Showing posts with label Breast Cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breast Cancer. Show all posts

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Cancer, Death and the Daunting Question, Why?

Judy Moss died this morning at 8:00 am. I wrote my thoughts down last week after visiting her in ICU but didn’t get them in my blog before she died. My words are inadequate but I pray you will get a glimpse of this generous, gracious woman who loved well. As I reflect upon her life and her death she remains a wounded healer.

My friend Judy is dying of cancer. I met Judy after her children, Mike Moss (B9) and Liz Moss (B23) went through Barnabas. Immediately, I found her to be kind and accepting. Theologically, she is probably more conservative than I am but she has accepted me with enduring grace and unconditional love. Though we never spent much time together, when I was diagnosed with cancer last year, I received a card from her with a check in it to help with my medical bills. When I began treatments she sent a wooden cross to me to hold during chemo. When her daughter Liz came by to check on me during my illness she told me that her Mom wanted to know how I was feeling and how my family, particularly Ricardo, was holding up through my illness. Judy was doing all this while fighting her own battle as cancer was spreading throughout her body.

Watching her journey over the last few years and seeing the torment she is now enduring ignites anger in me which asks, “So what are you doing now Lord?????” Clearly in my humanity I cannot understand how God interacts with such evil tragedies like death by cancer. Seeing her in ICU today it's hard to believe she is still alive with so little left of her physical body. Yet her spirit is clearly alive and her countenance is the same as it was before she got sick: kind, humble, thoughtful and full of faith. Many would say that the Spirit of God is always evident in her presence.

Too often Christians comfort themselves or others with beliefs such as, “God has a purpose which will be revealed later” or “this must be God’s will.” I don’t buy it. Surely the creator of the universe and the lover of our souls doesn’t sit on a throne as a parent unmoved by His children’s pain. Surely our God of grace doesn’t roam the earth deciding what illness or tragedy should be assigned to certain families. I’m not willing to get into a theological argument about what God planned or even foreknew. No one can answer the overwhelming question of “why?” If they try, they haven’t suffered.

So what is true in all of this? What is God doing? He is present. And that presence fills the room with peace. His presence lifts my heart out of the questions and calms me. God’s presence is tangible as He waits for Judy to be ready. When that time comes, the absence of her Spirit in the room will be deafening. Our memories will return to life before cancer and we will be comforted by the life she lived. Her family will grieve deeply because of her physical absence but will be grateful her suffering is over.

For now, those of us who stand by them can offer our presence and that will be enough.
Click on the envelope below to send to a friend.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

If You Are Uncomfortable With the Word Breast, You Might Not Want To Read This Blog

For 53 years breasts were a non issue for me. They didn’t seem particularly important and I had very little use for them. On April 21, 2009 these six words changed my life: “Ms. Freeman you have Breast Cancer.” Since then my life has been controlled by the right breast, also known as the mutinous, insubordinate, defiant appendage. It has been poked, prodded, cut, filled with a balloon and then burned and fried. And as if that wasn’t enough this one breast led to the rest of my body being poisoned with every white blood cell murdered only to be resurrected in three weeks and murdered again, over and over and over. The final blow was becoming a sick bald woman in bed for six months at the mercy of my wonderful caretakers.

Announcement, drum role, listen up… Today, one year later, the prodigal breast has come home! This morning I went for my one year anniversary mammogram and the film was clear of any signs of cancer. My surgeon put up the two films to compare last years to todays. The ugly white blob that was splattered on last years X-Ray was gone.

Like the winter season, the cancer had to die before new life could be born. Spring is here and new life is present. I have no idea how God brings forth life from death, heals the sick parts of us (He has been working on my mind for thirty years) and replaces fear and pain with joy. As I was speechless a year ago when I exited the doctor’s office, I am speechless again.

Thanks to all of you for traveling this journey with me. I will go for mammograms every three months for several years and realize that reoccurrence may come. But for today this prodigal has come home and I am about to kill the fatted calf!

I encourage you to consider what parts of you have been lost this past year. Did something in your life have to die before you could experience new life? Have the illusions that were created by your ego and misguided belief that we are actually in control fallen to the ground so that God could show you something beautiful that is built on the truth of His love and grace?

