Post by pixydust on Feb 2, 2010 1:30:09 GMT -5
Sorry, long post to ensue...
So, you guys have been with me through all my ups and downs with this cancer journey. You know that I've always tried to be positive, but what you didn't know is that I've also had the shadow of death looming over my life since I can remember. I've felt since I was a teenager that I was going to die young from cancer. I think this stemmed from a few things--my dad's long battle with Hutchins when I was young and my own self image. In my eyes I was worthless, fat, ugly, and full of so many flaws, there was no way God could use me. I was anorexic and bulimic, I tried to kill myself when I was 17, and was a massive cutter until 20. I bear a lot of scars, inside and out. But God has been healing them over the years, leaving just enough behind to remind me of how far I've come with His love.
And for some reason, about four years ago--maybe five--God started me in the school of hard knocks. I'm so thankful He thought I was ready, but I would have loved a little warning.
There was the year of "The Ranch." That was like the pregame (losing everything we had, home, security, and fifty chickens...lol). Then came the two and a half years of "The Illness," the death of my dream to homeschool my kids and then my year of "Failure Mom." Followed by three months of "Okay, this isn't so bad. I need to just snap out of it." Then BOOM, "You have a tumor the size of a tennis ball in your chest, Miss." Ohhhh kay. That's not good. "Oh, look, it's lymphoma." Really not good.
But I got through it. I accepted my fate and rolled with the punches--after all, isn't that the Christian thing to do?
After going through all the chemo and whatnot I went into remission but I didn't feel settled. Something about the whole thing seemed way too simple. It was end of June, or early July last year when I was given my ticket to leave the chemo chair. And wouldn't you know it, around August I started feeling sick again. It got really bad (all the same CFS symptoms I'd had for 3 yrs that turned out to be the lymphoma). Needless to say, the dread came back in spades.
Long story short, I found out the day before Thanksgiving that I had another mass in my chest. My oncologist was beside herself and I wasn't the least bit surprised. I knew something had been left undone. My journey wasn't complete.
I just didn't realize it didn't have anything to do with the cancer.
A thoracotomy was planned for the new year to see what we were dealing with exactly. I seemed to be amazing to all the drs. None of them had ever seen anything like what was going on with me (the story of my life...lol). I got poked a lot and they liked looking at my scans and "talking amongst themselves."
In the mean time I went through a gamut of feelings, from anger, to terror, to depression. I saw my children left without a mother, my husband without a wife. The curse had come upon me and it was about to finish me off. It was in everybody’s eyes--I wasn't going to make it through this time. Cancer again so soon. My time was up.
So, I made the decision that I wasn't going to do chemo again. No bone marrow transplant. No radiation. I was done with poisoning myself and my last few months/years on this planet were going to be as pain free as possible. I'd seen too many loved ones fade away in horrifying ways.
I started reading everything I could get my hands on about diet and cell building and natural cancer treatments. Then, two weeks before my surgery, my dad made an off-handed comment to me about being frustrated at God, this wasn't supposed to be happening.
And it hit me: Why was I just accepting my fate? I'd already decided: I had cancer again. Holy crap, I was an idiot. I needed push it away. I needed to fight this! And God gave me an image of Jacob wrestling with the angel.
So I fought with the death following me around. I fought with God. For the next two weeks I poured out myself to Him--telling Him I wasn't going to roll over like last time. And I could sense His smile. This is what He'd been trying to show me. I'd been rolling over my whole life. He wanted me to fight. He wanted me to WANT to live.
I went into surgery with every reason to believe I was going to be fine--either way. Because whatever they said, I wasn't going to let the cancer win.
And when I woke up to my husband by my side the Holy Spirit was so strong in the room I knew I was in His hands like never before. And my husband said the words: It isn't cancer. All I could do was cry and say, I knew He would save me. I knew He would.
You want to believe, but life keeps beating you back into the ground. And something inside me shifted in that moment. I had stood firm. My face wasn't in the dirt this time. I fell asleep and dreamed it over and over. That moment. Then later that night I had to call my husband to make sure it all hadn't been a dream...lol.
Anywho, That was two weeks ago, and I don't know what's next, but I know that God did a miracle. Not because I made Him, but because He wanted me to ask. To knock, and knock, and knock. To show Him that I believed I deserved it. I deserved to be healthy. To be a mom and a wife and follow my dreams that He'd given me. I was worth Him healing me. He knew that, but He needed me to believe it.
And I hope to never be the same again. God is good all the time, and He is my salvation. Always.
