The Furies

Abused, disappointed,

Raging, I come--oh, shall come!---

And drip from my heart

A hurt on your soil, a contagion,

A culture, a canker:

Leafless and childless Revenge.

                                                                               -Aeschylus, from The Eumenides


Today was a rough day.  Well, it really was yesterday, but I was moving too fast to see it.  I started the morning at the endocrinologist, where I received great news. Based on my January lab results and my scan, I was now moving on to appointments every six months! I told him I was feeling a little better as far as thyroid symptoms, but things were still off.  He said my TSH was over-surpressed by my old doctor (to 0.03!!!).  He said there was good news in this. "Yeah?" I perked up and looked at him.

"Now you know what being on cocaine is like..."

I like that he sees the bright side in everything.  Honestly, he told me that pending my blood results, he's excited to see I'm coming along. He ordered more TSH levels to see that I moved appropriately to a level of 1-2.5 (should be to about 2 by now). He also rechecked my parathyroid hormone and my calcium levels. He was trying to figure out what was contributing to the pain in my leg and other bones throughout my body, as well as all of these odd things.

I stopped to get my blood drawn, made small talk with the phlebotomist, and headed back to Tullahoma for another appointment.  By then I was exhausted from the driving, waiting, and talking about important things, but I tried to perk up. This was my therapist, after all, and I knew that it could get ugly if I walked into the room in a bad mood.

I would say the appointment went well. I was still feeling good from being told that my appointments were being stretched out, and I felt that for the first time in a while, I was able to get a handle on things. For anyone that thinks it is a picnic to be home and recovering, I'd like to paint a different picture for you:

There are some days where I have to muster all of my energy just to get the kids to school and remember what they need. It will exhaust me to take a shower, and the bone pain of standing, walking around the house, or heaven-forbid taking a walk outside can be enough to bring me to tears. On the days/weeks when I have all of the energy in the world, I get things done at record speed. I have all of these exciting plans, and I am active in everything. The problem is I can't really feel pain during that time, so I tend to overdo or injure myself, and not even notice until I resume my normal level. It's confusing, but I'll sum it up as saying it can be hellish.  I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

But I was excited that day, because as I left my therapist and headed home, I'd be picking up Carly and babysitting my niece and nephew! They were in town from Washington, and I'd be watching them while my sister-in-law got her hair done. I was admittedly tired at that point, but I knew seeing their smiling faces would make it all go away.

Right before they arrived at the house, I got a phone call. I knew it was from my doctor's office, but I wasn't too surprised. They are awesome, and tend to call me to fill me in as they get lab results.  This time, though, the nurse's voice seemed a little more concerned than usual.

"Hey, Michelle, how are you feeling?"

I told her I was fine, and getting ready to fill the house with tons of little ones.  She wasn't up for small-talk.

"Well, Dr. Kistka wanted me to call you because we got your TSH levels back. Your TSH is STILL under the reference level, which is pretty abnormal. You are taking 112mcg of Synthroid, and your TSH is still at 0.45,  It should have been at 2 by now."

I didn't really know what to tell her. I had seemed to get a crash-course education in thyroids over the past year, but I didn't know anything about the other glands and what they did.  So, I just waited for her to resume talking.

"Dr. Kistka is worried about pituitary dysfunction."

At that point, I did interject, asking her what that even meant. I knew where the pituitary gland was (in the brain), but didn't know what this had to do with a person with thyroid cancer.

"Well, your PTH levels have been abnormally high for months, and your calcium isn't regulating. We don't think this has to do with your surgery, but may have just revved it up a bit. Your pituitary is in charge of all of that, and when something throws it off, it can make your whole body a mess."

Another question from me, "well, what threw it off?" I didn't have a lot of time for small talk; I had company walking through the door in a few moments.

"A tumor."

GREAT.... I hadn't heard that word in a while. I don't think it's a word you get used to hearing.

Now, keep in mind that a tumor on the pituitary gland can be tiny and still wreak havoc. All it takes is a small growth producing hormones and pressing on important things. I suddenly thought of the visual problems, the tremors, the abnormal heartbeats, all of the calcium issues and those side effects. This all might make sense, but it still wasn't what I wanted to hear.

She told me I was lowering my med dose again, and I thought to myself "this was almost the dose I was on when I actually had a thyroid??? What's going on with me?"  I thanked her for her help, and she told me she'd call me when they got the other results back.

Shortly after that call, the company did arrive. They served as a pleasant distraction, and I was able to put everything out of my mind for the evening. When my head hit the pillow last night, I was OUT. No room for thinking about the past or future.

The Furies hit this morning. I got up to take the kids to school, and then drove to run and errand. My mind began thinking about this path over the past few years, and all that has happened. Did the brain injury cause the growth in the brain? Did the endocrinologist miss the parathyroid adenoma? That scan was only 50% successful in finding tumors? The old endocrinologist seemed quite incompetent, so it seemed my natural reaction to be doubtful.  Were the visual problems caused by all of these things? That doctor was audibly gossiping about each patient in the hallway, and he even cast his negative opinion on me.

I didn't want to dwell on the past, and I don't like to be negative. Still, I wanted to round up all these doctors and scream, "WHY COULDN'T YOU HELP ME? WHY HAVE I LIVED THESE PAST FEW YEARS WITH MORE QUESTIONS THAN ANSWERS? AND MORE PAIN THAN COMFORT???"

I imagine this to be a bit of serendipity, or divine intervention. I had thought about The Furies, from Greek tragedies. They were females with one thing in mind: revenge. They would find those that had wronged people (criminals in their minds), and drive them to their own suicides through extreme despair.

I would like to interject here that I am NOT advocating suicide or revenge of this sort, only that I had remembered The Furies, after I mentally lined up all of those health professionals that had wronged me.

So I sat at home this evening, lying on my heating pad and hoping to finish a book before tomorrow. It's called "The Body Broken," and it's an absolutely lovely book. For anyone that wants to know what my life is like, or what the life of a friend or family member might be like that lives with chronic disabling pain, then this is the book to read. It's fantastically written, and it's like I am reading into a mirror.

So, I chuckled aloud when I came across the passage on The Furies. She had that "break" too! She had a moment when anger took over, and when she realized just how much comfort and time these people had stolen from her.

This moment was interesting for me (on what I felt today, and also what I read). You see, I never wanted to be vengeful; I always insisted on keeping a positive attitude.  In the wake of a student attack, people marveled at my positive outlook. When I took 37 pills JUST TO EXIST after that attack, I just thanked God that I survived. When I looked back at the crap I endured with my marriage, I said "I am just thankful, I got out, and that I can move on!" And when I got cancer, I was quick to say "thank goodness it's just thyroid cancer!"  Seriously, was my head in the clouds?

The people around me cheered on my bright attitude, but they must have known that it doesn't last forever.  Or maybe I fooled them; I did a pretty good job of fooling myself for a while.

But there's something that happens when it's a struggle to move your body off a heating pad without tears. This same body that ran miles and carried babies and loved yoga. And for a person that people joked would "get more done before 9am than most people did all day!" I was having a problem with taking a shower without losing strength some days.

My physiatrist gave me a thoughtful look when I "almost" cracked one day. I told her how hard this has been, and how I'm tired of not having all of the answers.  She told me it seems I do have a lot of answers, they just aren't cures. Unfortunately some of this won't go away for the rest of my life. The key is learning to manage it.

Yes, that's very insightful, but she needs to follow me home and see how pathetic I can be. I suck it up and give a brave face for most people around me, but inside I am dying to survive some days. I am not trying to throw a pity party, but I guess this is the first day I've really felt that first spark of vengeance, and of the feeling that I've been wronged. I feel like they've stolen time from me, with all of these wrong assessments.

Part of the problem is that doctors have ego issues. I think they all do, when they get into a job of playing a God of sorts. When they don't see the answer quickly, they do this thing where they casually imply that the patient might be overly stressed and her mind is creating things. I wasn't dumb, so I picked up on these comments. Then the next appointment, they wanted to screen me for depression. How many times did this go awry?

I complained of swallowing problems, and people thought I was stressed. I had thyroid cancer instead.

I complained of having foot pain, and continued to wait tables for a few days. They said maybe overworked? After the x-rays, they saw I had broken several bones in the foot.

I went to the hospital with TIA's, and was told all of the things to look for next time. The neurologist questioned me on stress and depression, wanting to blame all of my symptoms on that. Instead, it was a clotting disorder and very abnormally-thick blood causing the TIAs. Go figure...

So I wasn't a fan of hearing that same stuff. I know that after pain and illness for this many years, there's no doubt some emotional help I could receive. I was already getting it, and the therapist was telling me to trust my instincts.

