A friend so lovingly encouraged me today. She said, “I’m actually thankful that you continue to process all that cancer diagnosis and treatment and survivorship has been for you instead of rushing through it.” Thank you, Sarah. I needed that affirmation.

I agree with her – the culture we live in is so quick to ‘get over [it]’ and ‘move on already’… We’re so jumpy to conclude those parts of our stories because … well … I’m not entirely certain why. Is it subconscious? If so, where do the subtle messages come from telling us that we have to hurry the process? Is it because we move too fast in general? If so, why do we think fast is better? Is it because that part of the story hurts so much? If so, why are we so quick to move on?

It feels interesting to me that while we (read: collective cultural messaging) highlight and encourage strength and empowerment and resilience, ‘flexed biceps’ and ‘solidarity ribbons’ and ‘the survivor mindset,’ we tend to shortchange the very pain that develops said strength, empowerment, resilience and bicep strength.

Don’t we?? I think we acknowledge that pain is owed its purpose. But. . . . .we quickly skim it’s surface to avoid the sinkage into its deep-sludgy-process.

This was totally me before cancer. Pain mattered. Pain proved purpose. Pain was worth the lesson. Yes. Yes. Yes. But what cancer is teaching me is that I am absolutely strong to sink.

*Post 911

Rest :: 10/2/17 :: Post 35

I woke up emotional. I woke up overwhelmed with the inevitable unknowns ahead. I woke up wanting to go back to sleep and sleep away the fears. I woke up stuck between the reality of the painful present and the desperate desire for the ignorant past and the yearning for the answered future. I woke up in a place that I have not woken up to in years. I loved our morning routine, our crazy get-out-of-the-house chaos, the drive to work, getting to the office and settling in for a day in the unknowns of crisis counseling. Today, the foreign feeling of, “I don’t want to go to work” hit me hard because I never imagined I’d be in a place that brought forth that expression. 

None of this is to say that I don’t like my job, or I wasn’t looking forward to seeing some of my most precious people (not to mention the fact that if I’m gonna experience crisis, working at a place that does crisis every day means that there is an abundance of love and grace and support and encouragement). But it is to say that I woke up not wanting to be up and facing an old routine when I can never go back. 

There is that part of me that doesn’t want to go back because everything I experience has purpose and is making me, me…I don’t want to go back because God and I are committed to not wasting anything. I have survived other hard stuff…so I know its value. And I know it’s possible and beautiful and ultimately good.

But another part of me wants to go back. Back to the way it was before…back to a routine that didn’t have so much hardness in it…that didn’t have so much heart wrenching, soul smothering pain. And man, when it [heart wrenching, soul smothering pain] hits…….it hits hard.

How do I do an old routine when I literally cannot see anything the same as I once did?

All of these thoughts were swirling in my head and it wasn’t even 5:30am. I was in my chair, crying and wishing it all away. But I knew I had to get up. And the longer I sat there, the more chaotic the morning was going to get… Getting a shower, getting ready, getting dressed, doing my hair for the first time in 3 weeks, doing my physical therapy exercises, finding my keys, getting my meds together for the day, making sure I had what I needed for work, making a lunch, eating breakfast…….and that’s just ME! All while Chris is getting 3 girls up and ready for their days, helping make sure Annie had everything she needed for her school project and her crazy hair and sock day at school, ensuring that the “bigs” as we call them had everything they needed….. So yeah, I had to choose to get up. I had to choose to face it all. 

But showering is hard. (I can barely reach the top of my head)

And what to wear when I look so different? (I cried looking at myself today) 

And doing my hair when the countdown is on to it being gone. 2 more Mondays….2.More.Mondays. And then it’s gone. (I don’t care right now that it will grow back. I know that. But it’s so far away)

And those exercises hurt like hell. (And they take forever)

And what to pack for lunch when I have an awful appetite? (Nothing sounds good and certain foods are bad for me and others are good for me, but I can’t remember)

And eating breakfast when nauseous. (Blech)

But, I made it through all of those things. I got up. I did them all. I helped get kids ready. I took one to school and Chris took the others. I participated… 

And then God and I had a long talk on my drive in to work. What in His name was the day going to be. What did He have in it for me. If I have to walk this (and walk out everything I feel I am learning) than what posture did I need to be in to walk it out throughout my day?

