I’ve had an influx of subscribers lately, so I thought I would start this by filling you all in a bit on where I am at in my cancer journey.
Here is a timeline:
Aug 2010-diagnosis: Stage 3 Invasive Ductal/Lobular Carcinoma
Sept 2010-port surgery
Sept-Nov 2010- chemotherapy
Dec 2010 -mastectomy + reconstruction
Feb 2011-Radiation –28 rounds
TODAY- round 13, halfway done with radiation!!
May 2011-“phase 2” of reconstruction
June 2011- tattoo time (read more here..)
For details of the journey, click here or on the Caring Bridge button in the sidebar.
I have come far. I have so much to be thankful for. There are many ups and downs. Today was a down, I write about it below… but I’ll get back up there.
——————————————————-
{Halfway radiation point & “down” isn’t my best look..but I do like my new hat that looks old:)}
Journal
I was late for radiation today.
It was a hard morning…I just could not pull myself together in time.
My radiation therapist, Mr. Brad, was so kind, reassuring me that they can be flexible, and that it was ok.
I told him a bit of my hard morning, he listened and said he would pray.
Then, I told him, with tears flooding,
He looked straight into my brewing storm and without hesitation, said:
A nugget of truth that shot straight to my heart and immediately brought internal storm rest. I exhaled and went on to face my day.
Oh Truth, sweet truth
From the written Word and the words of His people!
What would I do without Truth?
Truth has been harder to feel lately.
I KNOW truth, I SEE it, but it FEELS far away.
Lots of “static” in the way.
Busyness of thought that creates distance from grasping the feeling of truth.
I know I create some of that static, and I know that giving up a medication and adjusting to that give up creates static. I also know some of it is just life right now.
It. Just. Is.
This said static got the best of me this morning–it was oh, so loud–it comes and I kick and fit and shake my fists. Eyes up, head down, at times– in hands. Tissue thrown in piles on floor.
I blurt my static…to Him. To husband. To my Carma friend.
Words of “whys” and “no’s” and fears and questions and closed hands and fed ups..my words.
“But Lord…”
“No Lord…”
“Enough Lord..”
Vivid dreams have turned from normal into nightmares. Can I just have one day of my life before? I don’t want this unknown anymore. I want concrete, expected, easy. I want pretty, no scars.
Lord, do you see?
My Lottie-3 -year- old- Mae, the bravest fighter, her mother torn from baby sister to seek treatment far away. Leukemia in a child is enough, Lord, enough. But..bacteria infection and pneumonia, too? Families who love and yearn, torn from each others presence? It seems too much..
Lord, do you see?
The man after me, there for radiation therapy. The only color in his face are blood shot eyes that are hollow, but still smile at me.
Lord?
My husband, who deals with enough by dealing with me. He is sitting at table, deep in thought, while shuffling the mounting bill piles, doing his best to make them all fit.
Lord.
The statistics they scare me, why can’t I have a concrete answer? Please? Stage 3a or Stage 3b? Which one is it? It matters to me.. 70% or 39%? Why can’t I let go of the numbers? Hands grasped, closed tight. Digits grasping digits.
These dear, strong, fighting women.
Stacy, Nancy, Amanda, Stacia, Veronica, Elaine, Connie, Gina, Michelle, Heather, Monique, Jill
Women who have felt lumps, endured scans, had parts of themselves cut on and cut out, allowed chemical chemo to flow through veins and radiation to burn both good and bad cells, who felt razors and cold air on scalp, have to take pills that keep wombs empty and all the while are wives and some mothers and burden bearers for each other. Oh Lord, these women!
Lord, do you see?
So. Much. Static.
The above is enough there is so much more. Unnamed more.
Lord?…?
“Yes, Amy, I see.”
“I know you are weary, but I am not.”
I SEE. I, too, wept.
I KNOW. I, too, have scars.
I can handle your cries to me, My child.
I’m so glad you’ve come to me…
For I am the Way. The Truth. The Light.
I will make sense of tragedy.
I will be your burden bearer.
Hand over the load. I was meant to bear it, not you.
Endure, child.
You know on this earth there will be pain and trials.
It was not meant to be this way, but it is.
I will fulfill my promise to make it all right again, in my time.
This is what it is in an imperfect, sin- infested world.
This is why I sent my Son, for a way out of it all.
I gave you the words to this song in your heart.
I gave you these words years ago, knowing you would need them in these fist shaking moments.
“This is what it means to be held, how it feels..