I guess instead of being one of the furies, I have become more of a woman that feels she has to scream to be heard. I don't want to hurt anyone else, or cause them despair.  I just want them to listen, and believe me to be a competent woman with a decent head on her shoulders.  Trust me, I WANT to be out there laughing and playing with my kids.  And on the many days that I do push myself way too far, I don't want to be miserable for days afterward.  I try to keep positive, but I guess these setbacks always make it hard for me to handle.

And when the word "tumor" pops up, that word can bring me to my knees.

A Step in the Right Direction

Last week I finally heard back from my new neurologist. I had already seen the hematologist about the blood clotting issues, but had been waiting on the referral to the new neurologist. I got the call, and nurse told me "right now, we are looking at 9:30am... on May 29th..."

My heart sank.

I knew that there are tons of people out there that have issues, but I also wanted to make a plan so I could get my life back on track. I told her that would be fine, but asked if I could be on a cancellation list. She told me that was fine, and I will hopefully hear something a lot sooner than May.

On Monday morning, I was home with Alex. I had cancelled my physical therapy appointment because he wasn't feeling good, and we were about to take a rest. I got a phone call from the nurse, asking me if I could make it to the neurologist on THAT DAY at 1:30, since she'd had some cancellations.

YES!!!

I told her I'd make it work, and would have to bring a kid with me. I was SOOOO excited, even if that didn't leave me time for a shower. I never like to go in public "undone," let alone meet a new doctor that I have to convince I am not crazy. I did my hair and slapped on some makeup, and we headed out the door.

I was having trouble over the past week, where even when I went to sleep at night I could watch my body spasm and twitch about. Sleep had gotten interesting, and I really just wanted some relief. While I surely didn't think I had a ticking time bomb sort of issue, I was about to lose my mind!

I arrived at the doctor, and filled out fifty seven pages of medical history. I pretty much told them everything that every happened in my life, which has been a challenge to write since my handwriting has gotten funky. I remember thinking to myself "I need to type all of this so I can just hand them a copy, and make multiple copies of that." I also remember thinking I would look really cool handing a booklet to my doctor. Hypochondriac anyone?

But once you've had cancer, they kinda expect you to give tons of info. And if you don't, they ask you TONS of questions anyway. So, I am thinking the booklet might be a good plan.

The nurse was incredibly friendly, and told me Alex was fine to sit with me. I could tell he was nervous, because he opened his water to drink it and spilled it all over the floor. Without missing a beat, she handed him a few paper towels, and told him it was only water. I appreciated that she did her best to make him feel at ease.

I was a bit nervous, meeting a new doctor and all. I was also nervous to talk to the doctor in front of Alex, because I don't want him worrying about me. The good thing about Alex, is he has the ability to hyperfocus. It can be really bad when you are trying to get his attention, but it was fantastic when I was conversing with the doctor. She even giggled when he made motor noises while playing his game, because he was completely oblivious to her in the room and our serious conversation.

The doctor: when she walked in, I was a little nervous. She looked nice, but she also looked extremely professional. I had thought back to all of my doctors I've seen, and I have had some doozies. Unfortunately, that makes me a bit skiddish when meeting new docs. I just didn't want her to think I was crazy, because I was tired of my issues being belittled. The truth I have learned is that if I am a male with the exact same issues, I would be taken seriously. Because I am female, sometimes they play the "hysteria" card, and blame it on hormones or mental illness. It's a sad world in health care when doctors play this game. They threw that crap on me the week before I found out I had cancer. One minute I am just crazy; the next minute they are telling me I have cancer, and apologizing. Nice...

So, I answered her questions, but I didn't want to divulge too much info yet. I didn't want to run her off. She seemed nice enough, and she was really thorough. She started with the hospital event in December, and went over that info with me. She made a plan for the stroke care, since she said it was probably a Transient Ischemic Attack. It sounds like the same thing that happened in 2009, and she was glad the hematologist was looking into the cause. With infertility issues that may have stemmed from this clotting problem, and the TIAs, she decided that I needed to remain on long-term aspirin therapy, and look at minimizing other stroke risk factors. Fair enough. We talked about those, and got a plan squared away.

I was already beginning to love her, because she was actively making a plan. I had concerns, and she was validating them and making a plan! No finger-pointing or whining! Just matter-of-factly telling me what we had to do, then asking me if I thought that was a reasonable plan.  Then she moved on to the other issue...

I was really nervous to talk to her about the tremors, I guess because I get emotional about them. I really didn't want to cry in front of the doctor, but it happens when I have to tell her how embarrassing this has become, and how it has affected my personal and work life. I could already feel the tears well up as she started asking me one hundred questions. When I started telling her how I shake when I write, when I type, when I put on makeup, that's when I started to cry. I realized that everything I do to get ready, to be productive, to be a human being, is now affected. I told her how even when I sit and watch tv at night, I feel the twitching and spasms, and see parts flop about. 
She told me it sounded like I had rest tremors and tremors with activity. I agreed, and told her that has been what confused me. I seem to overlap with the Essential Tremor and Parkinson's Disease diagnoses, and that confused me. I explained all of the family members that had both ET and PD, and told her that essentially there was a "whole lotta shakin' goin' on." She really appreciated that comment, and her giggle lightened the mood quite a bit.

She asked me "why on earth has no one tried medicines for the tremors?" I told her how people observed them, but either shrugged them off as anxiety or told me I was crazy. I know I've had stress in the past, but this has gone on for too long, and it's gotten a lot worse! She told me that wasn't a very smart plan, and she wants to start me on meds right away. The only way to know if they will work is to try them, but she wants to start me on the most conservative (and cheapest!) drug first. She wants there to be benefit, but not at the expense of side effects, or building up a tolerance to meds early in the treatment phase. She told me that meds should help me function easier, and that I can work on exercises to build up my strength and balance, until those start giving me more trouble. Essentially, she let me know that all of this will progress, but a proactive approach will help me function independently for longer. I liked the sound of that. 

She also wanted ALL of my records from all the other doctors, because she wanted to sort through everything and see what they were searching for. With the swallowing issues that required esophageal stretching at the Mayo Clinic, she wants to make sure that wasn't related to the swallowing problems of PD.  The balance issues that have caused broken bones and injury sound like they've been linked to it as well. I had to wonder what would have happened if I had met her five years ago instead of the other twenty doctors. I guess we can't go back, and it's really worthless to think about all of that. I'm just glad I've found her now.

So, I started on propanolol, and I went ahead and started a more aggressive dose. This is used to lessen the tremors, and decrease the anxious reaction they are causing. It's actually a beta blocker used for people with heart issues. She said it was a good first choice because it didn't have a lot of side effects, and it was cheap. I just have to be careful of standing up too quickly- sometimes the blood pressure can take a dive, and people pass out. I think I can remember that if it means making a difference in my daily routine! She said I could feel results fairly quickly, but to give it a week or two to really gauge its effectiveness. She asked me if it was reasonable to meet back in two months to see how the treatment is working, and for me to promise I will get an opthalmology evaluation and talk to my sleep dr again. PD has sleep problems associated with it, and she wants to make sure we are all on the same page.  I hadn't been to the eye dr in a while, but have had some vision issues associated with both the TIA and my daily life. My left vision has been blurry off and on, and she said that very well could be creating that nausea feeling, and the headaches I sometimes get. She wants to make sure everything is intact from that perspective, and I am grateful that she's on the ball.

So, after getting back into Tullahoma, I stopped by and picked up my new meds. I was a bit leery that a drug costing $4.25 a month could be the answer to my worries, but I gave it a shot. I took a pill and went about my evening routine. I really didn't expect much of anything to happen.

I did feel a bit more relaxed about life. Honestly, I didn't give a flip what happened that evening, which was kinda nice. I didn't feel drugged or anything, but it seemed like things moved slower. It wasn't half bad. I couldn't tell if the tremors were less, or if I just didn't care... LOL

I headed to bed at a reasonable hour, and woke up at almost 7am!! WHAT??? I had slept almost 10 hours and didn't wake up! That NEVER happens. Ok, I did remember waking up briefly one time in the night, because I was having really odd dreams. On Tuesday morning, I did a little research and found out that was one of the commonly reported side effects (vivid and sometimes strange dreams). 

Day 2 was pretty decent, but I found myself sleeping quite a bit during the day. That was a little strange since I had slept so long the night before, but I was wondering if I was finally catching up on sleep.  Tuesday night, I was asleep by 9pm. What time did I wake up Wednesday? 7AM!!! ANOTHER 10 HOUR NIGHT!!!

