I must admit there's part of me that is afraid to write my diagnosis. Afraid to announce my surgery date. Afraid to admit that this is all really happening. But it is.
One of my childhood friends sent me a book a few days ago - "Red Sunshine" by Kimberly Allison - and just reading the few first few chapters sent me reeling. She writes:
"I feel like I am suddenly leading a double life. There are moments of relative normalcy-I am giving the kids a bath....or reading Goodnight Moon. I can cook dinner. I can dress myself and talk to people about things in general. But then I slip into the surreal world of my potentially limited future-a world full of fear and cruel irony. Is this really happening to me?"I totally get that! And although the author was diagnosed with a far worse prognosis than mine; it all hits too close to home. The book is about the journey of survival and the author is from my hometown. She went to middle school with my childhood friend that sent me the book. I probably knew the author in some roundabout way as McLean is not that big. And here we are - connected. "Red Sunshine" was not on my my Amazon Wish List. But here it is, next to my bedside table. And I can tell I won't be able to put it down.
Another book arrived from a neighbor friend - "God Calling, A Devotional Diary." More my speed. The Christian devotionals are quick yet thought-provoking and it's a great addition to my daily routine. However, it wasn't the book that touched my heart so deeply. It was the bookmark. It reads:
I have moments that I forget that I have cancer. They usually happen when I'm with my kids or at work (just too busy to think about myself) and I welcome those moments. But then the quiet sets it. Or I look in the mirror. And I know that in a short time, not only will I feel different; I will also look different. And it makes me sad. That's when the tears come. And I quickly find John to hold me together. But then there are the moments that I see John get quiet too. And I know his mind is racing too. He can't fix me. And that's the hardest thing in the world for a guy. It's a lot to take in. Thank God we have each other. But really, thank God we have a big God. Because it's still just so much to think about and being assured that, like the bookmark says, "I know you will never leave me to face my troubles all alone" is very comforting.
My faith;
My heart;
My mind;
My mothering skills;
My professional abilities;
They are all 110% in tact.
Breast cancer is just a new part of my reality.
I know that my thoughts will overflow on paper again and I will soon post more details about the amazing things that have happened over the last week; how my family, our friends, and school resources have rallied around us, the positive things about my diagnosis, the things I have learned, the people I have met, etc.
Just know this: The most amazing things that have happened are related to my children. We have been very open and honest about my diagnosis and what is going on and they have handled things with unbelievable strength, courage and faithfulness. They are rock stars and I am incredibly proud of them. But keep in mind that I went through a nasty divorce and custody battle and I have spent the last 4 years protecting my children so I realize that I have to be careful with what I "put out there." Some things I just can't share. Their privacy and well-being (their best interests in general) always have and always will come first!
