Let Me Be

I spent my evening in the Penn lobby, sobbing over a TV show.

Yes, you read that right. A TV show.
But if you know me at all, I cry about everything when it comes to movies, TV shows, and even sometimes commercials.

Tonight my TV show of choice was Parenthood. This week was episode two of the 3rd season. The premiere last week set this season to be a very emotional one.

All within the last 3 minutes of the show (with no words, but sad music) one of the main characters (who will be known as *Janet for those who watch the show and haven't seen it yet) had a doctors appointment, had a mammogram, got the results, positive for breast cancer, and then cried in her husbands arms to end the episode.

Now I bet it doesn't sound ridiculous that I was crying, right?

I remember when I very first heard the word cancer come from the doctor's mouth. My mind completely left the room and I felt like my mind was spinning, and that is how it portrayed *Janet when she found out.

So the episode I watched tonight consisted of her having appointments, scheduling surgery, meeting a fellow cancer patient, and lots of crying. Which in turn led to me crying a lot.

But the thing about this episode I really appreciated was the amount of reality that this show portrayed.

The moments in the doctor's offices, the moments waiting for treatment surrounded by people like you, the moments in which you don't know what to do but cry... Those are real, genuine emotions.

*Janet went to a doctors appointment in which she was told that she would have to be getting her Sentinel lymph nodes removed along with get a lumpectomy to make sure that the cancer was not in her lymphatic system...all doctor language that screams loud and clear to me.

She then started seeing a counselor and finally scheduled her surgery with the doctor that they were second guessing.

At the end of the episode it shows *Janet is sitting on her bed and calls her husband over. She says, "I'm scared" and his instant reaction was, "Oh hon, it's okay to be scared" and she sternly replies

"No, stop.

I need you to let me be scared.

I need you to stop always telling me that it's okay and that everything is going to be alright because right now, I don't feel like it is going to be alright. And I'm scared and you need to allow me to feel that."

I cannot express to you how much truth was said in that statement.

I have been so fortunate to have people in my life that are encouraging me to feel exactly how I feel, and express that. And they allow me to do that without sugar-coating it.

Most people don't counteract my feelings with any positive remarks or saying "Well everything will be okay."

Because honestly, I am with *Janet in the sense that I don't know if everything will be okay. I am scared. I have surgery in a little over a week and there is so much unknown that makes me nervous. I have completely shoved my face in my studies in order to push my emotions to the back, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I have not balanced that with giving any space for myself to be honest with others.

I am tired and I am scared; even when I have a smile on my face.

Unknown Road

Recurrence.

It's every cancer patient's worst nightmare.

Something that I truly believed would never be the case for me...
But as of 2 days ago, I was proved wrong.

I sit here in tears after having just torn down my paper chain countdown out of frustration. The end seemed so near. I just celebrated 4 months (partial) remission last weekend and here I am fighting once again with the unknown of it all...

Gripping tightly to His presence.
Drawing close to His nearness.
Believing that He is still good.

I think one thing that makes this just a tad bit easier is that I have been here before.

I know what it feels like to be this scared.
I know what it feels like to just want to scream.

I keep getting told over and over that I am strong, but why don't I feel that way? Why is it that I feel like I used all my strength last time around? I feel like I have been stripped of all hope.

But maybe when that hope is gone, that is the place where I can experience a hope that is greater and more present; stronger and more sure. That is the hope I need to cling to.

The hope of His love. The promise of His goodness and coming justice sustaining even in the midst of this unbelievable trial. Hoping for good outcomes does not compare to the hope of Him and His love and goodness prevailing through all outcomes.

I can only hope and pray that He is glorified in and through all of this, even when I feel distant.

I need to believe in myself, and that no matter how long the road may be, I will continue to stand because HE is so much stronger than this road.

No matter how twisted it is.
No matter how muddy it is.
No matter how dark it is.

He walked the road first, and He is with me in this.