When the sacred is torn from life and you survive
This is what it is, to be held, and to know that the promise was
when everything fell, you’d be held.”
I am holding you.
I have not promised a pain free world and life.
But, I have promised that I AM Life, the Way,
and I will be holding you every step.
These are God’s whispers to me.
I listen.
I search Youtube and find that song.
I listen again.
The static volume lowers to just a whisper and I find truth–and I am held.
{Words To Natalie Grant’s “Held”}
Two months is too little
They let him go
They had no sudden healing
To think that providence
Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling
Who told us we’d be rescued
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares
Were asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live, it’s unfair
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
This hand is bitterness
We want to taste it and
Let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly
To lilies of the valley and tomorrow
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
If hope if born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait, for one hour
Watching for our Savior
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held
Amy Bowman
March 14, 2011 at 2:35 amThank you, everyone.
Thank you for being willing to read the good and bad.
What a wonderful community you all are, I am blessed.
Theresa
March 13, 2011 at 3:22 amThat was beautiful Amy, I hope today has less static for you and that you are feeling well. I love what Karen said about your radiologist, that is just what I thought as I read what he said to you, he was your surely your blessing that day. Thank you for your insight, I will take it with me. You are in my prayers. xoxo
karen gerstenberger
March 12, 2011 at 5:19 amDear Amy, that radiation man seems to me to be an angel. I’m thanking God for him. Precious man, who sees, hears and cares for you. Each step, you are held and loved – even when you don’t feel it. May God continue to show you how much He loves and holds you.
Michelle
March 10, 2011 at 11:55 pmI too have felt the yearning to just know, to stop all this waiting & anticipation. I think its the hardest part of it all, the in between. You tell yourself if you just knew, you could decide what to do or how to deal. But the truth is we never really know much of anything, and what we know one day may completely change the next. Which for me, brought me to a point of release. Allowing myself to just trust Him & meditate on the small things that make all the difference in the chaos of my life. Praying & thinking of you often Amy 🙂 I know you don’t know me, but i want you know how much of a positive impact you’ve made on me & countless others 🙂
Annette
March 10, 2011 at 3:28 pmYou are a strong women of God. He loves you and will hold you in His arms when you are weary. You are in my thoughts and prayers everyday. Continue to look up. You are such a special person to share your journey – I am sure you have helped many others out there.
Praying for you ~ Annette
cornhusker
March 10, 2011 at 2:31 amThanks for writing this. My husband was laid off 3 weeks ago & I am so weary from worrying about our finances. But I forgot that God doesn’t get tired – thanks for reminding me.
Praying for you.
Amy
jeana
March 10, 2011 at 1:36 amOh Amy. How I pray that you are held and feel it every single day. You are beautiful.
Laurie
March 9, 2011 at 10:44 pmWow. I cried when I read this. And I had to read this twice because it was so good. So much wisdom and truth and strength in the middle of so much pain and hardship. You are amazing.
P.S. You are also such a good writer. So poetic.
P.P.S. You look hot in your hat:)
P.P.P.S. I love you
elaine @ peace for the journey
March 9, 2011 at 10:25 pmRaw and real and unedited…
So very painfully beautiful, sister.
I understand.
I’ve had my fair share of static lately.
prayers and peace~elaine
The Polka Dot Closet
March 9, 2011 at 10:23 pmOh Amy I pray for you everyday, You have a perfect right to feel this way, I wish I could take all of this from you even if for just a day to feel care free and complete like before. It is coming, hang on! We are all here for you!
Carol
The Mitchells Five
March 10, 2011 at 3:55 amthanks for sharing – I prayed for your radiation this morning, didn’t know there was greater need.
love – Mel
Ellen Dworak
March 10, 2011 at 1:48 amIt is a great thing that you write these thoughts down. Keep journaling. Hoping that the One who loves you, will let you feel that love tonight.
Sjon Ashby
March 9, 2011 at 11:35 pmI will share.
The Little Blog about kids...
March 9, 2011 at 10:40 pmWow – I have goosebumps sitting here. Praying for you every day.
Amy Kinser
March 9, 2011 at 9:57 pmI am still praying and still believing that you ARE healed.
What a beautiful lady you are with such a wonderful heart.
Leslie @ Farm Fresh Fun
March 9, 2011 at 9:38 pmOh Amy. Beautiful post. It makes me think of our dear friends and their daughter MacKenzie. You are held. And in my prayers.
hugs,
Leslie
PS- you look so pretty in those pics. Wishing you smiles to go with that great hat.