The Dark Places: Take two.

I met with my surgeon this week.

Jamie Wagner has the look of an angel. Blonde hair, blue eyes, super cute. But, like my oncologist, Dr. Khan, she has a seriousness about her. I feel safe under her care and know that the disease has one more fierce opponent in her.

I've been well educated throughout this process. At every turn, KU faculty have gone above and beyond to ensure I understand the behavior of the disease and the reasons for each component of my treatment plan. So when I saw Dr. Wagner, I didn't have many questions. But instead, I felt lost. And I feel lost even as I write this.
Though I've known that this was coming for months, the reality of this surgery being 3 weeks away has me feeling scared and sad.

There is nothing spectacular about me in reality. Jesus thinks I'm pretty awesome and loves me so much He died to save me ....But, by the worlds standards, I am unremarkable.  I do my best to have a positive impact on those around me. Sometimes I fall short. I try to be a good mother to my boys. Sometimes I fall short. My job is a big one like so many others who choose to work in service of young people and their families.. I feel honored to be able to do what I do and to serve on such an amazing team. But really...when it boils down to it...I'm just a typical girl.

And today, even though my hair was lost months ago, my fingernails are falling off (I know!!! ....so gross!) and the scars caused by this process continue to mount, I am lost at the thought of another defining feature...being taken. So many women have walked in my shoes. So many have breathed in the shock and fear of this....and exhaled with the strength and resolve that comes...when you know you have no other real choice. So many of us. Yet....there are moments, like this one, when I feel so very alone...when I feel like the burden is just too great..too big...too painful... too scary..... and I decide there is no smile to be mustered. And the tears are unavoidable. And there is no desire to be strong.

"Skin sparing double mastectomy".
Good grief. Sounds terrifying, doesn't it?

Then I remember, that it's ok to be sad. It's ok to be scared. He has never expected me to be a pillar of strength through all of this. I feel compelled to be..but not because God requires it of me.

The Light....

I love how tucked into the corners of the dark places, if you want to see it, there is always light. Light that will not be covered or consumed by the darkness. Light that shines on the silver linings and blessings so easily forgotten during the pity parties. I love how He always finds a way to show me how blessed I am....even in the moments when I feel like I can't get any lower.

I ache at the thought of being unable to comfortably squeeze my kids when I see them post surgery. But then....I have been blessed beyond what can be measured with two bright, gorgeous boys who are healthy.

I hate the idea of being away from Sycamore post surgery. But then I think about the 60+ amazing educators and support staff who will keep doing their thing, teaching; facilitating 'light bulb' moments....watching those bundles of hope and potential realize a little more each day how truly brilliant they are. I have a colleague who is all in and prepared to stand in for me to support students and families. I have a supervisor and superintendent who have shown me nothing but support during this journey.

I do feel alone sometimes. But the truth is I'm not and never have been. I am surrounded by friends, family and colleagues who DO care; have offered support limitless times; are praying for me and the boys constantly.

I hate that I have Cancer and that there is no part of my life that has not been negatively impacted by it. There are moments when I see nothing but the dark places. But at my core, I know the light is always there. I wish my story didn't have a 'Breast Cancer' chapter. But it certainly isn't the title of my life's book.

The theme of this post....
https://youtu.be/PAmh3yvmzXs



Until next time...