Don’t miss the spring. Maybe new life is pushing through the earth to create a beautiful garden full of God’s glory. My springtime is symbolized by these tiny white hairs pushing through the surface of my bald head. I am learning to appreciate all different kinds of flowers that come in spring. What a difference a year makes.


Click on the envelope below to send to a friend.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Remembering Holy Week

I haven’t blogged much since Cancer. My words are inadequate as I think back to one year ago when this disease entered my world. Perhaps I will be able to write about it one day, but for now I remain overwhelmed with the events of the last two years. I am blessed to be alive and humbled by the life lessons I had to face. I live my life one day at a time now. I encourage each of you to be thankful for THIS day. The loss of physical health, the loss of relationships, the loss of the very ground you are standing on can disappear in an instant. Jesus knew this and still traveled to Jerusalem.

This week, the week of Passover, the week of Jesus’ excruciating pain on the way to the cross hold new meaning for me. I want to be aware of every step He took. I want to remember what He said and what He did, knowing that His life on earth was coming to an end. I invite you to walk this journey with me.

Holy Week:
Sunday – I loved going to church yesterday. The kids marching through the worship service with their palm branches shouting “Hosanna, “Hosanna in the highest” took me back to years of celebrating Palm Sunday. It also reminded me of the last chance that Jesus would enter Jerusalem.

Several years ago, I went on a tour to Israel. I was sure that the Tomb, the Temple, the Wailing Wall or Golgotha would be emotional experiences as the Life of Jesus became real, touchable and tangible. After visiting numerous places where Jesus had taught His disciples and the crowds, it was time to travel to Jerusalem. I thought of the “Triumphant Entry” and was able to see the landscape where Jesus rode the donkey and the people welcomed Him as their coming King. But, to my surprise, it was not the crowd worshiping Jesus that caught my attention. As we got closer to Jerusalem, I happened to be at the front of the bus talking to my friend Sammy. Unprepared for what I was about to experience, we topped the mountain and Jerusalem was spread out before us. I burst into tears. For the first time, I could see why Jesus loved her.

As our bus descended into Jerusalem two thousand years later, I couldn’t imagine Jesus entering Jerusalem knowing that His entire life lead to this place and this time. Within the week the cheers would be exchanged for curses and shouts of “crucify Him.”

• Who are what is your Jerusalem?

• What journey is God asking you to travel?


Click on the envelope below to send to a friend.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

2009 Cancer Treatment - Roto-Rooter Radiation

It’s been a long time since I have posted an update about my treatment with Breast Cancer. I finished radiation last week and found that the nicest people in the world work with breast cancer patients. I wouldn’t recommend praying for the diagnosis just to meet nice people, but through these gifted men and women of mercy, the tender hand of God has been holding on to me in these first few weeks of treatment.

The question I hear the most is, “How is your third breast? I am thrilled to let you know that breast #3 is slowing down. I have only been drained twice this week and the sonogram show signs of tissue beginning to fill in the gap. I think my greatest long-term fear about breast #3 is that it has simply moved up my right upper arm thus giving me a greater wing span when I raise my arm. (If you are an older woman you know exactly what I am talking about. If not, think about your grandmother and the loose skin that rocked back and forth under her upper arm.) Had I been out in the storm last Monday and caught some of the high winds, I feel quite sure that had I raised my arms I would have taken flight.

The other breast trauma was this special radiation that I am fortunate to have qualified for. Rather than shooting radioactive beams on the outside of the body they inserted a “balloon” into the cavity where the tumor was removed. The end of the balloon comes out of the breast as a port on the outside of the body. Twice a day, they had this machine that looks like a “Roto-Rooter” and they attach it to the balloon. Then,everyone left the room and went into a “protective room” while the Roto-Rooter and I are filled with radioactive beads. The radiation went straight to the tumor site so only the tissue that surrounded the tumor was destroyed. Once the treatment was over and the Roto-Rooter was sucked back into the machine, the staff came back into the room, unhooked me and then held a Geiger Counter in front of me. For real!!

Even with all of this excitement, I have had virtually no suffering. As I read about other breast cancer survivors and discover friends, including two friends who had mastectomy’s this week, I am reminded of the real suffering in life. It may be physical, emotional or spiritual, but we are all subject to suffering and sorrow. I think the surprise in this for me is that joy and peace can exist in the midst of crisis. In fact it is often the crisis or pain that gives birth to freedom, peace and joy.

