarter to one. But they gave me a workout that covered all the bases.

Bottom line - I have cysts, lipomas (benign) and have dense tissue. I really didn't mind that the techy gal called me dense. I was privy to the little areas on the screen as she pointed out all my lumps and bumps. Sheesh. I am thinking that I am turning into a toad. I better get kissing my prince lest I start croaking!

Anyway, the heart is at peace. And the green light tells me to accelerate and get on with life. There is still no real indication about the whys and wherefores of my pre Christmas 'spell' but I feel just fine now. I guess if it 'ain't broke we won't fix it!'

God has a few more plans for me I know, so I am going to focus on those and get on with things. No sense in bemoaning one's misery. Life awaits. Okay, it's the weekend and I am off to start counting blessings. Joy! Hope! Go!

I Will Take Care of You

I miss my mother terribly.
Here's to you mom.

Beautiful song by Amy Sky

Enid Latham [MOM] 1926-2007

When the Telephone Rings

Two minutes ago, a ringing phone snapped me back to reality and I am just about ready to stand on my desk and boogy! It was a nurse from my lovely doc's office. My CA125 is normal. 'Normal...' I haven't been called that in a while. She actually called me 'normal' and for now I am relishing in that fact.

I am not even going to think about my next round of tests right now. Afterall, it is not unusual to be called back for a repeat mammogram and ultrasound, right? I am just not looking forward to having an audience. Apparently the radiologist is going to be in the room this time along with the technician. One would think I have lost all my modesty after what I have been through over the past while. Sigh. I guess will have once it's all over!

Right now I'm off to dance with my grandbabies in the kitchen! Tap..tap...clickety-click. Like my new tap shoes?

Thank You Jesus!

Say Cheese

A little cheesy or maybe even a tad corny, but that's a command that still incites bared teeth and toothy grins in front of a camera.


I always used to hate having my photo taken but I think I am over that now, although I don't make it a habit posing in front of a camera if I can help it.

I'm thinking that my hesitancy about having my mug shot on photo paper had to do with my teeth. I always thought I had rabbit teeth. Maybe it was something to do with my family calling me bugs bunny when I was a young whipper snapper. Not nice, huh? But in my maturity I am over it. (I think)

Last year I was awarded top prize for individual fundraiser at the Ovarian Cancer Canada Winners Walk of Hope and my prize was a super 2 hour package from a photography studio in Barrie - 3 Girls and a Camera. http://www.threegirlsandacamera.com/.

It was time to get a grip and show my grin! We needed updated photos for the Rogue's Gallery at our house!

We had some troubles setting up a time that was convenient for everyone to get together for family pics but we eventually made it. We headed north in our blue jeans and pink for girls; black for boys ensemble.

Laura Baker, the photographer extraordinaire, nestled us nicely into her old barn and we primped and posed every which way on the straw bales. It was lots of fun and Laura must have snapped 200 pictures or more! She was so kind and patient with us - even though it was a 'prize' and not a paid sitting for her. What a gem.

Now that I have the CD filled with all my grinning offspring and their gorgeous families (am I slightly prejudiced?) I am trying to figure out sizes for the wall and where to hang them. I don't exactly have a discerning eye for interior decorating, I am going to give it the old college try, though. Hmmm. Should be fun!

The End(s)

One Lump or Two, Madam? Subtitle: Defining Normal

(This post was originally written on Tuesday, January 19/10)

The verdict is [partially] in and so far the news is good. The two odd lumpy areas at the base of my spine were once again, lipomas, which are basically clinically insignificant. For that, I breath a sigh of relief!

The abdominal x-ray shows a few issues - naught that a few pills can't help, though. I still have to sit tight for the repeat mammogram on the lump but it may be just a bad pose on my part and yet one more insignificant lump to add to my collection. We'll see.

Tomorrow - bloodwork. Then we will close this Pandora's box and hopefully life will plateau once more. I hesitate to say it will get back to 'normal' for I have forgotten what that is to be honest. Was I ever there?

I'm sitting in the cardiac unit at University Hospital in London writing this as I await the completion of Dad's pacemaker procedure - he's getting a "newer model." I wonder if Dad ever wanted to be 'normal' again and not have a pacemaker. But since he has had one since 1983, I guess having one is normal for him. I suppose, then, that normal is relative.

Anyway, when I stop and think about it, normal would probably be far too boring for this gal who can't sit still at the best of times. We journey on and count it all joy. That's my kind of normal!

Neurotic? Psychotic? Idiotic?

So I went to the doctor's armed with my lovely new agenda. The list seemed silly but Shirley, the nurse, encouraged me by telling me that it was a smart thing to do, for patients have the tendency to forget things once the doctor walks in.

"You don't think I am neurotic doing this?" I asked.

"Of course not. It's your life and your body. You have every right to say what's up and to write it down."

We chatted some more. Shirley gave me the confidence to express exactly what was on my mind and to request my CA125 blood test although my oncologist told me it would just be a source of anxiety if it was elevated. In other words, they wouldn't do repeat chemotherapy until I got sicker.

It was a bit of an extended visit with my lovely MD and she seemed sincere in her concerns and allowed me to share and read from my 'neurotic list.' In a nutshell, she ended up ordering two ultrasounds, one x-ray, one mammogram and bloodwork.

So I went on my merry way and wrote the dates down for all my appointments. All of a sudden I felt like it was 2008 again when health related appointments were the order of the day, the week, the month, the year!

With students rebooked and dates juggled, I ended up being able to have all the tests in one day, except for the bloodwork. I had an ultrasound and a mammogram in one hospital and a mammogram and a second ultrasound in another hospital. Bloodwork will happen next Wednesday [I have to remember not to eat anything in the morning!]

I am now waiting for the results of the ultrasound and the x-ray. These were done because of the lump on the base of my spine and also as a followup from the unexplained 'spell' that I had before Christmas. I am thinking that no news is good news, because it has been three days and no one has called.

The mammogram is another story. I am trying not to think bad thoughts but the news did come in and now I have to go back to get 'rechecked.' The nurse who called me on the day following the initial mammogram said the doctor who read it 'just wasn't sure.' They wanted to check a suspicious area. So here's the kicker. The nurse scored me another appointment but it isn't for another three and a half weeks. To me, that sounds like it's naught to fret about, right?

Thinking positively. Giving it to God. Taking it back again to chew and worry over. Thinking positively again. Apologizing and giving it back to God. Sigh...

Being a profoundly lumpy person, I am trying to get my head around this and am trying to convince myself that these are 'just another couple of harmless lumps."

Enough said...I have had my little panic attack so now I will wait. I mean, why waste my time thinking the worst when I could be enjoying the best! One day at a time, sweet Jesus!