To the Army of Angels

One thing people say a lot when they learn you've been through cancer treatment is "Oh, you're so strong." Not that this is a bad thing to say, but the truth is, no one gets though cancer treatment without an army of supporters. I've been thinking a lot lately about all the people who helped me while I was going through treatments and surgeries. On this Thanksgiving, I want to recognize the army of angels who comforted, encouraged, assisted, and healed me.  

Keith

He sacrificed everything to take care of the kids and me, including a year of school. He loved me and told me I was pretty even when my skin was green and I didn’t have hair. He held me in his arms and stroked my hair when I was scared, and reassured me countless times that I would be healed. He took the kids fishing and camping so I could rest. He endured the burdens and stress that come with having a sick spouse and three little kids. He is my best friend and the love of my life. I don’t know what I’d do without him, even now that I’m well.

Dad

After my first chemo treatment, my dad became my chemo buddy. He’d drop me off, go to work, then come take me home when I was done. When he had the day off he’d sit in the chemo room with me and talk to me, taking my mind off the stuff dripping into my veins. He brought me cream of cauliflower soup from Zupas and whatever else I felt like eating. He stayed with me overnight in the hospital after surgery when Keith had to be at home with the kids so I wouldn’t have to be alone. One night I stayed at my parents because Keith took the kids down to St. George. It was in the middle of my chemo treatments, and all the horrible effects were starting to kick in. I was terrified, and I went to the bathroom and cried my eyes out, feeling utterly alone and hopeless. A little voice reminded me I wasn’t alone, reminded me I had a friend in my Dad. I went to his room and talked to him, then asked him for a priesthood blessing. He put his hands on my head and spoke words of comfort that could have only come from a loving Heavenly Father, and I was grateful to have a friend in my Dad that night. Of all my family, my dad could relate to my suffering the most, as he’d just undergone a grueling six-month treatment called interferon that made him as sick as the chemo made me. He also came over and fixed stuff in my house. Thanks for everything, Dad.

Mom

Mom was there to make sure I didn't have to worry about anything but getting better. She cleaned my house, helped with bills, bought me all sorts of things to cover my bald head, new pajamas and a comfortable bed. She planted my yard with colorful flowers so that I would have something beautiful to look at in the spring. She made me chicken noodle soup and brought me anything I wanted to eat. But most of all, she did what a mother does best: she loved me, encouraged me, told me that everything was going to be okay. 

My brother Dan

One day as I was sitting at the cancer center with a needle in my arm, watching Taxol drip into my veins, my mom called and said that Jonas had pushed a bead up his nose and she couldn't get it out. She was frazzled and upset – three little kids to take to the instacare, one of them crying hysterically, and their mother – her daughter, miles away hooked up to an IV. My brother Dan happened to show up to mow our lawn, and he met my mom at the instacare. He took Graham and changed his diaper, then spent the rest of the time trying to calm Jonas by making jokes about all the things he himself had gotten stuck up his nose (I believe this included a rhinoceros, and then he tried to shove Graham up his nose, which finally got Jonas laughing). He was an angel that day. He comforted my mom, me, and my children. He also came over on Saturdays to mow the lawn and fix things around the house to take some weight off Keith's shoulders. Dan, you’re the best brother a girl could ask for.

My sister-in-law Shellece

Shellece took care of my kids, cleaned and organized my house, folded laundry, did fun activities with the kids, and helped the kids make a cute get-well poster for me when I was in the hospital after one of my surgeries.

My Children

My sweet little boys gave me a reason to fight. They needed me. They kept me upright when I wanted to lie down and wallow in despair. They told me they loved me even when I couldn’t be the mother they deserved. They comforted me when no one else could. One night I was feeling really sick and I couldn’t sleep because I was hurting so much. Graham woke up crying, so I went and got him out of his crib and held him in the rocker in his room. He fell back asleep, and nothing could have comforted me more that night than watching my sweet little baby sleeping peacefully in my arms.

My sister Mishca

Mishca helped clean my house, babysat, brought over dinners, and listened to me when I needed someone to talk to. I love you, Mishca, and I admire so much about you.

Keith's sister Kim

Kim was my angel the week after I had my mastectomy. She stayed at our house and took care of the kids, made me fruit smoothies, helped me change my dressings and did everything else I needed, all while studying for her final exams to become a nurse practitioner.

Keith's mom Linda

Linda came up for a week and stayed with us during chemo. She cooked and cleaned, and sewed me a dozen head scarves from fabric I'd picked out. They turned out to be my favorite and most comfortable scarves.

Ramona Whitaker

My sweet neighbor Ramona used to come over every few days to sit on the patio swing with me and talk. She'd recently lost her son, who was my age, and so we would comfort each other by talking about everything we were feeling. She always had something to share to bring me comfort and strength for the rest of the day.

Kim Blanchard

Kim was a neighbor and two-time breast cancer survivor, and when I first received my diagnosis, she came over and talked to me for over an hour, answering my questions and sharing her own experience. Throughout my treatments, she was one of the few who truly understood what I was going through. She called me on one of my worst days and let me cry and vent, and she always seemed to know what to say to make me think positively.

