Silver Linings....

SOOOO.....

I sit here in the midst of Game Day #2. I am 4 bags in (see images), all facilitated by Judy (see image) my amazing Cancer Treatment nurse and I feel good today.

(Flushes the port, gives the Aloxi (anti nausea) something to go into my system with. Just cold. No reaction.)

Works in connection with the Herceptin to turn off the HER-2 (Human Epidermal Growth Factor Receptor 2) proteins that make my cancer cells reproduce super fast and 24/7. 

(This and the Perjeta work on the HER-2 proteins. They have also contributed to my hair loss and other nasty symptoms post infusion. BUT if they do their job, I'm cancer free...and the hair always grows back!)

                                                                 

(We'll call this one "Big Nasty" cause it's a heavy hitter of the group. All of my post chemo symptoms could possibly be attributed to this wonderfully terrifying drug. Wonderful only because my cancer cells are terrified too! Belly swelling, face swelling, fatigue, nail and skin changes...the list is interminable.) 

(Judy is efficient and kind. She works quickly but never seems rushed and is always willing to answer my questions or just sit and talk. Another good one!)                                                                

My fears going into today include:
1. I don't feel a hundred percent. Some lingering stomach and skin issues that were not fully resolved prior to today's treatment. With that, I am a little concerned that this treatment will only take me lower than the first one did since I am not working with as much of a "whole me".

2. My labs (they run a complete panel each time before treatment) were low. Not low enough to hold on today's treatment and still considered a "normal" response to chemo but again, it worries me a little that when I have less I am working with this time in terms of strengths, what will this treatment do to me? I could easily see how some see an increase in their negative responses to chemo with each passing treatment. Not an awesome prospect...but a part of the game. And I'm here to play.


But the title of this post is "Silver Linings..." because there have been so many during this process and if I don't write them down, I am certain to explode. This blog is serving to be something so therapeutic for me in ways I can't describe. I will share the lows that the Lord is working me through, but it's equally, if not more important for me to share the blessings that have been revealed to me in subtle and not so subtle ways. Even as I sit here and know what this poison is doing to me, there are tears to be shed not for the pain for the unbelievable ways that my heart and soul have been touched by those around me as my family and I take one day at a time, counting down the days until we can celebrate that "Cancer Free" announcement from Dr. Khan and join a growing group of cancer survivors!! I. Can. Not. Wait. For that day!

The Silver Linings title is one that will repeat as I fully expect to be amazed daily (as I have been) by the kindness of others around me. But this will serve as a start of the Gratitude Journal part of this blog:

The hair is gone. And I do miss it. I don't like it when adults stare. I wish they would just talk to me.
Ask me. Smile. Don't avoid eye contact. Please.

(Just a reminder that I DID have hair! This picture was actually taken by one of my 1st graders at our 1st grade music program. I was already losing a LOT of it in the back and on the sides. That Friday, I took it all off. The handfuls coming out in the shower were just...too much.)

But the kids are amazing. About the hair. About the hats. The missed days of school.
One of my perfectly adorable 1st graders came up to me yesterday around dismissal and hugged my neck so tight. She told me how beautiful I looked and then just asked me!! "How come you got the Cancer Ms. Miller?" "I wish I knew sweet girl, but you keep giving me hugs like that, and combined with some great doctors, I am certain I will be well soon!!" (Silver Lining)

There is nothing better than seeing the capacity for kindness and empathy in the life of a young person who is currently DESIGNED by God to be pretty egocentric. What unselfish and loving acts I have experienced from so many of the wonderful students at Sycamore Hills. They are truly an amazing group of young people that I feel blessed to know, daily. And even on their worst days (we all have them), I would show up every day, to be a face of love, support and high expectations for them. My only concern is that some don't understand how worthy they truly are of that love and support. I hope by the end of their tenure at Sycamore, they can rest somewhere in that fact.

The staff with which I get to serve students and families at Sycamore Hills......
I can't adequately describe the love and compassion that oozes from their every pore. Amazing people. Kind people. Over achievers at their core. People who love and work with reckless abandon. Jesus, who knows the end from the beginning, knew what He was doing when He placed me there.
                                                    

My sister, Michelle, the only friend I have known for the whole of my life; my surrogate mother of sorts when Mom couldn't be there for me as a young girl. A sounding board; source of accountability; source of hope and strength; source of a healthy mixture of optimism and realism. Asking for help is not my strength while providing help IS HERS. We struggle at times to come together in meeting both of our needs but she is working SO very hard to see past her own desires to help to meet me where I am. She is just...love. She loves me. She loves me at my worst....and we know our siblings...see the worst of us. She's my biggest fan. And there's just nothing like having a big sister cheering you on from where ever you let her stand in the stadium. Nothing like it anywhere.