Of course, I woke up once or twice from strange dreams again- nothing scary, just very realistic and odd. I can't remember them now, but they were worth waking up for.  Today I had to go meet someone for lunch, and I was a bit nervous. This was the first social opportunity since starting the medicine, and it gave me an opportunity to see the meds in action. I've been getting anxious because I don't want to look odd in public, which I am sure makes everything worse. Well, the thing that makes it worse is when people point it out (which happens EVERY DAY). I really didn't want to look out of place, and I practiced my hand-holding I do to make it look like I am thoughtful instead of shaky...

I took half a dose earlier in the day, and the other half an hour before lunch. I wondered if the dose was what made me sleepy the day before, and I didn't want to risk that with the driving to Murfreesboro. So, I figured the split would lessen the blow of the meds. 

I am happy to report that lunch went well! Either I didn't care about the shaking, or it really did help! Or, my lunch mate was just too polite to ask... LOL  It was nice to be out and be social, even if it did mean I had to sit and worry about this issue for two hours. At least I was getting out there and living life! And because I am like Garfield and love me some lasagna, that's what really pushed me to go... ;-)

We'll see what happens over the next few weeks. I meet with the hematologist next week to come up with a plan for my blood, and I go back to see my orthopedic surgeon to address my healing of my knee. I am supposed to start back to work the week after that, if I am about to get a handle on my health. I want to balance a medication that makes me safe and productive, with the ability to be productive at work and do what needs to be done. The reality is that teaching special education requires 150% alertness and physical function, and that's what is making me apprehensive right now. When I take a med to increase my physical ability, I am sacrificing alertness. At some point, I need to make a decision about what's best for me and my career. Unfortunately, I've always been the provider and never got to worry first about my health and comfort. Right now, as a single parent and provider, I am trying to be thoughtful in balancing my well-being with the well-being of my children. Pray for me on that aspect.

What I'm really hoping for is some time to make a plan. The whole reason I created this blog was as an extension of my project I did for turning 30. I still had goals that I wanted to complete by 40, and I guess I've been lax in making a plan about getting anything done. Maybe the best part about facing my new reality is knowing if I want to reach those goals, I need to plan on sooner rather than later. That's probably true for all of us, so I guess it's a good thing to realize now. :-)

Tremors

When I hear the word "tremors," I think of that really bad Kevin Bacon Movie that had those strange reptile-like creatures that attack a town. I guess that was all the attention I gave to the word, until the past few years.

Back in 2009, when I had Carly, some strange things started happening. I had always noticed my hand had a sort of tremor to it--people always commented on how I didn't need to be nervous, and I was always confused because I had no idea what they were talking about.  By 2009, apparently they were noticed enough to be called something. I had some issues with tremors and with weakness, and was given the dx of essential tremor. I had never heard of the term, and when I googled it, I only really got a clear picture once I saw that Katharine Hepburn had it, and that wasn't a great picture.  Essential tremor is often familial, and I had a feeling it was a fairly accurate diagnosis once I noted to the doctor that both my mother and grandmother (her mom) have the same tremor that has gotten pretty bad. Awesome...

Flash forward a few years. I dealt with a pretty significant injury, recovery from injury and illness, and returned to work and got a divorce. Life had seemed to smooth out, but it wasn't without notice of the tremor. During the time of my injury and illness, some of the symptoms were not as noticeable because I was on so many medications (and probably I was so drugged I didn't take note of the symptoms!).  It was really in the past three years that everything really got worse.

I remember having students constantly commenting about my hands that shook when I tried to teach and write on the board, and how much work it took for me to write neatly and hide these issues. I remember going in to meetings and knowing my hand was going to shake violently, so I would position it under my notepad or between my legs. I remember all of these things because I had to pay attention to my symptoms just to get by. I didn't want to deal with ANOTHER setback, so I just ignored it and coped the best I could.

It was during the past couple of months that I really began to notice it again. I had low calcium levels after my thyroidectomy, so they had been blaming my floppy and shaky hands on those levels. The truth is, my hands are pretty consistent no matter what the levels are doing at the moment, we just gave the calcium all the credit for causing such grief.  We looked at medication side effects and any other reason that this might be happening. Never mind I had already been told what it was a few years ago.  Maybe I just wanted someone to explain it away; to give it a reason that could be solved by a simple exercise or a pill. Not that I wanted an easy answer, but I didn't want to get a diagnosis in which there wasn't much at all that could be done.

I have had the tremors and spasms for quite some time, and also some issues with my balance. I have to wonder if that's the whole reason I broke my leg and tore my ACL in the first place- my balance has been TERRIBLE.  After having a nerve block for my surgery, it seemed to awaken the spasms and tremors in my left leg, which has made dealing with recovery absolutely terrible. I told the orthopedic surgeon about my issue, and was assured that it happened to many people as their nerves learn how to wake up again. That didn't explain the years of issues in my hands, and the domino effect of spasms through my body.

I went to therapy last week, and have been progressing pretty well. I was given a fairly simple exercise in which I had to use my balance on one leg to bend over and touch a ball to the top of a cone. It wasn't a very complicated task, but I couldn't do it. I became so frustrated, that I spent about 20 minutes trying the task before I FINALLY made it to ten successful attempts (and that was the therapist calling number 10 "successful" because he was tired of waiting). I guess until that moment, when I was almost in tears because my brain wouldn't let my body complete a task: THAT was when it all hit me. My body doesn't do what I tell it, and it terrifies me. There are tears streaming down my cheeks as I type this paragraph.

The first thing I think of is writing, oddly enough. I have had a little bit of a hard time with typing already, and have just had to do it in small doses. But handwriting has been another issue. Since I've been out of work, I haven't had to write nearly as many notes or paperwork that I normally do, so I didn't really realize the issues until I was trying to fill out a form at a dr's office. NOT pretty. I also noticed that I used to write in journals OFTEN before bed, to get my thoughts out before sleep. There's dust on the journal, because the last time I tried to sit and write my thoughts, it took too much effort to make the words look right.  That's something I really like doing, and I stopped doing it.

I don't want to sit here and complain about my life. Really, I'm not. I read a book by a woman with ALS, and she typed the entire book using the Notes program on her iPhone. She used one finger to type an ENTIRE book, and I seem like I am complaining about not being able to journal about my day's events. It's not that--I guess I am coping with the realization that something's off, and my life's not going back to normal. If essential tremor is the only diagnosis at work here, it's progressive. There's things that can help, but it doesn't mysteriously disappear. It often gets much worse.

Just looking at how I feel today, and what I have attempted to do in a fairly stress-free setting, I am seriously concerned about returning to work and back to the pace I maintain there. I am supposed to be visiting a new neurologist in the next couple of weeks, and I hope she will give me some advice on how I can maintain my independence. The major tasks haven't become a chore, but some of the fine motor things have gotten hard. Sitting and punching out paper dolls for Carly isn't really something that HAS to be done, but it is something I want to be able to do, and it's something that I don't think should take an hour to do. I want to be able to open doors and jars, and unbutton my own pants. I like the fact that I can go to the store, get the items I need, and bring them hope and put them away. I don't want to give up my independence, and I guess these changes have made me realize how important that independence is to me.

The intention of this post, I guess, is to give you a glimpse into my world. As awesome of a life that I have, with cute kids and a great supportive family, it can suck at times. There are days when I am exhausted because my muscles spent the night before hopping about, leaving me feeling like I've run a marathon. There's so much I want to do with my kids and for my kids, and it hurts me when my intentions can't meet my actions. And yes, even though life is grand right now, I am scared about the future. I am already sad that my children have had to endure a divorce, an absent father, and a mother with cancer. I really don't think they need to carry any more for a while.  I think they'd like a period where everything is calm, and mommy feels good. I push through and participate in activities, and hope that my body will recover in the night. It just seems like my days of making up for things are running out, and I am now paying the price for overdoing it.

I do have hope though, and that can be a very powerful thing. I know that I am a smart and resourceful person, and I'll use my abilities and resources to get me where I need to be. I have an incredibly supportive family that tries really hard to make sure that we are taken care of, and I have friends that offer support in many different forms. I know that there are worse things that can happen in life, but honestly I also know there are better things too. I guess I just have to maintain that hope in my future, and the faith that everything will work out alright. I already have two of the coolest children that I've ever been blessed to know, so I guess I'm ahead of the game. :-)

Pancakes, Biopsies, Stars, and The Bridge

Today started out in a rather blah state. I have gone through night three of no sleep, so as you can imagine I am REALLY TIRED. The kids had off school for MLK holiday, so we packed a few adventures into our day.

Our first stop was really tying up loose ends. I said I hated doing it, but I guess it had to be done. So, the kids and I headed over to the park to retrieve a few of my items from my latest Boyfriend (man #12, whatever you want to call him...). The irony struck me- the fact that commitment of introducing kids was too much at this point, but they can sure as heck meet now that we are broken up and I am getting my shampoo back! Ah, I imagine that's probably a rant for another time, and I'm really not even up for it then.

