It's My Birthday and I'll Cry if I Want To

I'm all smiles and strength. That's what people need to see. That's what my kids need to see. That's what I need. 

Putting on a brave face does help me stay positive and hopeful even when times are hardest. It's like you can "trick" your emotions into being happy when that's definitely not the first emotion that you feel. You can say "things are going well" enough times and actually start to believe yourself. I know this is important in my path to becoming cancer free. A positive attitude can, and has been what I rely on to get through each day. I try to see how much I do have. 

My beautiful kids, my fairytale true love that I get to be married to, an awesome support system in friends and family, and so much more. I think the key to having a sunny outlook is gratitude. 

Even with all that said. I am sitting alone, on my 32nd birthday, in my hospital room (it has practically become mine because I've been here so often) and I'm sobbing. Not just getting teary, but sobbing uncontrolably. Tissues are all over the place in my dimly lit room. It doesn't happen often, and especially not when people are here. Just when I'm alone. 

I'm not ashamed of this because I feel like this is also a healthy behavior. It is cleansing. 

So because I don't break down often, when I do I do it right! I cry until my eyes are ugly puffy and my nose is red and hurts from blowing it so much. I just let myself get it all out and I usually feel better. 

It only takes a few minutes of this and I'm "cured" of my blues. I think the process of my treatments just start to wear me down and I don't realize it right away. My life has so many wonderful distractions (my kids and husband) that I don't get sad often anymore. 

Being in the hospital is a rude awakening to the seriousness of my situation though. I think I minimize it to help me put good energy and love into my family. Like I said, you start to believe yourself! 

Even as I am typing, I started out not even being able to see the screen through my tears...now I'm not crying. Writing is very therapeutic too. It helps me control my mind. 

Sometimes if I'm left alone with my thoughts too long I start to crumble...like now. So I start to type and it helps me realize that yes, I am crying and it is a major bummer to spend your birthday in the hospital, but I am grateful for so much.

So again I have changed my emotions through intentional actions and positive words and thoughts...until next time. And next time will definitely come, but I know I can get through this. Not only physically, but emotionally.

I am stronger than I think. Well more accurately, I am strengthened when I need it. I know that my faith in Jesus Christ is the rock I need to stand on. I know He suffered and died for us. I know that He knows my physical and emotional pain and He is there to send his angels to comfort me, and that I am never really alone. That is my testimony, in His holy name, amen.

Oh...and Happy Birthday to me!!!

My Last Radiation Appointment...

I walked into the office alone. I felt well enough to drive myself and I was proud of that. It was my last scheduled radiation therapy for the ever shrinking tumor in my brain, thanks to Dr Flores' expertise. After today the plan is just to get an MRI in 3 months. 

I am in the waiting room for what feels like 2 minutes before they call me into the radiation room with the Novalis machine in it. I had met with Dr Flores the day before, so I didn't need to see him today. 

Just my final radiation treatment.

Dr Nick Flores (far right) and the Novalis radiation machine

I knew the routine well. I have come out to Scottsdale everyday for the last few weeks. After a friendly greeting from the tech I remove my earrings and lay on the hard, narrow table. Making sure my head is cradled just right in the plastic head-shaped holder. She gets my "mask" and pins my head down to the table to ensure the correct position. 

"Is that okay?" She asks. 

"Uh-huh" I answer...trying to sound like I'm content. The sooner we start, the sooner it's over.

Me in my mask while lining up the laser

I now cannot move my mouth or jaw, only make throat sounds. Even though I say that I'm ok, putting that mask on my face seems to take my breath away for a split second every time. It is just so tight and fits my face exactly. I would think that having your face trapped and your head pinned down to a table would never  become a comfortable experience. No matter how "used to it" you get.

She lines up the laser lights on my head and says, "okay, here we go." Then she leaves the room.

Laying completely still the room is quiet for a few seconds, then the machine turns on. A series of buzzing and beeping sounds start up. There is a part of the machine that actually moves around my head, buzzing and I can see a flashing a light. 

This lasts about 6 minutes.

Finally the tech comes back in and starts to undo the latches that are holding the mask down. 

Ahhhh...done.

I grab my purse off of the table and give the girl a hug. She is sweet and we've developed a nice relationship.

"Alright, you're all done! You can take this home if you want." She hands me the mask.

I grin and say "why not" and take the weird contraption. Unsure if I really do want it. 

Wow. I'm not just done for the day...I'm done, done. 