(Michelle and I..with hair, this past Christmas)

Logan Christopher and Landen Christopher Miller. Both of my children are fierce in different ways. They are wonderfully unique and challenging. They are creative and kind. Both of them searching not only to find out who they really are and want to be but also who they "should be" according to this NEW reality in which we live. They love with intensity. They laugh hard and cry hard. And they are the joys of my life. My heart, walking around in two parts on the outside of my body. And I can't properly articulate my love for them.

My current challenges are mixed. To relieve them of the pressure to "perform" for me or make my life easier, yet use this experience to help them better understand that there will always be others around us suffering and that Jesus would have us find ways to look beyond ourselves to help when we can. I really DON'T know what I'm doing. But I know that my job as a mom was complicated BEFORE this diagnosis. And now, the doubts we all have about our parenting decisions are magnified to a degree I never really thought possible. But it's part of the game...and I came to play. 

My friends and family (family family and church family) have been an amazing source of support. And because I didn't ask for permission before finishing this post, I won't post individual pictures or names. But I WANT TO!!! I want everyone to see their faces and know the courage and hope and encouragement all of them have offered and continue to offer me on a daily basis. Some of them with mighty struggles going on of their own. BIG ROCK struggles. LIFE ALTERING struggles. Yet they all, have taken their eyes off of their own struggles to minister to me and my children. There are no real words to describe my gratitude.

The Silver Linings offered in this post are "game changers". I may be the shot caller. But when you have people of faith and consequence who walk into your life and TELL YOU they WILL be there, in whatever capacity you need them to be and knowing that accepting that support may be the biggest struggle you face....there is a shift in the game that is undeniable. I would be stupid or blind not to see it. They are people sent by a God who loves me (and THEM) enough to draw us together to do life together...according to His design. HOLY COW! God is so good! And I am so very grateful!

The Dark Places: Take One

My last post described events leading up to and including my first chemo infusion. That Friday, and even up through that following Saturday were undisturbed. I did my normal "things". I slept ok. I ate fine. And I actually found myself thinking (please forgive me), "Chemo just might not effect me like it does other people...this could end up being a breeze!". And then Sunday came.....

Sunday was my son, Landen's 7th birthday.

Landen and my oldest, Logan, have a general understanding of what is going on with me but the focus of my message to them is that, though this all might be a big pain in the butt for a little while, I am going to be just fine. I have told them that I AM NOT WORRIED and even as those words left my lips, I could see the weight of this terrible "Cancer World" lifting from their tiny shoulders. So that is the image that I have portrayed and that, in reality, is my truth. I am NOT worried that I may die from this. I do not worry that I will be taken from this Earth by Breast Cancer. I know that I will come through it and be stronger because of it. However, I do now have a glimpse into the mind of someone who opts out of chemo and decides to allow the Cancer to do just that, take them from the Earth. Chemotherapy just, for lack of a better word, sucks.

Sunday, April 3rd.
I woke up feeling a little less energetic than the days before. But I knew to expect some fatigue and possibly nausea around 72 hours post infusion. We went to church and as my Pastor who is funny and engaging and has never struggled to hold my attention, hit the mid point of his message....my energy level began to bottom out. I could feel my body sinking into my seat and my eyes to scream for rest.
"But it's Landen's birthday".

We went to lunch at Landen's restaurant of choice. I ordered lunch and it was all I could to take 3 bites of my favorite dish before asking for a to-go box. And they sang to him. And we left. And on the way home, my birthday boy says to me, "Mom, when we get home, how about Logan and I just watch cartoons and you can rest in the recliner! We can do whatever YOU want to do, Mom!". And in the face of his selflessness and compassion, my heart broke just a little bit.....a dark place.

Sunday was just the beginning.
Monday started off in a similar fashion but was characterized by blinding fatigue and absolutely no desire to eat or drink anything. As advised by my doctors and nurses, I continued to drink water but ate virtually nothing. Anti-nausea meds (which make me very sleepy) were all that kept me from throwing up the water I was able to consume throughout the day.

Though I made it to work on Tuesday, I was consumed by fatigue and nausea....dark places.

Wednesday through Friday: more of the same....6 pounds lost in 7 days.