So, after the kids played for a while, we headed over to the craft store to get some supplies to take to Aunt Lisa's. I had to keep explaining to Carly that we didn't have to go on a plane to Michael's, because we were going to the craft store, and not my brother's house in Washington. Trust me, there were many tears shed for that problem...

On the way to Michael's, Alex requested a song in the car. I have decided that he has the coolest taste in music, and he can usually pick things that match moods. His request: "Living on a Prayer." Ok, this time I knew he just liked this song, since we have already had to hear it in the car four times this week. Toward the end of the song, when the bridge came along, he put his finger in the air and yelled "mom!!! What's THAT called?"

I asked what he meant, and he said the part where Jon sings "you live for the fight when that's all that you've got." The bridge. I asked him what he thought those words meant. Out of the mouths of babes....

I think he's saying it's hard living like they are living, but they keep doing it because they know it will get better. And they have each other.

Well, if I die tomorrow, I will rest easy knowing my son understands classic rock ballads...  He asked me what other songs had the bridge in them, and I explained that it happened in MANY songs. Luckily, the iPod was cued up and ready, so he was able to hear a variety of songs that had good examples. I am sure there are a million other examples, but my iPod only has a few thousand.

His observations:
1)  Apparently the 80s left a lot of guys lonely, because many of them were dealing with the loss of a woman.
2) He wants to know if writing a song is how you both get a girl, AND get over breaking up with a girl. The fact that you can do both with a song confused him (and I didn't dare bring up the movie Say Anything- he'll have a trench coat in no time).
3) He loves Glass Tiger, and "Don't Forget Me When I'm Gone" is a new favorite...

So, it was a nice moment talking about music, and about feelings. Alex can be a bit quirky, but he can have some incredible moments of clarity. I really enjoy those moments, when everything seems to align and we have a really good conversation.

I dropped the kids off with my aunt, and went to a doctor to get some biospies. I ended up having to get three done, and right before I typed this, I stared at the gaping hole of one of them. Apparently they aren't too concerned about the lack of ANYTHING covering the wound? I think I'm going to smack a bandage on there for safe-keeping. They numbed the spots, but told me the real discomfort would kick in a few hours after, when all the numbing agent wore off. Well, I am 4.5 hours out, and I can tell you they were RIGHT.

When I left the appt, all I wanted was pancakes. I think it was just hearing the doctor say "these are the options for results, and it can be up two weeks to find out." Hearing those words AGAIN made me want pancakes. So, I headed back to retrieve the kids, and took them to IHOP.

Now the kids swear that they have never been to IHOP, and they LOVE it. Carly loves that there's a world map, and she can sign the continent and oceans song, and everyone claps for her. Alex likes that he can break out of his shell a bit and try a variety of syrups. I loved just seeing them so darn happy this evening.

I don't know if I have ever seen my children eat pancakes with that much enthusiasm. Alex CLEANED HIS PLATE. Carly even started working on part of my chocolate chip pancakes. I even had to mentally check to see if I fed them lunch, since I hadn't seen them eat like this in a long time (trust me, I had!).  They thanked me profusely for taking them to eat pancakes, and made me promise that we could bring Nana and Papa here when he gets home.

Back in the car, we were FINALLY headed home after a long day. The kids fell asleep after a few minutes, and I was left to listen to music, look out the window, and think about the day. It has been one heck of a day- really one heck of a weekend. I always think better with some perspective, and perhaps this drive was giving me what I needed. I switched stations, never fully committing to a song. I was out on the bypass in Shelbyville, and I looked up at the sky.

The sky was breathtaking. I rarely see the sky so clear, and with such fantastic sparkly stars in the sky. I looked behind me, and saw that there was no one behind me. So, I veered off the road onto the shoulder, and put the car in park.

Now, I am not one to park on the side of the road for long, because I know there are odd people in the world. Of course, anyone that saw me parked probably thought it was ME that was the odd one. But I did lean against the car and soak in all of that beauty. My kids were both in a pancake-induced stupor, so they didn't even open their eyes. I thought about the extremity of emotions over the past few days, and how that always leaves me with more questions than answers. I always enjoy taking moments like this, because it really shows me that some of our trivial issues don't matter in the grand scheme of the universe.  I really need to realize that sometimes, and I need to realize that life goes on no matter what I am doing.

Life has a way of continuing, no matter how stuck we may be. I thank God daily that I am aware of my life, and that I am an active participant. Sure, there may be rough days, but I like that I acknowledge my part in the grief and make steps to move on. I firmly believe that you don't realize the brilliance of the stars without the contrast of the terrifying darkness.  When life is being particularly dark, the good thing is that it can point out those few twinkling stars among us, and if we are smart we will grasp hold and never let them go.

On a night like tonight, it was calming to realize that there are forces at work far more powerful than my own being.  I liked feeling that everything was going to be ok, and that I could trust that life would go on despite me.  Sometimes I have to realize that I think WAY too much about things, and sometimes that can be a curse. So, after a few more seconds, I hopped back in the car and drove home.

When I pulled into the driveway, I looked in the rearview mirror at my little creatures in the back seat.  I knew that no matter what happened in the next twenty years, I would put my life on hold if it meant keeping them happy; I would do it in a heartbeat. I also knew that when I found the right fit, I wouldn't have to keep anything separate.  Then I realized that in a couple years' time, this idea won't even be something I think about. Life will find a way of moving on, and Alex will probably be asking a lot more questions about love songs...

Been a Long Time, Stranger...

The thought occurred to me last night that it has been a while since I've been writing on here.  When I looked at the blog, I realized just how long (and I think I cried a little). Why has it taken me so long, and why have I had a hard time thinking about what to write?  Get ready, you are about to read a flood of thoughts...

As you probably read, I had thyroid cancer in the spring, and treatment in May. I was home for a week-and-a-half, then went on to teach summer school.  By the time July rolled around, I was TIRED. Seems the idea of working full-time through the surgery, withdrawal of meds, and even with the treatment was catching up to me. I just wanted  a break, so this was a logical time to schedule for both kids to have their tonsils out.

Yes, BOTH kids, on the SAME morning. When I scheduled the appointment, I wasn't aware that my mother would be traveling with my father to China during that time, or I would have rethought my strategy.  Needless to say, those few days post-surgery were ROUGH on all of us. I was thrilled when they finally started feeling better.  By then, it was time for school to begin.

I started teaching elementary special education in Coffee County schools. I was the Math Resource teacher, and I was enjoying working with younger students again. I missed the enthusiasm and love that occurs in an elementary setting. I enjoy being greeted each morning with a dozen or more hugs.  My heart was happy!

The day I returned back to work from Fall Break, I stepped in a dip in a store parking lot. It wasn't enough to cause anyone else harm, but I heard a loud crack. It hurt a little, but not enough to make me miserable (or so I thought). So, I walked on it and did all of my work duties for a few days. By Wednesday, I was MISERABLE. The doctor talked to me and looked at the x-ray. He smirked and said "well, I imagine it WOULD hurt- it's broken!"  He wasn't sure what other damage occurred in my leg, so he wanted scans. I'm going to make a long story short for you: I ended up with surgery a week later, and have been out of work going through rehab and dealing with discomfort. I ended up with an ACL reconstruction, and they cleaned up a lot of other damage in my knee. The good news is when all of this healing is finally complete, I'll have a fantastic new knee. But for right now, it's been a struggle.

For people that know me, you can imagine how hard it is for me to be stuck at home most of the time. I am a people person, and like talking to even strangers I meet. The greatest challenge of all of this has been in making sure I get out and communicate with people, even if it's for short stretches of time. I don't want to cut myself off from the world just because I am uncomfortable. That's the recipe for a disaster.

That brings me up to mid-December, and I can say with 100% certainty that I am THRILLED for 2013 to be almost over! I am convinced that next year will be much better, and I will be able to move forward with many different endeavors. My leg will be further along healing, I got news from a scan a few weeks ago that I am cancer-free, and I've had some time to put a few life issues in perspective. I do want to comment on this project (the purpose of this new blog), but I'll save it for the next post.

Making Changes

Everyone makes goals, and some people accomplish them. I could be hard on myself, and think about all the times I've stopped working toward a goal. I will give myself some credit, and realize how many times I've set my mind to a goal, and got there! 

That being said, so many things have happened in the past seven months. I've gotten a bit off track, but I guess cancer is as good a reason as any to get off track. With thyroid cancer, the whole body is affected. I will take a moment to describe the thyroid and cancer, before moving on with my changes:

The thyroid has a lot of really important functions for the body.  I did not really know this until I was left without one! The thyroid is in charge of metabolism, heart rate, body temperature, and other hormone regulation. When a person doesn't have a thyroid, they take a pill (like Synthroid) for the rest of her life.  Without a thyroid or medication, a person will die in about six weeks.