While walking out of the office, I felt happy and proud of myself for completing this huge task. But I really had no one to share it with...because I drove myself. 

Bummer. 

To remedy this I was sure to talk to some unsuspecting people in the waiting room and proudly tell them it was my last day. They eagerly congratulated me and wished me well.

I stepped outside, into the parking lot and immediately stopped in my tracks. I had a thought that made me want to run back inside and ask if I have to be done. If they are sure radiation is over. Maybe I needed a few more just to be sure.

I started to tear up. 

What in the world would make me want my radiation treatments to last longer? 

Chemo. 

My oncologist was waiting for radiation to be over so we could start chemo. All of a sudden I was scared...and still alone. This part ending meant the next part had to begin. The worst part.

I guess I hadn't really dealt with my fear...despite the strong faith of my last post.

I slowly walked to my car and sat down. I cried as I texted my husband, Jess. The surprising feelings that seemed to dump onto me came out in my message. He promptly texted me back that he would call me as soon as he could get away from his work.

He is my rock and my strength. We we are not only still in love, but are the best of friends. 

I wiped my soggy eyes and got on the road. I had to move forward. It was the only way to reach my goals. I do feel like the finish line keeps being moved farther away, but I will never stop moving forward to get across it.

I got home fine. I got a chance to talk to my Jess. I cried more, but I was okay. I wasn't alone anymore. I was safely tucked into his arms and I never wanted to leave. 

He said he was proud of me. I knew we had to move on to the next step...scary as it may be. But we will do it together. We are a team.

Isn't he so cute? ;)

Jess and Val forever 

A Familiar Road

Today Jess and I met with my oncologist. I had a PET scan done about a week ago and it showed more lymph nodes affected by the lymphoma. I heard the phrase "just one chain of lymph nodes on the right side" (of my chest), but past that I am unsure about size or exact location.

Bummer. (understatement...haha!) 

This means what he is suggesting is more chemo. 

I don't know why exactly (I have an idea), but I felt so well prepared for this news. I am not upset, sad, mad, confused...or anything like that. I just feel ready to do this and complete the task ahead of me. I know this road. I've been here before. It's not a nice journey, but I can find the beauty in the scenery along the way. Good and happiness are all around. Sometimes life just puts you in a situation where you  need to work a little harder to find it. Bring it on because I am as stubborn as they come and I welcome a challenge...just ask my patient, loving husband of 12 years! Hehehe! :~D Plus I know that I am never going to have to travel my road alone. I have my friends, family and my faith in Jesus Christ to comfort me.

A long, windy road. Glad I don't travel alone!

I do have to get another MRI of my brain to see the progress of the tumor in there. My radiation oncologist is hoping for the best and possibly only having to do 5 more sessions of the radiation. Radiation has to be done before we can move to chemo.

Well, that's all I've got for tonight. I have been sleeping better since I've been off the steroid, so I have been feeling much better. I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts!

Good night and may we all be blessed by God's wisdom and feel His love.

Get THIS Song Stuck in Your Head!

We just recently watched this movie as a family. Beautifully done.

When Joseph's trials seem to come to an unbearable peak, this is the song of his heart.

It has been stuck in my head for days and is serving as a blessing to my spirit. A great "theme" to be running through my head during tough times.

The Brain is Beautiful

I found this picture of a brain and I just love it. It is alive, active, it is giving and receiving information, like it should. A beautiful picture.

I am big into using visualizations, so when I found this I knew how to exactly picture my healthy brain, as I want it to be! I use a few visualizations actually. Jess and I were finally able to SEE the growth in my head on Wednesday, and seeing it really helps me to visualize it shrinking with every treatment.

...on that note...

We knew there was a tumor in my brain. We knew it was big enough to cause problems...we even knew the approximate size in cm...but when you see the actual picture from inside of your head...having something in there that doesn't belong...you're never really prepared. It is never as small as you pictured or hoped. 

It was too big.

Of course I'm going to say that though. I want there to be nothing in there...well...good brain stuff...lol. You know what I mean.

We are currently working on getting good images of the scan to put up and update our website...

...but in the meantime, picture this:

Place a 1x1x1 inch mass about at the intersection of where the red, green and blue colors meet in this digram. Central to the back of the brain. It isn't on the "edge" or outside. It is embedded pretty well into the healthy brain matter. No  real "short" route to get there for the radiation beam.