Saturday, the fog begins to lift. The darkness fades just a little to light. And I start to hope for something to change for the better. Truthfully, there were moments I doubted my ability to endure the terrible discomfort and the pain with every day to day task. How could I possibly live like this for 4 months?

Sunday and Monday greet me with a level of normalcy I had feared gone for a long time. I can eat with few negative consequences. Brushing my teeth doesn't mean spitting blood for an hour afterward. I can sleep without the meds they've given me to "relax" in the face of the symptoms plaguing me.

The normalcy continues today. I saw and am now experiencing the light at the end of what seemed an interminably dark tunnel. I feel good and am fighting the urge I have to dread and count down the minutes until April 22nd, my next infusion. I will go because I have to go to get well. But I don't want to.

I am an optimist because I know a good and loving God. But this disease has taken me to some dark places. Places that, if forced to remain there, would require that I pull from the depths of my faith yet untapped to endure them.

The darkness is hard. But when my eyes can't see even the next step to take, Jesus is the the light to my path. When all I want to do is hide my face, He is the Lifter of My Head. He is my Rock; my Champion. He is love and truth and never promised me that I wouldn't have trouble. In fact He promised I WOULD. But He also promised that He would never leave me. So when He is for me....what else matters?  My flesh begs for me to be spared this....for my children to be spared this. But He is still good. So I will trust this process because I trust Him.

Game on.

Game On. 

Friday (April 1st of all days) was the first of many "game days" for me and the team of medical professionals, family and friends who have all joined my team to fight this "thing" called cancer. It was the date of my first of 6 currently planned infusions of drugs designed to attack and kill the malignant cells hell bent on ending me. So, though I am not pleased with some of the side effects, I am a pretty big fan of my Taxotere, Carboplatin, Herceptin and Perjeta (TCHP). 

I DO NOT ASK FOR HELP well AT ALL...
This is no doubt a part of what I am supposed to learn through this process. I am trying desperately to avail myself to the opportunities,  but in truth, Infusion Day: the sitting for 6 hours while both poisonous and non-poisonous drugs are delivered to my body, doesn't sound like anything anyone would WANT to do! 

Yet, I was humbled, as I have been many times through the early stages of this process, by the number of people who WOULD want to sit and stare at me, or Mike (see image below) my treatment nurse for 6 loooooonnngggg hours, if it meant that I didn't have to be.....alone. 

What I am learning is that God will NOT waste a single moment of this process. He will not only grow me and my family into more of what He would have us be, but He is also providing opportunities for caring people to be the Hands and Feet of Jesus; to minister to those who are hurting, or just in need of a friend. I am trying to surrender the pride that nearly always prevents me from accepting help to make room for Him to be glorified by the selfless acts of those who are willing to be a source of help. 

I'm trying. 

Mike (short for Michaela but pronounced Mike-a-La) is amazing. She gave the low-down on each of the drugs (the first two were to prep my body for and prevent the inevitable wretching that days later would result from the last four: the"cocktail") and took the time to make me laugh....


It's a funny thing to watch someone dress as if they are going to clean up toxic waste....yet they are really just coming to your room, your bed, to give you that lovely, toxic mixture of hell and heaven; death and life; hatred and love.  This is the mixture that, along with my prayers intertwined with the fervent prayers of those who love me and my boys, and my fierce desire to live a MUCH longer life than this disease would have me live, WILL heal me.

Flash forward 6 hours, 1 movie (Concussion with Wil Smith...a good one by the way), and 1 book (The Positive Dog by Jon Gordon....a good one by the way) and many laps around my approved walking track.....and not a tear shed. I can do this. I can handle this.

And then Mike comes in to do the "education " part of the chemo. And all of the stuff makes sense. I'm a fairly educated person, I know what this stuff might do to my body.  And then she says it. Like several others before her. She reminds me that I am going to lose. My. Hair.

And once again, the tears well up and fall silently..... and I feel a mixture of sadness and shame.  Sadness because I know I will lose something that I have come to know as one of my defining female features. Shame because I feel so shallow to be upset about it. And more tears come...all the while I'm willing them to stop. "Pull it together, Miller. It's just hair. It'll grow back".

After a minute, I do.....pull myself together. I take a deep breathe. And pulling the air into my lungs, I feel a little more like steel than I had a minute before. Unbreakable. Not because I want to be. But because....what other choice do I have?

I will NOT allow something made from this world to diminish the power of the God of the Universe who makes all things new, calls out Kings, and shuts the mouths of lions.

But it's gonna be hard. And I pray that this writing will serve to remind someone out there, that regardless of their struggle, they aren't, EVER alone.