In preparation for the radioactive iodine (RAI) treatment at the end of May, I had to go off Synthroid for five weeks. The goal is to starve the body of thyroid hormone, so that when the radioactive iodine is introduced, the body will suck up the iodine and try to convert it to hormone.

By the time I made it to the RAI date, I was barely alive. At the end of May, Tennessee is smoldering. I was still wearing a fleece coat every day, and was chilly. I was always sleepy, and if I sat in one place too long, I would fall asleep. It was an effort to make it through the day. My doctor was mystified when I told him I worked until the day before treatment, and I wondered how I even drove myself to the cabin after I took the RAI pill. 

My primary concern throughout this process was to get rid of cancer. My second concern (I'm almost ashamed to admit) was that I would gain back the weight I had lost when I moved to having zero metabolism. It's sad that this would be such a concern, but as a person that dealt with such issues with weight, and after losing 115 pounds, I was determined to keep off the weight.

Luckily the low-iodine diet that I had to eat for a few weeks before treatment (and a few days after) helped to keep me from packing on the pounds. When you have to make everything from scratch, can't eat dairy, and limit a lot of high-calorie items, the weight doesn't seem to be as much of a problem. From the moment I had my surgery until I took the RAI pill, I gained two pounds (YAY!!).

Once I took the pill, I had to go into hiding for a week. My children were at risk of damage to their thyroids if they were around me for the first few days, and if they had prolonged contact for days after that. We thought the safest idea was to let me be alone. I slept twenty hours a day, drank a lot of water, and watched movies. Nothing tasted right once I was able to eat normal food again (anything with tomatoes or carbonation tasted like poison, and nothing had a real flavor).  I also had nasal and mouth sores, so that kept me from eating unless I had to. Fortunately, I guess, my weight leveled out and the two pounds were gone.

I started feeling decent around the beginning of July, but lacked the energy to make it through the day. My doctor added Cytomel (T3 med) when I was told to go back on Synthroid, and I credit this addition to helping me more than anything. I read that many people function much better with this addition than with simply increasing the Synthroid (I am now at 150 mcg).

My taste also returned around the end of June, though some things are still a bit off. I was able to eat again, but I wasn't able to make it through a normal day of activity (which is what burns calories). Unfortunately, six pounds creeped back on.

Six doesn't seem like much, but for a person that lost a lot, it could all come back starting with six. This morning I woke up, and realized today was the beginning of the change. It was time for me to get things arranged so I could feel better, get healthier, and lose the weight to get to where I need to be. The reality is that I am about 30 pounds from my goal weight, and that isn't far.  The stress of dealing with testing for recurring cancer is also getting to me, and at least this is something I can control!

So, today, July 18th, is the first day of this change.  I don't want to be hard on myself, but I do have to have some accountability. That being said, I've come up with a few goals I want to keep track of:

1. I will report progress online three times a week. (I know it's unrealistic with my energy level to report daily. I will, however, keep a log of my progress daily.)

2. I will drink at least 10 glasses of water daily. (I have always found this to be the most important goal in feeling well, keeping yuckiness away, and losing weight. Water is important!!)

3. I will plan my meals the night before, so there are no surprises.  I will also allow myself two meals a week to relax a bit (but not go overboard!).  Everyone is different, but I know I do best when I am following a plan. And it always helps to plan ahead, so I know I am actually eating. I have a bad habit of realizing I haven't eaten anything at 1pm (because I have to wait an hour after Synthroid to eat).

4. I will experiment and try some new recipes and meals. The key to sticking to something is not getting into a rut. I need to broaden my tastes anyway, so this will be a good goal!

5. Increase my activity!! I am going to log 150 minutes of activity a week.  This is only 30 minutes a day, 5 times a week.  It can be anything- walking, riding the bike and watching a show, taking a run, or doing some heavy yard work. Anything that gets me moving!!  I will worry about refining my workout goals later.  For now, I just want to move!!!

I know that 30 pounds is a pretty significant amount of weight, but it can definitely be done. Increasing my activity and watching what I eat should do well to help me along my goal.  I'd like to see myself reach the goal by the end of the year (December 31, 2013), if no more major hiccups come along.  That's a steady goal of about 6 pounds a month, meaning 1.5 pounds a week.  Being that this goal runs through the holiday season, I will have to be extra vigilant.  The advantage, I guess, is that I will be losing or maintaining during that season, instead of gaining like everyone else!! :-)

I'll keep you updated on my progress. I know that healthy eating, activity, and taking time to reflect will only help my lifestyle. Stress can no longer take over my life, and these changes will hopefully put me on the right track!

Finally... An Update...

I realize I disappeared for over a month. I guess there was a good reason...

I didn't turn on my laptop for just about that much time. And when I don't turn on the computer, I rarely type. I even realized that I wasn't answering text messages like I normally do.

I was severely hypothyroid, in preparation for the Radioactive Iodine treatment on May 24th. I had to go off the medication for 5 weeks, which means without a thyroid, I was bottoming out.  And honestly, I don't really even remember the drive to the treatment, or part of the days afterward.

I knew I had to be away from the children for a week, because they couldn't be exposed to the radiation that was coming out of my body. So, my parents took care of the children while I hid out in the cabin.  Like I said, there are holes in my memory, because I was running on empty. What I do remember?

I remember showing up to the hospital to receive treatment, reading ten pages of forms and signing my life away, then being handed a tiny capsule to swallow. I thought to myself, "this is IT?" then I was pushed out the door to start my drive to the cabin.

Actually, my endocrinologist quoted Eddie Murphy from a movie, THEN pushed me out the door to get down the road. And he warned me not to throw up in the car or on the side of the road, because that would be a nuclear accident. Fantastic...

I slept for about 19-21 hours of the first three days. I knew I was overtired, and I was in the darkest room for sleeping. It was a good thing that I had slept so much, but I was also worried that I wasn't monitoring myself like I would like. I knew I was alone in this, so I at least had to be aware if something was wrong.

After a few days, I was going stir-crazy. A few friends had wondered how it would work out: an extrovert like me being stuck in the woods alone for a week. I could be around people on day 4, I just couldn't be around little kids for extended periods. So, I went for drives, stopped in little shops for short periods, and twiddled my thumbs until I could go home again.

I did have a few adventures along the way. I scoured my favorite used bookstore (McKay), and found some books to read for the remainder of my stay. I picked up a natural living newspaper, found an ad for a pizza place, and decided to go visit.

The experience? I came into Lupi's, marveled at the tree sculptures and psychedelic twinkling lights on the ceiling, and decided to try something different. It was definitely something out of the norm for me, and I decided to embrace the experience.  My taste was also altered because of the medication, and so I wondered what would even taste normal.

The whole experience was anything but normal. It was a good experience, don't get me wrong. It was some of the best pizza I'd ever had. But listening to a man from suspected Polynesian descent belt out the lyrics to an old Elton John love duet under a disco ball, while twirling pizza dough.... This wasn't my typical pizza experience. I wondered if the medication was changing my perception, and then I realized I always notice stuff like this. I sent a message to my friend Robin, telling her briefly of the experience. Her response: "I'd love to see the world through your eyes. Even these brief glimpses are a treasure."  I love that my life amuses her...

I hate malls. I can't stand how everyone is darting around in different directions, and it seems that people believe their agenda is the most important. Heaven forbid I get in the way of a lady trying to get to a Hollister sale.  Nevertheless, I missed seeing people and I needed to go look at something.  So the final two days, I spent my hours wandering around the mall looking at things. Actually, the mall is a pretty decent place in May- there's no real rush for anything.

I finally got to return home, and was thrilled to see the kids. I was also being watched because my calcium levels were still dipping. At this point, the doctor started to wonder what was going on. I was under a lot of stress, which doesn't help calcium levels at all. So, I had to start going to get blood work again, and we started to wonder what was going on with my body. My parathyroid glands were looking great, so this left some confusion about my body. 

I looked pretty good, considering I was going through cancer treatment. Still, I felt miserable. I had sores down the inside of my nose and throat, my tongue was swollen, and my neck was tender. I couldn't taste food, and some food even tasted poisonous. I was incredibly tired because I had just started back on thyroid hormone medications, and it would take a while to get back to normal.

So, I did what any normal human being would do... I started teaching summer school. Through all of this, I have to remember I am a single parent and the one that is ultimately responsible for the care of the kids. So, I take any opportunity to build up additional income, knowing they are getting their tonsils out in July, and I will be the parent that has to pay for the surgery up front (and wonder if I will receive half back...).  Summer school only has one week left, so I guess we could say I survived.  I could make it through the days better if I wasn't so TIRED. I wake up exhausted, and spend twenty minutes mentally preparing myself to get out of bed. I know that in a few more weeks, my thyroid hormone will be back to normal and I will feel like living again. I can't even imagine how nice it will be to feel normal. 