In talking with a friend tonight we asked the question, does suffering have to precede growth or joy? Probably not. I have had seasons in life where sheer delight and witnessing the majesty of God are equally as spiritual. Very few things compare to walking a trail in the Rocky Mountains or looking out at the ocean where land is no where in sight. Seeing someone grasp the grace of God or their own worth as the “Beloved” is on the top ten of my “God moments.” So, in scarcity and in abundance we see the tender hand of God… even for a three breasted radioactive woman.

Thanks to all of you for your prayers and precious notes of support.
I love you dearly.
Connie


Click on the envelope below to send to a friend.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Breast Cancer Adds Third Breast to Dallas Woman

Thank you for the emails, thoughts and prayers that have come my way. I have not really been on email since the surgery so please forgive me for not responding to each of you individually. Even though I am not on the computer regularly, I remain grateful for your prayers and your well wishes.

I am giving you two updates below. The “short version” is the bottom line of my current condition. For those of you like me, who want all the details, I couldn’t help sharing some of the graphic details from my “set of glasses.” If you are easily offended, stop with the short version.

Short Version: I am doing well, in some pain due to extra fluid. Left the house a couple of times but I tire easily. Radiology scheduled to begin June 1.

Long, Gory, Dramatic, Uncensored, Explicit, Rated R Version, (read if you wish): I am learning quickly that when a person has a serious disease, most of the choices are already made for them. Few of us would choose what goes on in those little pink examination rooms. Though you will see me making light of my treatment, I assure you it is simply me trying to maintain my sense of humor. I am incredibly grateful for the folks know that what they’re doing and that they are not wimps like me.

As you all know, the surgery and removal of a few lymph nodes was very successful without any indication of further tumors. I have two incisions. The first one is where they removed the tumor and the second one (almost under my arm) is where they removed the lymph nodes.

The first couple of days of recovery went well, just a little sore. On or around day three I began to grow a third breast where my lymph nodes were removed. After another 24 hours, I found myself carrying around this third breast in my hand. The required after surgery sports bra could not contain it. I thought of so many of my friends who have carried an equal or greater amount of breast poundage around their entire life. How do they do it without holding them (breasts) to keep them from bouncing around, thus causing great pain to the torso that is required to keep them attached?

Concerned about this third breast, I called the Dr. and they had me come in. She notified me that I had a large amount of fluid that had built up where they removed the lymph nodes. As you probably know, surgeons typically don’t really think anything is a big deal. Very calmly she informed me that she was going to remove the fluid. I’m thinking, OK… will I go back “under” or what? She turned around with a needle and vile and began sucking the fluid out of my new breast, moving the needle around guided by the image on the sonogram. She took out 5-6 giant vials and then decided that the needle was too small. She turned back around with a needle the size of a knitting needle. Twelve vials later she stopped and poured the inside of my now deflated third breast into a large measuring cup. She recorded the amount of fluid then told me to make another appointment because she was sure it was going to fill back up.

As she predicted, the “third breast” filled up again but this time I did not watch. (Duh. Can’t tell you why I watched all 18 vials fill up the first time.) They drained twice as much fluid on Thursday and as of today, (Saturday) it has filled up again. I will probably go in tomorrow and then have it drained again next Wednesday when she inserts the radiation balloon in the cavity of Breast #2. They will drain Breast #3 as often as they need to until it dries up and the other lymph nodes take over. The goal is to end up with my too small original breasts.

I feel as though I have neglected Breast #1 in all of my correspondence but I guess that is typical… The good kid doesn’t get the attention. Never thought I would say this, but I am very proud of Breast #1.

Next week will be filled with appointments and tests to prepare for radiation on June 1. It is a fairly new type of radiation called Intracavitary brachytherapy. This method of brachytherapy consists of a small balloon attached to a thin tube. The deflated balloon is inserted into the space left by the lumpectomy and is filled with a salt water solution. The balloon and tube are left in place throughout treatment (with the end of the tube sticking out of the breast). Twice a day a source of radioactivity is placed into the middle of the balloon through the tube and then removed. This is done for 5 days as an outpatient treatment. The balloon is then deflated and removed.

Chemotherapy will follow after 2-3 weeks of additional healing from surgery and radiation.