Making a Difference

Something that I have challenged myself to do lately is to continuously seek out opportunities to do intentional acts of kindness. I think sometimes we fail to realize how much the little things really matter.

My love language is Words of Affirmation, give and receive (although physical touch is in a close second), so to me something as simple as an encouraging text, a card, or a "you're awesome!" can brighten my whole day.

I have 2 boxes on my dresser that are full of cards that I have received over the years. One of my boxes is all of my things from my cancer journey and the other box is everything else.  I think I started saving them once I got into high school.

This all started when I heard about Make-a-Difference Monday my senior year of high school. I would intentionally go to the Starbucks drive thru so that I could pay for the person behind me. This was always my favorite act of kindness because of the anonymous factor coming from both sides, but that was quite expensive. So when I stopped doing that coming into college, I feel like my acts of kindness just stopped.

I am changing that this year though. I am constantly looking for people I can bless in some way. Whether I know them really well or not, I want people know that there are people who care and willing to be of encouragement.

I have sent flowers anonymously to a friend that has been so supportive in this hard season of my life. I sent a gift card to someone who I have never met, but have been incredibly inspired by because she is going through a tough battle herself. I saw someone that I don't know but know her name, crying in the quad the other day, and sent her an anonymous card in campus mail to let her know that she is loved. Last night I was extremely exhausted, but I stay up an extra hour writing out 12 different cards to people I think are awesome.

I do these things not because I want recognition of any sort, but because I want others to know that they are valued, cared for, and loved. I do these things because I am a firm believer that even the smallest act of kindness can completely change the way someones day is going.

I am writing this post because I want to challenge you to make a difference, too.

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around."

The Invitation

It was 6:17am in the morning that my phone alarm started going off.

My first thought was how I needed to change my alarm tone. So annoying.

My next thought was processing out in my head how much time each thing I needed to do this morning would take, just in case there was a possibility that I could stay in bed for at least 10 more minutes.

Then I realized the whole time I sat there processing that out was my 10 extra minutes.

I grumpily rolled out of bed. I felt like I just fell asleep! 

Luckily I showered the night before or else I would be running super late.

I got dressed, threw my hair back, and was ready to start the day.

Still feeling half asleep, I stumbled out to my car to head to work. 

If only I had not laid in bed those extra 10 minutes, I could have had time to get coffee before work!

After work, I went and sat at a coffee shop. I have been all about getting some "me" time to start each day. I sat there for 2 hours reading the book Love Does by Bob Goff (if you haven't read it, here is where I am telling you that it is a must!)

Every chapter is a story within Bob's life that exemplifies how secretly incredible life can be when you allow yourself to step into the spontaneity of God's leading in your life. 

You start to understand that the love of God expressed through Jesus is so much more than a warm, fuzzy feeling towards us. The love of God does so much–it saves, it restores, it renews, it hopes, it perseveres. Only because of the love of God are we able to live and love the same way.

Reading this book has challenged me to look at the small things in a whole new light; each thing has the potential for loving in a way that does something meaningful, lasting, and significant.

My newest challenge has been realizing that sometimes there are things that I don't need an invitation to. 

For example, living life fully.

Maybe that is an invitation that we all turn down too often; that I turn down too often.

Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my own routine that I turn down Jesus' invitation to participate. I need to start having things matter to me enough that I can just stop thinking about them, and do something about it.

What if I were to look at my annoying alarm clock every morning as an invitation? An invitation to "live a life of complete engagement, a life of whimsy, a life where love does."

Finding the Balance

I'm in a funk... Well, at least that's what it feels like.

Between being an RA, having 17 credits, working, starting my internship, and still having to make the commute to Portland for doctors appointments at least once a week... I have had a hard time finding "me" time in the crazy season of life. 

I feel like I have been going through the motions, pushing any situation to the back that I fear could make me become overwhelmed or emotional. 

I find it all too often that I come to the level of breakdowns because I don't start talking about things until they reach a boiling point. And it's definitely not because I don't have people that are willing to listen to me because that is far from true. I am so blessed with an abundance of people who are journeying alongside of me. 