I'll make an effort to catch up more at a later point (but soon, I promise!). I guess even typing and trying to remember things can wear me out. I have a lot of thoughts I wrote down in journals or on post-its during the past few months. Once I get a chance to convert them to normal human language, I'll make sure I update this post. :-)

Graduation

I sat here tonight and stared at the computer screen.  I told myself I would be done with this project by last night, so I could give the seniors their gifts at the picnic.  Yesterday came and went, and I tried to give myself an excuse ("I'm exhausted" has been the latest one, because it's mostly true!). 

The reality is that I didn't do anything, because I didn't know what to write.  Or rather, I didn't know if I should be truthful to them.

My idea was to give them a journal to record the next year of their life, and I would write them a letter in the front.  But how do you write a touching and sentimental letter without sounding like a total sap, without making them cry, and without throwing in the "I've seen what's really important, and trust me- a lot of what you think is important isn't!!"

I want them to get out there and make their own lives, and I want them to take the chances and make the mistakes.  That's where memories come from! If life goes perfectly as planned, there aren't a lot of great stories to share with others.  Still, I was a bit guarded about what I needed to write.  I took a moment to think about my high school graduation (which took forever, because no one warned ME to write things down!).

I told my mother after remembering, that I had a frontal lobe that developed way before everyone else.  Her response: "you and your frontal lobe..."  I love my mother, and the fact that she laughs at my response.  The reality is I couldn't remember much about graduation, because I guess I knew there would be more important moments in my life. I remember that I wore my ruby slippers to the ceremony (when the rule was to wear black dress shoes). I remember that the picture of me shaking the principal and superintendent's hands while receiving my diploma feature their disdainful looks while looking down at my shoes. :-)  I remember realizing that college was a reality, because there was no more high school left for me.

So I guess I felt doom.  Expectations were out there, and I wondered if I could hack it.

No one told me to LIVE THEN. They told me to get out there, set goals, reach them, and have a great life. They didn't warn me that life was happening while I was trying to REACH the goals! No one warned me that whether I went to college for one month or ten years, that life was still going to happen; and that many of the things that happened to me were chance.  And no one told me how bad regret would feel--how when I really took a good look back at that time of my life, I regretted not taking more chances.  I was too terrified of failure- that the balls I was juggling would come tumbling down if I didn't keep up the pace.

Well, guess what? They came tumbling down.  And I turned out just fine.  And then I realized that, if anything, I wanted to warn the people that came after me.  To let them know that it's ok to have big dreams, that they can achieve them, but that they need to include fun and experience along the way.

And without sounding like some downer or an overly spiritual person (in light of my current situation), I wanted to let them know that they shouldn't plan to live to be 100.  Because they might stare in the mirror at age 30, and wonder how (and if) the next year will turn out.  And then they will REALLY regret all of these chances they didn't take.  And the retirement account they tried to create, or the savings for "when I live my life" won't really matter.  And THEN, they'll wish someone told them.

So, my gift to these students? Yes, it's a journal and a letter. But really, it's a challenge.  A challenge to get out there in the world and LIVE in it.  To take risks, to make memories, and to record them.  I don't want them to fear the world around them, and I want them to get out and explore every piece of it they can.  And what happens if they fail? At least there's a story to tell.  Heck, some of my best stories were from my failures.  And I wanted them to know they don't need to be afraid to love. These really are my two big things I want to leave behind in this world, and a good start is in 30 journals to new adults.

Graduation is a cool thing in the metamorphosis of life; it symbolizes both an ending, and a new beginning. I guess everything is cyclical, but there are few great moments that are publicly celebrated as both.  For us introspective folks, we can always see this reality.  For new graduates, I imagine this duality is terrifying.  I know great change is only scary when people focus on failure.  When we see all the opportunity, and aren't afraid to fail, that is when we LIVE.

I also brought up my list I created, and how I have really lived more in the past two-three years than I did my whole life before then. I don't want them to feel the same way- I want their lives to start now.  I can't control the future, but I can inspire it.

Last night we had the picnic of the National Honor Society, and all of the attendants were seniors. One member asked me, "is your treatment after graduation?"  Earlier yesterday, I had the doctor call to try to schedule my treatment to start on graduation day. I know it sounded trivial to him, but I told him I couldn't miss graduation for treatment.  I wanted to say goodbye before I moved on.  And I have a feeling this student was feeling the same way.

I know that I have every possibility of making it through this treatment with little after-effect, and going on to live a relatively normal life.  I also know there's a possibility of recurrence, or that my body will never be the same after treatment (that's the risk I had to weigh).  And I know it was these thoughts that made it hard to write the letter. I tried not to capture the urgency of my final words, or something crazy like that. I wanted a message of hope, and something to inspire them.

Not something to remember me by.... I'll leave my manifesto for that. ;-)

Yes, I'm Quoting Sartre and Bon Jovi Together...

In Jean-Paul Sartre's work, Existentialism is a Humanism, I found the words: 

        "...man first of all exists, encounters himself, surges up in the world – and defines himself afterwards."


Take a good minute or two and let that sink in.


And my friend, John Bon Jovi mentioned something of similar lines...

       "you live for the fight when that's all that you've got."


Yes, I just compared Sartre in a roundabout way to Bon Jovi.  I feel like if I explain, I will weaken my association. But, to keep from being called crazy, here goes...


I was thinking yesterday about how I existed all of these years, but only really LIVED for the past two.  I know I can dig up all sorts of quotes on finding myself and taking risks, but that's not really the point.  I have been around for thirty years, there's no doubt.  It's these constant encounters with myself--the grit and glitter that I am made of-- this is when I finally figure out what defines me.

I am not saying I felt this inspirational all weekend. In fact, I had a HARD time. The exhaustion is setting in, and I have moments where I want to sob.  I am so tired of being so tired, and extremely exhausted from keeping all the plates spinning in the air. 

"This is the good type of cancer to have."

"There's a great chance of no recurrence."

"If you can be sick, this is what you would want."

Excuse me, but who the hell says this stuff?!?

I know people are trying to be comforting in their own strange way, but I don't tell a person in a wheelchair "at least you don't have your legs chopped off!"  And I don't tell people with disfiguring scars from catastrophic events, "at least you are still alive."

Because I know that these words are ridiculous, and don't validate the pain they feel.  It also doesn't validate the struggle they are enduring, and maybe this is me entering the "angry" phase of grief.

And this is where Bon Jovi comforted me, this morning while getting ready for work.  They were on the rotation for Shower Music, and I took a good look in the mirror when I heard the words "you live for the fight when that's all that you've got."

And that's exactly how I am feeling right now. I am in this because I have nothing left. And as my friend pointed out very bluntly today... "it's better than the alternative..."

And I wanted to hug her, and thank her for not sugar-coating it.  :-)


I have thought a lot about my purpose in life, about why I was sent here and what I am supposed to do before I leave. I am not saying I am getting all my affairs in order, but I do want to make my moments with people count. Heck, none of us knows when our time is over. I just got a bigger jolt of this reality.

Right now, I feel like these strange and terrible events in my life have been my "surging up in the world." Each event, both during and after the encounter, defines me. I guess I'd like to think that my grief and struggle are forming me into a tough cookie. But not too tough--when you see the world, and all of it's beauty, and wonder how many more sunrises you will see in your life, I dare you not to shed a tear.

I was talking to a student the other day about the speech she will be giving at the Awards Night, as well as at graduation. I told her about a song that came out around graduation time when I graduated high school. It was entitled, "Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen."  If you haven't heard it, it was written based on a speech to a graduating class, and it gave all the wisdom one older person wanted to share with the youth.  I have attached a clip below:

http://youtu.be/sTJ7AzBIJoI

I have always known that I wanted to teach two things to my students--first, to encourage them to take risks and go out and find things they are passionate about.  The second thing is to not be afraid to love people around you, and tell them how you feel. People are so ready to tell people negative things, and to crush dreams of those around them.  There aren't many people out there that are itching to take risks, make mistakes, and love the people around them without fear of being hurt.

After watching the video, and reminiscing of my youth, I decided I wanted to write something to my seniors (and juniors really, because they need to hear this).  These students have been with me for almost two years, and I hope they've learned SOMETHING through their time with me.  Graduating high school is quite a big deal--it's the start of opportunities, risks, and LIFE.  I kind of feel like I am sitting on the other side, thirteen years later, looking back and seeing what really mattered.

So, my project for the next week is to write my words of wisdom.  Will they listen to it all? I hope that it strikes a nerve with them, or at least that it's something they tuck away for later (to see if I was right!).  Regardless, now is the time to tell them how fantastic they are, how much possibility lies before them, and that most of the mistakes they make really won't matter in the end.

