Categories
Cancer Faith

Help! My Loved One has Cancer. A Guide to Helping Those Recently Diagnosed with Cancer

When you are diagnosed with cancer, your life can feel flipped up on its end. You are having to juggle new information, with making weighty decisions, while on an emotional rollercoaster. Those first few days/weeks/months are not easy. But they aren’t easy on those around us either.

Family and friends don’t always know what to say or do when they hear that a loved one was diagnosed with cancer. You are unsure how to talk about the new life change, fearing that you’ll upset your loved one. Perhaps you send them all the latest research you’ve found on Google. Maybe you organize a meal schedule. Or perhaps you do nothing, because you just don’t know what they need.

I’ve been asked by numerous people in the last year “My loved one has just been diagnosed with cancer. What can I do?”

I’m here to give you my personal guide to helping those recently diagnosed with cancer.

  1. Weep with those who weep

Romans 12:15 tell us to “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” Be willing to sit in the pain with your friend. Hug them, tell them how much they are loved, and be a shoulder to cry on. Dealing with pain, fear, emotions, can be hard for us as people. But, when my friends simply sat in the ashes with me, crying, I felt supported and cared for. I knew that their heart hurt as much as mine did, and it made the pain easier to bear.

2. Ask the questions

Until I was diagnosed with cancer, I really knew nothing. It’s amazing what happens when you get a crash course in cancer 101. I wanted to talk about my cancer. I wanted to tell people my story and to share how I was doing. Don’t feel afraid to ask “How are you?” with the desire to really hear how your loved one is doing. And if “how are you?” feels trite, ask “How are you feeling today? How is the chemo effecting you this week?”

3. Research, but only so much

I’m not a cynical person, but y’all, we are all dying. And if you do enough Google researching, we are all dying tomorrow of some incurable disease. But, listen to me – please research what your loved one is going through. Ask what chemotherapy s/he is taking and research side effects. Research the terms, and stages, and grades. Then stop. Walk away. Unless your loved one has asked you – do not give them a list of ways to “naturally beat cancer”. Don’t tell them that you read some article and think they need to try this one supplement. Dealing with cancer is bad enough without having to second guess the decisions we are making with our doctors. So… research enough to understand what your loved one is enduring, but then stop.

4. Be a Mary Poppins

Or hire a Mary Poppins. My treatment got so bad that I couldn’t walk up the stairs in our house without feeling faint. Cleaning? Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Cooking? Ugh. Too sick for that. Know what my friends did? They hired a maid to come once a week and they brought my family dinners and cared for my kids.  Y’all. Can I get an Amen? Talk about seeing your community love of you in a big way.

5. Touch base

To this day, I have friends send me random texts letting me know they are praying for my health and that they love me. These sweet reminders let me know that I’m not alone. Even if my journey of chemotherapy is done, my journey with friends certainly isn’t.

Most importantly, don’t be afraid to mess up. Fumble with your words, be awkward. It is okay. More than anything, your loved one wants to know that you care about them, not that you have the perfect words, that you have great answers.

I heard a wonderful sermon this past weekend that taught on 1 Peter 1:22 “Having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth for a sincere brotherly love, love one another earnestly from a pure heart.” We are to love with an earnest love, a love that knows no bounds. We are asked to help carry the burden of our loved ones. We aren’t always going to do it perfectly. I mess up day after day (just ask my family).

So, if you have a loved one who has been diagnosed with cancer, weep with them, ask them questions, research, help them, and most importantly, love them as you have been loved.

Categories
Faith

Good Friday to Good Friday; It Is Finished

Good Friday, 2016 – I began my first round of chemotherapy.

Good Friday, 2017 – I finished my last round of chemotherapy.

This past Friday I finished my herceptin chemotherapy. I didn’t share much about taking herceptin because it’s a low dose of chemotherapy and quiet frankly doesn’t make me sick. After being on four different, painfully awful chemotherapy drugs, herceptin is a walk in the park.

There are been a mix of emotions with the end of chemotherapy. I am so grateful to be done, but sad to not see my infusion nurses every few weeks. I am so grateful to not have cancer in my body, but sad to not have such a close relationship with my doctors.

Today was even more mixed emotions.

I had my port removed.