But sometimes I get this stubborn mentality that I want to try and figure things out on my own first before bringing it to the table.

Can I really call it a funk if I am doing it to myself though? 

Or is there more to this whole "funk" thing than I think there is?

Sometimes I feel like I have been positive about this whole cancer thing for too long now. I have always had the attitude that if I can joke about it all the time, then I will make it through just fine.

It has been awhile since I have been real about my feelings. Maybe that is what is building up?

Cancer sucks.

It really, really does. 

I don't think there are enough cuss words in the world to describe how much I hate having to go through this. And now that I am on the final stretch of treatments, I get more antsy about reaching the end. 

Only 8 more weeks left. 

43 days until my last radiation appointment.

I had scans this morning to see how the remaining tumor is responding to treatment, so I am (im)patiently waiting for my doctor to call me and share my results. 

Is it bad that I always expect the worst? 

I can't help but assume that he is going to call me with bad news; news that the cancer has spread or that surgery is probably the only option. 

Now don't get me wrong... I still want to be able to laugh and/or make jokes pertaining to what I am dealing with in my life. I mean, I compared myself to Harry Potter yesterday.

Yes, you read that right... I compared myself to Harry Potter.

In the books and movies, people always refer to Voldemort as "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." And in comparing myself to him, I feel like that is how people treat the word cancer. People hate the word cancer, so they avoid saying it.

People has referred to it as my "illness" or my "situation" and so many other indirect terms without actually naming it.

So yes, I am like Harry Potter. Unafraid to name my enemy. I will refer to it as cancer and not be afraid of that.

When I was first diagnosed my doctor wrote this quote down for me...

"Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it."

I just need to find a healthy balance between being positive and being real with my emotions. 

Hard Reality

"What is something that a friend would know about you, but an acquaintance or someone you are just meeting wouldn't?" 

We were asked to split into groups and talk about this question in class the other day as a "get-to-know-eachother" kind of question.

Everyone was really struggling to find an answer, but this question was so easy for me.

When it got to be my turn in the circle to share, I hesitated and tried to think up of something other than the answer I already had in my head.

My answer seemed simple to me: I have cancer.

Unless you know who I am or have heard my story, you would probably never guess that I have cancer based on my appearance. 

I lost chunks of hair, which was my biggest fear, but praise the Lord that they were easily covered up. My skin was somewhat pale. But when I was going through chemo, I lost 20 pounds. That was probably the most physical attribute of mine that was visibly different. 

So honestly it has been hard being at college. It is hard walking around with hundreds of people who don't know this huge thing is going on in my life. But at the same time, I never want to be labeled as "the girl who has cancer," so there is so much fear in sharing it.

It's a tricky situation because this life experience of mine has obviously deeply impacted me but I feel like it always seems to be an awkward situation when I tell someone that I am battling cancer still... Like it's "too soon" or something.

This journey of cancer is a life experience that has the potential to speak wonders into the lives of others, but why do I cling so tightly to it? Why do I hold myself back from sharing?

What I have found though is that it all boils down to me feeling like it's so hard that no one here at Fox can REALLY relate! That no one really knows what I'm having to go through firsthand.

So I think a challenge to myself is to be able to discern when it is appropriate to share and when it's not. And also the ability to wake up everyday knowing that I am safe and loved.

And know that God is getting ready to bless me in a way that only He can. 

The Kid Who Stole My Story

The title of this blog first started out as a joke with a friend, but then I began to realize that I had a lot more emotions stemming from this whole situation than I had realized.

As I had once slightly mentioned in a previous blog, I had heard about someone who lied about having cancer. 

Not only did this person "have cancer", but his dad was in prison for most of his life (and so was mine). 

At first I was jokingly saying, "He and I are basically twins!" 

Then my friend said, "Well except for the whole lying part!"

She then came to the brilliant conclusion...

He stole your story!

Obviously, he didn't really steal it seeing how we have never actually met, but it's fun to say.