It seemed like a daunting task, but then I thought to myself:

"If I can bring Bon Jovi and Sartre together, I think I can handle this..."

:-)

My Outlook

     Well, it has been the better part of a week before I posted. I have actually attempted to make this post two different times, but never completed it.

     On Friday, I visited the doctor and learned that he removed the one cancerous tumor. He said my chances of survival were pretty good, and I will be getting radioactive iodine treatment. He was pretty casual about it, but I made it to the hospital before the nurse called me. My calcium levels were still low, so I was getting my blood drawn AGAIN. I hated that the people at the hospital now knew me by name...

     I was told that the endocrinologist wanted to see me Monday morning. They wanted me in QUICKLY. I agreed (because I didn't have a choice), got my blood drawn and headed back to work. I started feeling progressively worse as the day went on, and at about 2pm the nurse called to tell me that my calcium levels were as low as when I had problems in the hospital.  I could tell something was up, because my muscles were twitching, I had terrible cramps in my legs, and my face was shuddering. They adjusted my supplementation again, and I went home to rest. 

     I will say I barely made it home. I felt absolutely miserable. I don't remember much of the night, other than talking to a friend for a long time. He did a good job of distracting me from my discomfort.  I called the doctor, and he told me to take more meds. I went to bed finally, hoping everything would sort itself out.

     The weekend was easy-going. On Saturday, we had a tea party for Carly's guest (a friend from school). By Sunday, I didn't leave bed except to make a cake in the morning. I was absolutely drained, and there was barely enough energy to eat. If I could have operated from bed, I would have been happier. I was a bit worried about how the week would go if I felt this bad on the weekend!

     Monday came around, and I had to move the appt because of a work meeting. I arrived in the afternoon, to find that there was definitely cause to remove the thyroid. There were multiple nodules that looked strange, and the cancerous mass. I knew I did the right thing, but it helped to have more people back me up. They told me my schedule for the radioactive iodine, and went over how the withdrawal of thyroid hormones would work.

     I told the doctor that I had gone through hypothyroidism before, and I knew what it was like. She laughed... HARD. She told me she saw and heard about my symptoms, but that my levels were never significantly below the appropriate level. In short: she told me this was going to be BAD. She said I had a great outlook, but to prepare myself for the worst. I was going to have ZERO energy, muscle pain, hair issues, my voice might get weird, and I will be moody. Very, very moody.

     I took notes, and headed home. Well, actually I headed BACK to the hospital to give them MORE blood, then headed home. As I walked into the hospital, I saw on the news that there had just been a bombing at the Boston Marathon. I remember looking at the news, and wondering if this was a sign of some sort. It seems like there's always something, and it saddens me to think that there's so many people that don't value how precious life is.

     I got home and intended to write about the experiences. I had been trying to write for the past few days. I guess my body finally became less vigilant, and was finally able to rest. I also tried desperately at work to get a lot done, because I knew once the medication withdrawal started, it was going to be a rough road. It would be better to get everything done, then I could sit back and enjoy the end of the year.

     I'd like to say it's been easy the past few days, since I am recovering nicely. In reality, I barely get home from work, and am in miserable pain. I make it home wincing in pain to get through the doors of the house, and it's a battle to get everything done for the evening. I am just praying for Friday to get here QUICKLY.

     Last night, before I fell asleep, I was thinking about the future. I thought about plans to get me through the summer, plans of what would ideally happen in the next year, and even where I wanted to be in the next ten years (the purpose of this blog). I also realize that I am a fantastic planner, and wanted to have plans around for things "just in case." I guess the fact that I can even write about all of this without crying tells me I have a certain level of detachment that is necessary to cope with all of this mess. I am definitely not saying things will go bad--I just realize that the POSSIBILITY is out there.

     I also thought about my friend Scarlett, and how she told me this is one more thing I will conquer.  I thought about all of the stuff I've been through- attack, TBI and long recovery (wheelchair to walking and running), abusive relationship and getting OUT, raising two kids on my own while working and trying to normalize their life, even surviving an attack in college. Suffice it to say, if I come to it, I will go through it. I guess cancer would inevitably make its way onto that list. Gee, when I look at the list, I can see why I intimidate men. ;-)

     I'm not as verbose today as I was last week (can you imagine? this is short for me!). Tonight, I have a lot of thoughts swirling in my head. I know that I need to sort through these before I can write, but I also wanted to let you know where things stand.

     I have yet to tell my friend Jere about this situation. I am usually quick to tell him about everything. I just don't want him to worry, because he is an oncologist. He has dealt with great success stories, and he's had terrible stories to tell. I have always wanted to be one of the good stories he tells. :-)

     Alex lost his first tooth last night. I was so excited, because he has been looking forward to this milestone for weeks now. I felt a twinge of anxiety, because I saw how important it was to see this milestone. I had already been fully aware of these special moments, because I wondered how some people would choose to miss them! I realized that now he's losing a tooth, and won't be my baby boy for much longer. He'll be graduating kindergarten, sailing through grade school, and will be graduating in 2025. It won't be long before he has his career and family. And I hoped and prayed to God, in the ten seconds it took me to think of all of this, that I would be there to get the call from my grandchild, telling me he lost his first tooth! It's moments like these when I realize that a lot of great can come of my life. I also realize it is terrible precious and fragile, and I need to enjoy it while I can. 

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

     This has been a Psalm that's been on my mind quite a bit lately. I am mystified at my life, and I know my friend Robin talks about how I can make hugging a trucker in a parking lot sound magical. I am so grateful I have that ability, and can see the amazing in the ordinary. It makes me appreciate really how much awe and amazing is created in every moment, and I am grateful for all of these experiences that have added so much to my life. Our trips around the sun are really too few, no matter how many years we get. They key to all of this is finding a rich life, and appreciating that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, no matter what our religious path. No matter what news we receive, or day we have at work. No matter what ideas are floating or pounding or swirling around in our heads. We all need these moments to center us; these moments where we lie on the driveway and stare in awe at the dark universe.

     And for me, I was always the one to watch in awe. I will say there's an added glisten to all of these ordinary moments. I feel like I am seeing things differently, and really seeing how fantastic our world can be. Maybe that's the best gift I could receive right now, when terrible things happen and so many people are fearful. I know my place in this world, and my purpose as well. It is to inspire change, and to show love. If I can say I've done these two things every day, then I've served my purpose. This is really quite a feeling of contentment, and one that will ensure restful sleep tonight.

The Waiting

I always hate the night before news. It can be good news or bad, but I always end up anxious, and I usually end up too introspective.  Although, as I've talked to people, I wouldn't trade my overthinking for anything. :-)

Tomorrow I meet with the surgeon to talk about the pathology results, to remove my stitches, and to hopefully make a real plan.  I will say that I have had the absolute best experience with Dr. Jeffrey Paffrath in Murfreesboro.  At first, when I was coming out of surgery, I wanted all of the answers, and I wanted them NOW.  He has been incredibly thorough, but he has also let me deal with each piece one at a time--he ensured I made it through surgery and had a night's rest before giving me the diagnosis, he told me we will talk more and needed to focus on calcium, then he has called and worked with me consistently over the past week to get my calcium back in an acceptable range, and now we deal with the next part.  I will say that his confidence in dealing with all of these issues has put my mind at ease quite a bit.  And for a person that has had her world turned upside-down, I will say that was quite a relief.

I will go ahead and tell you a few things I've observed over this week. First of all, the song "Live Like You Were Dying" should now be on my forever banned playlist. And right now, I get a little teary watching the sun rise and set.  I am not sure where I'm going with that, I've always liked both the rising and setting of the sun. For some reason, it's just too much for me right now.  But that brings me to a real point...

My aunt posted a little bit ago, in response to my last post. I am annoyingly positive, and I always have to be DOING something. This helps other people that are in crisis, but it does usually leave me exhausted if it's my own trauma.  I was speaking with a friend last night, and he said something interesting. We were talking about leadership and personality styles, and how different people were. I told him I wasn't sure where I fit- I didn't mind leading, but I really enjoyed supporting others.  He had an interesting thought: he said that I have thrived in the leadership I have had, but these were positions I had out of necessity. I didn't seek them, but I needed to be able to survive, and so I made the best. I think there was quite a bit of truth to it. As much as it looks like I am Rosie the Riveter, I'd rather be the supportive June Cleaver. But the opportunities such as these have yet to arise...

Which brings me back to my original point, pertaining to my fantastic Aunt Carol: she told me to be who I am, to look for that support, and to go through these stages of grief.  I know she's right. The truth? I am in tears as I write this... It's a delicate balance between maintaining control and losing it, and when I am a mother, and a teacher, a daughter, a friend, and a supporter to others, I worry that I won't be at my best. And I worry that once I fall down, it will be really hard to come back up. Or, I won't.

