Tag: breast cancer (Page 2 of 5)

We have belonged to an amazing church community for many years. If you don’t belong to a giving community, I strongly suggest you find a group that you can resonate with. They can make all the difference in the world to you, both emotionally and physically.

We decided to have the surgery to put my body into menopause. The doctors both agreed that would be the best course of action. The surgery was scheduled for mid November 2010.

What does this have to do with community?

Let me tell you a story.

Every year in November our church youth group plans a Fall Mission Trip. Even though I call it a trip, it is done over a weekend, therefore they look for local needs in the community. The kids and adults work all day Saturday, then spend the night at a local church. It is a great weekend for the youth and the adult volunteers to experience what it is like to give back.  Everyone from middle school to high school is invited to participate and they work at different locations throughout the community. Close to 100 people participate in this event each year.

As a family, we had participated in this event with our kids before. This year, it was our turn to be a recipient.

While we were at the hospital, my husband received a phone call. One of the projects scheduled for the upcoming weekend Mission had to be cancelled. Scrambling to find a project for 20 or more kids and adults to work on, the church leaders reached out to my husband. They wanted to build a deck on the back of the house that would have a ramp to allow me access to the backyard.

Let me just say, it is so much easier to be on the giving side than the receiving side, especially for my husband.

His first reaction was NO. We would just be getting home from the hospital, and he did not want me to be bothered by the noise and chaos of the volunteers working just outside our living room.

A plan was hatched.

When God puts people in your life to offer you a gift, He does not let you say NO. One of our friends from church offered to come to the house, pick me up, let me sit in her recliner and pamper me at her house while the youth worked at our house. It was an offer we couldn’t refuse.

Saturday morning, I was whisked away before 8 am. A little later, more than 20 people were at our house building, cleaning and painting. A beautiful deck was built, our yard was raked and mowed and the ramp my father-in-law had built for our main entrance was painted with non-slip paint. These kids and adults did an amazing job.

I’m not sure it was God’s plan that I have a beautiful deck. More likely God’s plan was to remind us that we are all part of a loving community and that community is ready and willing to help if we just ask (or even if we don’t).

A huge shout out to the youth and families at First United Methodist Church Round Rock. I am so thankful to have this community of friends in our lives.

“What is your pain on a scale of 1-10?” the nurse asked.

I answered……. “15”

That was the moment my husband began to fully comprehend what was happening. He knew I was in pain, and had been in pain for several months. But pain was not something I have ever been able to assign a number to.

The nurse found a new gear when I said my pain level was 15. She finished what she was doing as quickly as possible, consulted with the doctor, and ran off to set up an IV drip of morphine for me. I was wheeled down to the infusion room to get the morphine drip, tears still randomly streaming down my cheeks. They wanted to get my pain under control so I could go downstairs to the radiation oncologist and get fitted for my radiation pillow.

In order to get the proper position for the radiation, a pillow is molded to hold me in the same position for every treatment. They use a CT scan to know where the radiation will be targeted and how to best ‘arrange me’ to make the molded pillow. I admit, I almost laughed when they asked me to “hop up on the table.” Obviously, there was no hopping that was going to be done. I remember staring at the table wondering how I would get out of the wheelchair and onto the flat, cold, hard table they wanted me to lie on.  The morphine had not been enough. I think my husband actually heard my screams in the waiting room.

After a few attempts, they eventually got me situated enough to get the scans and make the pillow. Then they told me I could get back in the wheelchair. Another laugh, another scream, another 10 minutes trying to figure out how to make that transition.

We met with the radiation oncologist after the scan/pillow episode. This was the first time we actually saw the scans. I don’t have any medical background, but my husband has a degree in kinesiology. As the doctor was talking, I was watching my husband’s reaction more than looking at the scans.

My husband’s face told me more than the words the doctor was speaking.

Without going into an anatomy lesson, the best description is the bone that holds the femur in place was no longer there. It was gone, eaten, destroyed. It was no wonder my pain level was off the scale, my femur was just floating, there was no joint left.

According to the doctor, the radiation was going to help with the pain (THANK GOD, because the morphine was doing NOTHING). Onward, to radiation!!!

It was October 2010. Almost 7 years since I was first diagnosed with Breast Cancer. I had resumed a normal life. Cancer was behind me.

No. It wasn’t.

Cancer was here for the long haul. It was here to stay.

The next few days were a blur.  The timeline is a little hazy, but generally I remember thinking I don’t like October.

Which came first, the phone call, the doctor’s visit or the biopsy? I don’t know. During those first few days I did have a bone biopsy performed and I had visits with my oncologist and the radiation oncologist.

I do remember getting a phone call from the oncologist. The date I remember.

Friday, October 8, 2010.

It was exactly 7 years from the date of my first biopsy.

I was at work (still using the crutches, which is important in trying to remember the timing). I stepped outside to take the call. They told me I had cancer AGAIN. Through my tears, I called my husband and asked him to come get me. He came and picked me up and we just drove around for a while. Was it that same day or another, I can’t remember, when we went to pick up our girls from school to tell them the cancer was back.

The most important thing  I learned during this time is it is not fun to find out you have an allergy to a pain medication right after you had a bone biopsy on your hip. Not being able to walk and needing to get to the bathroom quickly did not go so well. Thankfully, it was a pain patch and I was able to rip it off to limit the side effects.

We were headed to the oncologist, for another appointment, and the crutches slipped out from under me going out the door. Screaming and crying I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it to the car 10 yards away from me. In fact, my husband almost called and cancelled the appointment. Somehow, he managed to get me to the car and we got to the doctor’s office. Once in the waiting room, one of the nurses got me a wheelchair.

In the time period of about one week, I went from walking, to using crutches, to sitting in a wheelchair. What in the world was happening? We were about to find out just what cancer had done to my body.

Did I mention that I REALLY don’t like October?