One last note… Don’t let those little pink examination rooms fool you. Torture goes on there.


Click on the envelope below to send to a friend.

Monday, May 11, 2009

"Ms. Freeman, you have Breast Cancer"


Three weeks ago I heard the words, "Ms. Freeman, you have Breast Cancer.” They were spoken by a stranger after a sonogram. First of all, I never dreamed of having Breast Cancer. I was prepared for a heart attack, but never breast cancer. (If you know me, you know my arteries are filled with butter, bacon, eggs, all kinds of fried foods and every thing else that clogs the arteries.) If I was going to hear these words, shouldn’t I have been in the hospital, surrounded by friends and family when the Doctor came in to deliver the shocking news? I guess not. I dressed and walked out of the room wondering, well what should I do now? It’s 2:00 in the afternoon. Do I just call my close friends and family, ask about their day and say, “I just thought you might want to know that I have Breast Cancer.” It all sounded so dramatic. Since then, I have had tests, then waited. More tests, waited again. Bad news, then not so bad news. Finally, tomorrow at 9:00 am the surgeon is going in to take the tumor out.

Right now it is 11:45 pm and I have only 15 minutes to eat or drink anything I want. If you could see what all I have chosen for the “last supper and last snack” you might wonder if they shouldn’t be operating on my brain instead. If I should die “on the table” I want to make sure that I had Braums Banana Nut cookies just in case they don’t bake those in heaven. I have used the “If I die” card as many times as I could today but not too many people took the bait.

Kidding aside, my prognosis looks good. I have Stage II, grade III breast cancer. My tumor is now 3 cm large but there is no reason to believe that with the surgery, chemo and radiation that the cancer cells cannot be eliminated. We will find out tomorrow if the lymph nodes are involved.

The cancer diagnosis has caused me to think about what really matters to me. Stress probably played a significant role in my disease and stress and attitude will play a part in my recovery. I am going on a “stress free” diet. During the last nine months, I missed priceless moments because of grief and fear. I have a wake-up call and another "second chance" at life.

We play a “game” in Barnabas called “What’s left unsaid.” I’ve thought a lot about that this weekend. There were so many words last year and so many things “said” that I have not taken stock of what I really want to say. So, I am going to play this game tonight and say “what is left unsaid.” I want to say…

I’m sorry to anyone whom I have wounded.

I am saddened by the saying that “The church is the only organization that I know of who shoot their wounded.” I found this to be true. However, I also found that Jesus and the Body of Christ can still be found in the most unlikely places.

Freedom is only found when I allow the illusions that I have created to fall to the ground. It is then that the ground beneath me can not fall out from under me. The truth has set me free.

I am blessed to have loved deeply and blessed to be the recipient of others love. I have a few friends who are friends, no matter what. You know who you are.

I am sure that Jesus loves all people and that all are welcome at the table.

Pride does come before a fall. Damn ego!!

I wish that all of us could just be nice to each other. Judgments and shame kill people.

I love my son and my daughter.

Being a grandmother is better than being a mother.

Children and disabled people are the face of God.

The “I’m Right” game destroys relationships, organizations and churches.

God sends manna and money from the sky just in time.

I have met people who have different faith beliefs and I am struck by their goodness and grace.

When I thought that I could not live another minute, God sent Mercy.

“I never dreamed that home would end up a place that I don’t belong.”

My dog Katy is the most beautiful of Gods creatures.

Many people have suffered and died to give me the freedom that I have. I pray that I can pave the way for people after me so that they do not have to be judged.

Martin Luther King and everyday men and women were courageous when they fought for civil rights. Why am I just now “getting this?”

At 53, I still miss my Dad. He made me feel safe.

I miss my friend Mark. He could have helped. I wish I could have helped him.

Jesus loves me, this I know.


Most importantly, I believe that…

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called sons of God.


Whatever it takes, I long to be in “that” group. I have a long way to go and will not get close until Jesus has made me perfect but His words bring me peace and remind me of what needs to be said and done as one of His beloved.

Looking forward to continuing this journey of grace with many of you.

Connie
(Sorry, but this is Barnabas lingo) By The Grace of God, I Am a Special, Worthy and Complete Woman, Who Needs God’s Help.







Click on the envelope below to send to a friend.