Fortunately (with that as crazy as it sounds) all I'm struggling with is vision loss and balance problems. Physical things. Not memory loss, personality changes, problems with names, faces, or other even tougher things lose.

So grateful for that too!

***

Here is what it looks like when I am on the table getting my brain back to normal (as "normal" as I ever was, lol) . Kind of creepy. Kind of barbaric looking too. 

But I look strangely at peace here too. 

Having your face secured down onto a table forces you to find an instant happy place to be. That's when I use my favorite healing visualizations. It is a power my mind has that I want to let have full reign.

***

"My brain is a beautiful, complicated machine that is going to heal and fully function one day soon. The mass is shrinking everyday. My progress is growing everyday."

***

"More Of Me To Love"

...more of me to love?!??
*sigh*
This was my radiation Dr's cute (and actually kind of funny) comment as he and I were discussing the weight gain and swelling in my face and body. Due to the steroid that I have to take until the tumor is under control, I am dealing with this very uncomfortable feeling. I hate it.

Being very fitness-minded since I was 13 years old, sometimes the mirror is a hard foe to face.

I guess I am more vain than I like to admit...lol. I'm a girl! ;)

I'm only comparing myself to myself of course. I know my body. I know how it should feel. Even post baby, when I've had extra weight to loose, my body NEVER felt like this.

I'm short, and have a small frame, so an extra 15-20 lbs (I hope not more...ahhh) is very noticeable.
I often feel like I have a layer (or two) of bubble wrap around me. I have actually lost muscle control...so weird. I hate drugs...

So this is my venting post for today, BUT HERE IS MY POSITIVE SPIN...

Yes. I'm getting bigger and self-concious...but I'm ALIVE!

Yes, I've gained weight...but we are shrinking the tumor!

Yes, I may be wearing workout pants all the time...but I'm going to LOVE shopping when this is all over!

Yes, I struggle with it emotionally...but the beautiful thing is that Jess makes me feel no less beautiful. He is the glue that holds me together.

"More of me to love" is ok while we shrink the tumor.

I accept it and I embrace my life with gratitude everyday.

Such Early Mornings! My Spiritual Rise and Shine!

In waking up way too early (again) this morning I had to find myself something to do.

Yesterday I thought cleaning toilets and scrubbing floors was a good way to spend my early-morning energy... but this morning I sought out a spiritual message to set the tone for my day.

Yesterday it did work out quite well though!!! I cleaned in the quiet of a sleeping, peaceful house...then got to spend the rest of the day being able to focus on getting to doctor appointments, taking care of my kids and spending time with my family. Which made for a nice day! (Besides the fact that I got up at 3am!)

*sigh* Here is another early morning...might as well try to take advantage of the energy that I DO have when I have it comes!

***

So 3am rolls around again.  Awake probably because of my medication. There is much more cleaning to be done...but, no thanks. I decided to sit at my computer and go to www.lds.org.

There is so, so much on that site that I knew that I'd find something to "speak to me" and provide the words of inspiration and encouragement that I needed. My "tank" needed to be filled...and guess what...

...I was right! (I love it when that happens!!!)

With a few "random" clicks, this talk from the last General Conference (of the LDS church) just fell out of the screen at me.

No matter your denomination, the spirit when you feel when you hear/read good men speak of Godly things is undeniable...and I really needed to hear this talk at this moment.

I've actually listened to it twice from minute 9:45 on...touched and softened my heart.

***
I blog about this because, in the future, I want my children to know who real strength comes from. I want them to know that I had faith and worked everyday to learn to trust in God. It is my hope that if I grow my faith, I will be a better example and give them that much of a "head start" in their search for their own faith that can help them endure the struggles that will come in their lives.

It feels like one of my most important jobs as a mother and it is my prayer that I can do so adequately.

***

Joshua 1:5 "...I will be with thee: I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee."

 Ether 12: 6-9

6 And now, I, Moroni, would speak somewhat concerning these things; I would show unto the world that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.

 7 For it was by faith that Christ showed himself unto our fathers, after he had risen from the dead; and he showed not himself unto them until after they had faith in him; wherefore, it must needs be that some had faith in him, for he showed himself not unto the world.

 8 But because of the faith of men He has shown himself unto the world, and glorified the name of the Father, and prepared a way that thereby others might be partakers of the heavenly gift, that they might hope for those things which they have not seen.

 9 Wherefore, ye may also have hope, and be partakers of the gift, if ye will but have faith.