When I very first heard about this all, my first reaction was instant confusion. I mean... Why would someone lie about cancer?

Then I came to this point where I felt sorry for him because there must be some reasoning behind why this happened.

Now I just find myself constantly frustrated. 

He used a serious illness as a way to benefit himself. Whether he was doing it for the sake of having attention or whether he was doing it for any other reason, I just have such a hard time comprehending it. I don't think that he meant to offend or hurt anyone, but why did he go so far with it? Or why was cancer something he wanted to add to his story?

There are people who have to actually live with cancer and deal with the absolutely shitty-ness of it all. It is not fun. All through my time doing treatments Hell on Earth is the only way that I could describe it.

I mean, yes. A lot of fruit has come from my journey with cancer. I have learned so much. But the amount of suffering and grief that it caused within my friends, family, and myself was nothing that I would ever want to go through again. There are hardships that I face day in and day out.  Cancer is not a way to get "benefits." 

Cancer is an unwanted battle.

I had a hard time sleeping the other night because I couldn't stop thinking about how I wish I could have met him. I don't think, by any means, that I could have flat out called him out on it, but I would like to think that I could have helped people see that things didn't match up.

I've had several conversations over the last couple of weeks about the grief, anger, sadness, etc. that this has caused around the community. My prayers go out to all of those affected because I would imagine that the emotions coming from this all are deep.

I have had a lot of crap happen throughout my short 20 years of life so far. Things that have become part of my story. A story of redemption. A story that I have come to know is beautiful with all of the trash that's happened.

It just makes me wonder if he is just not confident in how valuable his story is. His real story. Not having a father is a tough battle, and I understand that completely. That alone in itself is a journey that is hard to get through, no matter the circumstances.

I have a feeling that this Kid Who Stole My Story will be consuming a lot of my thoughts for awhile. He is in my prayers. 

Untitled

I got the chance to sit outside in the sun on the quad with one of my residents yesterday and it really got my mind spinning.

After sharing her story with me, she was very persistent in wanting to know mine. I started from the beginning, explaining to her the places in which I can see God was completely woven into my life even before I knew Him.

Each and every thing that I have gone through has shaped me in to who I am today. 

They have created friendships, and destroyed some.

They have made memories, good and bad.

They have caused tremendous pain, but also overwhelming joy.

She was amazed at my ability to tell my story with fluidity, and also with so much hope about the direction in which I see my life going.

She then said the thing I could not disagree more with about her own story.

"Gosh, my life is so boring!"

I had the instant reaction to correct her and assure her that no one's life is boring, but instead I just simply asked her what she meant by that.

She went on to explain how she wishes that she would have something "big" happen to her so she could bring glory to God through that.

I proceeded to tell her that her testimony is a story that brings glory to God in so many aspects. Being a faithful follower of Christ is not easy. She chose to take the harder path.

Then she went on to tell me about her aunt that was diagnosed with Munchowsen (spelling?) Syndrome. She told me about how her aunt would make herself sick or injured in order to get sympathy and attention. Or she would tell people that she was sick, but what started out as a little white lie has become reality to her.

Why am I hearing about this so much lately?
Why are things like serious illnesses being made up?

Treatments are hell and if back in April I were given the choice to have cancer or not (without knowing what purposeful things have happened through my battle), there is no way I would have wanted this for myself. I have spent countless hours sitting in a hospital room getting poked and prodded with various medical instruments followed by countless hours of throwing up and sleeping because my body was so weak.

Although I became instantly upset when hearing this news, my heart also broke for the person who made this up. For some reason, this person was in a place of discontentment and felt as if saying they had this "illness" would fill some kind of void. I just wish I could tell them that they are loved, and that they should always be grateful for the story they have because people would kill to trade places with them.

And not only does my heart ache for this person, but also everyone that poured their heart out to this person. I am constantly praying for all of the people affected by this little white lie that escalated into something huge.

Praying for a spirit of understanding and peace through this hard situation.