PortRemoval

It seems weird, I’m sure, but I have become attached to my port. It’s become a security blanket to me. Something I truly hated, has become something I love. My port means my body is fighting. My port means I am winning. My port means cancer is defeated.

My port has become part of me. This small contraption has signified so much in my life and now it’s gone.

I processed these mixed emotions with some friends yesterday, and today was reminded by a sweet friend to take the time I need to grieve. Grieving over the loss of a port sounds odd when I think about it, but grief isn’t meant to look a certain way. So today I’m going to shed some tears for my port and all that it did for me.

And tomorrow I will celebrate my first day as a new creation – one without a trace of cancer or cancer related relics in my body.

Categories
Faith Travel

Zion National Park Half Marathon

This past weekend, I ran my first post-cancer half marathon.

Running is my happy place, and for the past year the joy of running has been robbed from me. During chemo I was too sick and tired to run (or walk for that matter) so I had to set my beloved running aside. But in August, while still in the hospital recovery from a double mastectomy and DIEP flap reconstruction, my dear friend Dana asked if I’d want to run a half marathon in April.

Obviously I said yes. Maybe it was the painkillers talking?

At the beginning of November, I started a slow, arduous training. Running no longer came naturally, but I still loved it all the same.

On April 1st, my feet hit the trails in my first post-cancer race. It was hard (altitude of 6500), the trail was muddy (so muddy that at times we had to walk single file), there was snow, and a mind that wasn’t quite sure I could finish. But finish I did.

MudZionMudZion2ZionSign

I couldn’t have done any of this without the encouragement of Dana, without the unending support of Jonathan and my kiddos, and without Christ to remind me to run the good race well.

Categories
Depression Faith

Breaking the Silence of Depression

I struggle to recall a time in my life when I didn’t fight with depression. I look back on good times throughout life; first going to college, first being married, the birth of my children, summers spent traveling with our sweet family. Each snapshot has a haze over it. Cherished, bright memories, brushed with grey. Nothing seems as sharp as it should be, as though the lens has a coat of dirt over it.

I can be closed off when it comes to my depression. When in public I tend to put on a cheery face, which leaves people wondering how I could be depressed if I’m always “so happy and smiling.” Honestly, it can get exhausting trying to feel something you don’t feel, trying to act a certain way for other people.

I’ve fought against the storm of depression for a long time. But this past November, the storm overtook me.

I took a knife to my arms then began to cut and scrape away at my flesh.

I want to tell you that I shuddered at the pain, that with marks on my arms I stopped my self mutilation. But, the hard truth is, I relished in it. I felt relief. Relief from the constant war in my head. I felt. Plain and simple, just felt, something, anything, for the first time in a long time.

Thankfully, by God’s grace, I was stopped from causing serious harm. My family and friends came around me. I spent some much needed time in a mental health facility getting help. My medication was changed, my therapist walked me through getting mental stability.

Nearly four months later, I can say that I’m in a mostly stable state. I’m on a good combination of drugs and have a therapist who points me back to Truth. While things aren’t perfect, I am grateful for my circle of friends who reach out to me on those days that are really dark and hard.

Why am I opening up now?

The other night I told Jonathan, “I can’t help but believe that I’m not the only one. I can’t be the only mom/wife/person who suffers with depression, who has wanted to die.”

My story is my story, but perhaps one of you out there isn’t too far away from what I have experienced. Perhaps you’ve reached your breaking point and don’t know what to do.

If that’s you, if you are at a point of pain too great to carry, tell me. Call me. Email me. Stop me on the corner. I’m completely serious. You DO NOT have to walk this alone. You DO NOT need to feel trapped by your own fears and depression. There is so much hope and help waiting for you. Please reach out and let your voice be heard.

You are loved and valued. I am here for you.

 

Categories
Uncategorized

The day I dyed my hair pink… Yes, PINK

I’ve always wanted pink hair. For several reasons (jobs, school, life) I’ve never had the chance to dye it pink. But, if 2016 taught me anything, it’s to seize the day.

So now I have pink hair. Pink hair

Based on the box, I thought it would be more of a hot pink rather than cotton candy. But, hey, it’s pink and I LOVE it.

I figure while my hair is short and easily malleable I should take some time to play with colors and styles.

Now, a question for you…. what color should I do next?!