I like having plans- they comfort me. I know this seems like some colossal joke then, because none of this situation really has a plan. But in an effort to operate low-energy, I do feel like a plan would help. And I feel like a plan would also let me let others help me. I know so many people ask how they could help. I don't want to inconvenience people, and I also don't know what to tell them to do. I realize now they feel as helpless as me about all of this.  Maybe with some direction, we'll all start to make it through.

When I came home from the hospital, I had to sit the children down and explain to them what had happened. It's traumatizing for young children to have their only available parent disappear to the hospital for an extended period (though my parents were absolutely GREAT to help out!), for mommy to come home a whole day later than planned, with a giant cut and stitches across her neck, and for mommy to tell them that the doctor took cancer out. I hugged them, held them, and told them I loved them dearly. I told them the doctor got all he could, and will give mommy some medicine to take in a few weeks that should eat up all the rest of the cancer cells. For children that knew mommy was just going to have an operation and come home, I know this was a lot to handle. For a few days afterward, we were all in a fog. I admittedly lost my temper easily, they cried a little more than usual, and it was really just a miracle we are all sane now.

Last night, Alex, Carly and I sat on his bed and talked about all that had happened. We had been talking over the past days, but I know the kids didn't really know what to ask. I didn't push too much before, because I didn't know if I had the energy to answer the questions (or even the answers!). Last night, I went ahead and asked him if his extra crying was dealing with mommy's cancer news, or that she's been sick in the house. Even with the help of my parents, he's sensitive to me, and seems to react when I become ill. I figured that was the reason for the moodiness, and I was right. What I found in the conversation, is that he is just like me.

He wants to help, and he needs to know what to do. We talked about ways he can work on responsibility, help mommy around the house (which gives her more energy for fun things!), and help him relax about his worries. I answered their questions, told them everything will be ok, hugged them and kissed them, and we went to bed.

I think most people are like Alex, and when they know what to do, and have a purpose in the situation, then they feel calm. I am convinced that's why churches send food when bad things happen. When life hands you lemons, then send cakes and casseroles! It's sweet how people try to ease the burden of others. It restores my faith in humanity every time I see it.

I have seen a lot of that over the past few days at school. When you teach, you are part of a pretty tight community. I will admit that I felt like an outsider when I moved to the area last year, but they quickly welcomed me. Through this year, as the tests have moved toward the direction of surgery, people have been more quick to check on me and help in any way they could. When I got the diagnosis, and I told my family, I was comfortable enough to tell my boss, because he's that easy to talk to. It made it so much easier to know it was out there, and I didn't have to sit and worry about what I would tell him. And when I returned to work, over the past few days, people have been fantastic. Students have been honestly wanting to know how I have been doing(and though it's really public, I haven't shared the specifics with many outside those that I teach), because when you see teenagers for most of their day, you become family. Coworkers have stepped up to cover my classes when I couldn't make it through the day, and I will be honest: I was grateful when my boss looked me in the eye Tuesday, knew I wouldn't make it through the day (or the next few hours), but allowed me my stubborn pride to give it a shot. The last thing I wanted was to be babied. True, I didn't make it, but at least I wanted to give it my best shot.

This might all seem like rambling, and it probably is. There have been a lot of thoughts that have been floating in my head this week. There have been great thoughts, fantastic memories, and thoughts of what I want to do differently in the future. I have started to relax a bit, which I think will let me start to move through these stages of grief a little easier. 

I definitely don't have the answers, and I really don't even have a lot of the questions right now. Sometimes I feel like I am wandering around blindly, feeling for a light switch. I feel like if I can just turn the light ON, I can start to make sense of everything. The truth is I am wondering if the light would even help. This might be something I have to feel, sight unseen.

I feel like I want to say some things, but I also feel like I shouldn't go there. I am a firm believer in letting people know how you feel about them, but I also don't want to be a crazy person that leaves my manifesto. I am by no means giving up or acting sappy. But I do think that it's a good time to acknowledge important people in my life, and all they have done for me. We don't say kind things enough to each other, and I want that to end with me now. So, here goes (and this list is by no means exhaustive- it's a work in progress):

My mother- I want to thank her for being an incredible rock. She has been strong and steady, and seems to know what I want to hear. We bicker, but that's because we are so alike. We also have more fun laughing than two people deserve to in a hospital. I am grateful she has been here to support me through this week, and really for the past years of my life. No doubt it has been a roller coaster; she has always stood strong beside me, helping me stand up after each defeat.

My father- He is such a good man. I know he is lost in this situation, because there's nothing he can really do. He looked at me Tuesday, when I looked like death. I was crying before work, because I didn't know if I could do it. He told me, "You can do it! You can be a hero right NOW!" Carly quickly corrected him, that I didn't have a cape... But he has been the most fantastic support to my children, a wonderful father, and a great role model of how a husband should be. I am thankful for moving back home, and getting this chance to get to know him better.

My brother- He moved away to Seattle to follow his dreams, which makes me more happy than anything. I am insanely proud of him, and will tell anyone that will listen. He's a fantastic friend, a great father to his children, and he really stepped up to provide a lot of support to my children when they needed it the most. I have always been close with him, because whenever we moved, we were all we had. I remember sitting in the same room, him playing video games and me reading a book. I was always comforted by his proximity. I also remember the time I paid him to wear my high heels and break them in for prom... Watching him playing video games with his legs crossed and navy blue pumps was priceless. ;-)  We still have a great sense of humor, and I appreciate that I can call to talk when I need to. And that when we go awhile without talking, it's ok.

Allison, my sister-in-law- She started dating my brother when they were sixteen, so I have known her for almost half of her life. She has always been warm, loving and supportive, but is also incredibly honest with me. I love that we can talk honestly, and still communicate well. And I also love how much she loves my children (as I do hers!), and how much she has done to help them become great human beings!  She's a great mother to her babies, and a great friend. I love her very dearly. :-)

Robin, my best friend- When I moved home to Tullahoma, I was reunited with a friend from high school. I was never a big fan of being female friends, but Robin definitely proved me wrong. I remember meeting her for coffee, and having her say "why on earth haven't we been friends all along?!?" Because I knew that God had a plan, and he knew when we needed each other. He knew I would need someone that cut through the BS, and someone that pushed me to follow my dreams. He also required that this same person keep me laughing constantly, and always go home from our meetings in happy tears. I am so glad that such a transitional period in my life was met with such a good friend. 

Scarlett, my other best friend- I would say, that for a woman that doesn't have many female friends, I was blessed over the past two years. I am beyond thrilled to have Scarlett as my friend. She has been a great coworker, a wonderful lunch buddy, and someone I can be completely honest with. I appreciate her insight, the fact that we are both moms and share thoughts on this regularly, and how appreciative she is of my trying to help. :-) I am truly blessed to work with someone that has the interest of her coworkers, her students, and her friend at heart at all times. And when we went to the special education convention together, she stayed in her own bed. That owns her bonus points. :-D

I don't want this to go on all night, so I will be sure to continue these posts. I want to tell all of the people around me how I feel. I don't think they are wasted words of affirmation. I assure you I am not high at the moment--I just know that I enjoy hearing kind words. I know that this is one gift I can give others right now.

My final words...

I have two beautiful children, Alex and Carly, that are my world. I do think if they were not in the picture, I would have already given in, and wouldn't have left the bed. I love them fiercely and wonderfully, and can see so many beautiful, wonderful things in their future. I try so hard to be a good mother, and I am happy to hear and receive so much love in return. I remember being pregnant, and having many talks with God. All I wished for with each baby? 

I wanted a child that would show so much love to the world. I was convinced that two children that intensely loved those around them could be the greatest change I could make for the world. And I am determined to help them grow, to keep that passion and fire burning bright, and to show plenty of love to all of those around them.  I am proud of their compassionate, empathetic souls, and know that I have left such a beautiful legacy so far. 

The tears are drying, and I'll assure you there have been plenty while typing this post. I needed to get out a good cry, and usually the only way I can do that is by writing honestly.  I certainly don't want anyone to feel sorry for me, but my hope is that through my honest writing, you will get a gift as well. I am a person that has quite a big wall built around herself. I think it's time for the wall to come down. It'll take time, but this will be the best way to do it. So bear with me, and know I will be writing often.

And to end, because I am a geek at heart, one of my fantastically favorite quotes. Seems fitting about now:

“I went to the woods because 

I wanted to live deliberately, 

I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, 

To put to rout all that was not life 

and not when I had come to die 

Discover that I had not lived.”

 

-Henry David Thoreau

 

And no, I will not be camping anytime in the foreseeable future... LOL