God gave me this: Quiet Presence. Breathe in – Quiet. Breathe out – Presence. Breathe in – Stillness. Breathe out – Be. Just like I wrote yesterday, finding quiet in the midst of chaos. Being where my feet are. That was my mantra today. Those phrases got me through my day. 

And I had some very good moments. I felt normal and fell into old routines. I’d have a co-worker ask, “how are you holding up?” and I could respond honestly with, “I’m doing pretty okay!”And it WAS so good to see some of my very favorite people. And it was life-giving to get hugs from them. 

And God saw to it that I saw clients. On my first day back in 3 weeks, still hurting from a massive surgery, dipping my toes back into the water, having not seen clients for a good 5 weeks overall………. And He brought a busy day to the office. He’s up to something…that’s for sure. So, I saw clients. I wasn’t planning on it. And they were difficult. But I’m grateful. It was a sweet reminder of why I love my job and that God has designed me for this even in my own crisis. 

And then there was the wall. I hit it a few times. I needed a walk around the block and some emotional reset timeouts. The emotions hit… Moments where I imagined myself working 3 weeks from now with a wig. Or bald. Or a scarf. Or a hat. And I cried. Moments where I passed a mirror in the bathroom and saw myself and how different I look. And I cried. Moments where I wanted to quit and never come back because it’s too hard of a reminder that I literally cannot ignore or escape reality even amidst distraction. And I cried. Moments where I would go to do a normal thing [using a 3-hole punch] and not be able to do it because I had my boobs literally cut out of me 3 weeks ago and I’m far from better. And I cried. Moments where I had to ask for help because I was too weak to do it myself. And I cried. Moments where I was angry with myself for making this a big deal. And I cried. 

I got in my car for the drive home and I noticed how very tight my healing muscles were. I was so good about taking moments to breathe, sit in the quiet, stretch out my sore muscles, ease into the work… and even with that, I was exhausted. And I still had a drive home, in the rain. And then everyone else was home. And then Chris and I debriefed about our days. And then the girls told us about theirs. And then we had dinner. And then I got my daily foot rub from my momma (yes, I just said that…she is the best momma EVER). And then I had to do my physical therapy (again). And then I had to re-bandage my drain holes (again). 

And it was then that I could finally decompress. At 9pm… my heart feels heavy and laden. The emotions have taken over and I have let them.

I survived my day. I am better, stronger and more resilient for it…even in my pure exhaustion. I will do it again tomorrow. It will get easier. And then harder. And then easier again. Because every moment is a new place I’ve never been. 

Just like the “quiet” will never be the same for me…..nor will “rest”

Dig Pink :: 10/2/18 :: Post 384

It was Dig Pink night at Caty’s volleyball game. 

Seeing my girl emotional when she handed me a survivor’s flower did me in. And then seeing her teammates all emotional because they love their Caty. And then both Caty and I getting hugs from her teammates because they are a special group of girls and they love so sweetly………. my heart is full.

It is a special night especially because yesterday was what it was. It is a precious celebration that comes after a life-changing experience. 

We’ve done hard things. And I’m proud of my girls. 

And I’m grateful. 

October 2 of 31 :: 10/2/19 :: Post 747

I was telling my hairstylist this evening all about Albert and my tattoo…and it made her cry. It’s been so amazing getting to tell that part of my story and share with those that I’m telling, all about Albert and this incredible gift. 

Then Lindsey wanted to follow him on Instagram because of this story.

So, I went and looked him up and found that he had posted a picture of our finished tattoo (I had given him permission) and then wrote these words:

“True strength is marching to the beat of your own drum even after everything has gone wrong. True strength is a loyalty and trust in your true self when you’re hanging on by a thread. True strength is not giving up on the love in your heart after you’ve been beaten and abused. True strength is surrender, gratitude and service unto others without expectations. This tattoo is my gift to Amber and her gift to me was allowing me to be part of her story, her healing and even her scars. Thank you for the opportunity.” 

And then I cried. 

Breast Cancer Awareness Month…
…Day two – Let people feel what they are feeling even if it is hard for you to watch.