Thanks for all your prayers guys. They've been heard. more than you know.
So, you guys have been with me through all my ups and downs with this cancer journey. You know that I've always tried to be positive, but what you didn't know is that I've also had the shadow of death looming over my life since I can remember. I've felt since I was a teenager that I was going to die young from cancer. I think this stemmed from a few things--my dad's long battle with Hutchins when I was young and my own self image. In my eyes I was worthless, fat, ugly, and full of so many flaws, there was no way God could use me. I was anorexic and bulimic, I tried to kill myself when I was 17, and was a massive cutter until 20. I bear a lot of scars, inside and out. But God has been healing them over the years, leaving just enough behind to remind me of how far I've come with His love.
And for some reason, about four years ago--maybe five--God started me in the school of hard knocks. I'm so thankful He thought I was ready, but I would have loved a little warning.
There was the year of "The Ranch." That was like the pregame (losing everything we had, home, security, and fifty chickens...lol). Then came the two and a half years of "The Illness," the death of my dream to homeschool my kids and then my year of "Failure Mom." Followed by three months of "Okay, this isn't so bad. I need to just snap out of it." Then BOOM, "You have a tumor the size of a tennis ball in your chest, Miss." Ohhhh kay. That's not good. "Oh, look, it's lymphoma." Really not good.
But I got through it. I accepted my fate and rolled with the punches--after all, isn't that the Christian thing to do?
After going through all the chemo and whatnot I went into remission but I didn't feel settled. Something about the whole thing seemed way too simple. It was end of June, or early July last year when I was given my ticket to leave the chemo chair. And wouldn't you know it, around August I started feeling sick again. It got really bad (all the same CFS symptoms I'd had for 3 yrs that turned out to be the lymphoma). Needless to say, the dread came back in spades.
Long story short, I found out the day before Thanksgiving that I had another mass in my chest. My oncologist was beside herself and I wasn't the least bit surprised. I knew something had been left undone. My journey wasn't complete.
I just didn't realize it didn't have anything to do with the cancer.
A thoracotomy was planned for the new year to see what we were dealing with exactly. I seemed to be amazing to all the drs. None of them had ever seen anything like what was going on with me (the story of my life...lol). I got poked a lot and they liked looking at my scans and "talking amongst themselves."
In the mean time I went through a gamut of feelings, from anger, to terror, to depression. I saw my children left without a mother, my husband without a wife. The curse had come upon me and it was about to finish me off. It was in everybody’s eyes--I wasn't going to make it through this time. Cancer again so soon. My time was up.
So, I made the decision that I wasn't going to do chemo again. No bone marrow transplant. No radiation. I was done with poisoning myself and my last few months/years on this planet were going to be as pain free as possible. I'd seen too many loved ones fade away in horrifying ways.
I started reading everything I could get my hands on about diet and cell building and natural cancer treatments. Then, two weeks before my surgery, my dad made an off-handed comment to me about being frustrated at God, this wasn't supposed to be happening.
And it hit me: Why was I just accepting my fate? I'd already decided: I had cancer again. Holy crap, I was an idiot. I needed push it away. I needed to fight this! And God gave me an image of Jacob wrestling with the angel.
So I fought with the death following me around. I fought with God. For the next two weeks I poured out myself to Him--telling Him I wasn't going to roll over like last time. And I could sense His smile. This is what He'd been trying to show me. I'd been rolling over my whole life. He wanted me to fight. He wanted me to WANT to live.
I went into surgery with every reason to believe I was going to be fine--either way. Because whatever they said, I wasn't going to let the cancer win.
And when I woke up to my husband by my side the Holy Spirit was so strong in the room I knew I was in His hands like never before. And my husband said the words: It isn't cancer. All I could do was cry and say, I knew He would save me. I knew He would.
You want to believe, but life keeps beating you back into the ground. And something inside me shifted in that moment. I had stood firm. My face wasn't in the dirt this time. I fell asleep and dreamed it over and over. That moment. Then later that night I had to call my husband to make sure it all hadn't been a dream...lol.
Anywho, That was two weeks ago, and I don't know what's next, but I know that God did a miracle. Not because I made Him, but because He wanted me to ask. To knock, and knock, and knock. To show Him that I believed I deserved it. I deserved to be healthy. To be a mom and a wife and follow my dreams that He'd given me. I was worth Him healing me. He knew that, but He needed me to believe it.
And I hope to never be the same again. God is good all the time, and He is my salvation. Always.
Thanks for all your prayers guys. They've been heard. more than you know.