Countless friends who took care of my children, and who emailed, mailed cards, gave me gifts or posted to my blog. Your words encouraged and inspired me, made me feel loved and supported, like I wasn't fighting the battle alone. Candice Carbine, Becca Brough, Stacy Haight (who gave me the idea to blog in the first place), Valerie Sorensen, Tracy Benites, Monica Susaeta, Krystal Hazlett, John Gottschall, Angie Melton, Chelsea Forsythe, Kim Porter, Alicia Ferrer…just to name a few. There are many, many more!!! There were also many neighbors who brought us meals, prayed for us, encouraged us, and babysat.

My visiting teachers and home teachers

Jill Miller was one of my visiting teachers, and she watched my kids on countless occasions, and she was always there when I needed her. My home teachers, Paul Nutt and Justin Berg, came over more than once to give me blessings late at night, even though they had their own families to take care of. 

Aunts/cousins

I received multiple packages in the mail from my Aunt Marilee, my cousins Melissa, Misty, Grace, and Amanda, filled with tear-invoking cards, books, and a large stuffed pig whose sole purpose in life was to comfort me.

 

Cindy Ferguson

She was friend of Keith’s that I’d never met. She’s an artist and makes beautiful, intricate paper cuttings. She gave Keith a copy of one of her pieces to give to me, entitled “Woman with an issue of blood,” which depicts the woman who believed that if she touched the hem of the Savior’s clothing, she would be healed. She was healed through her faith in Christ. I framed and hung this picture in my bedroom, and when I was going through treatment I’d look at it every day. It reminded me to have faith that Christ had the power to heal me, and it brought me hope and strength to get through each day.

It's been two years since my last chemo treatment, and I'm grateful to still be cancer-free! But I wouldn't have gotten through the fight without the love and support of my friends and family. On this Thanksgiving, I'm grateful for you!!!

Thankful

Happy Thanksgiving!

What have I been up to these last three months? Everything except updating my blog, that's what! Here are some of the things I've been doing:

We went to St. George and Zion National Park with my entire family - Parents, brother, sister, and their families. We had fun hiking, shopping, and playing candy poker. I lost all my candy because I suck at poker, but my brother had pity on me and gave me some of his.

We got two kittens. That's right, two. We got the orange one first, but he was a stray and terrified of people at first, so he spent most of the time hiding under the bed. So we got the gray tabby thinking, she'll show him how to be a normal cat, or at least give him someone to hang out with while he hides under the bed all day. Now they both come out to snuggle, but only after the boys go to bed. Why are they so afraid of three little boys? Maybe it's Liam's screaming. Or Graham's stomping. Or Jonas' flailing arms.


Pumpkin carving. Need I say more? Keith did the awesome one on the right, I did the "fire face" on the left per Liam's request. Yah, I know, Keith's is eight million times better. But mine is more scary, right?

The first day it snowed, the boys insisted we go outside and build snowmen. They melted that afternoon, but they were fun while they lasted.

On this Thanksgiving, I'm thankful that I wake up each morning and breathe. I'm thankful for the strength I have to fold clothes and prepare meals and change diapers. For the time I get to spend with my family doing fun things. For hair. Curly, short hair. For my sweet, funny, hardworking husband. I love my life and I feel so blessed.

First Kidder

I know what you're saying. "What? She changed her background again? And her blog title? Can't she decide on an image and stick with it? I feel so disoriented." Well, just to warn you, I'm still not happy with the background, so I will probably change it again.  : )

About a year ago when I first started chemo treatment, I had a dream that I walked Jonas to kindergarten. It was a very comforting dream, because at the time, I wasn't sure if I would live long enough to ever be able to walk him to school.

Yesterday, my dream came true. I tucked some freshly sharpened pencils and new erasers in Jonas' backpack, sat Liam and Graham in the double stroller, and walked Jonas to school. I watched him skip happily in front of me, and we didn't even make it to the school before my chin started quivering.

He lined up with all the other kindergartner's, and he beamed with excitement as I joined the parental paparazzi, snapping pictures from every possible angle. Behind my sunglasses, a couple tears escaped, but I held it together to avoid being stereotyped as a "first-kidder." But as soon as the teacher led all the kids into the school, I dashed away, and made it to the street before I started sobbing. It wasn't just that my first little boy was grown up enough to go to school - it was that I lived to see him go to school. I said a silent prayer on my way home, thanking God for allowing me to take my little Jonas to school.

When I got home, I went in the back yard with Liam and Graham, and I lay down under a tree. It's become one of my favorite things to do. When I was getting radiation treatments, on the ceiling above the machine, they had a picture of flowering cherry branches hanging over a blue sky. It was winter at the time, and I used to imagine that it was springtime, that I was actually lying beneath a tree, and that I was well. Now that I am well, I love to lie under trees and look at the sky through the branches. Call me weird if you want. I guess I just appreciate simple pleasures more than I used to...


Life is good, I feel great, and I continue to hope for the best!

Checking In

It's been a couple months since I've blogged, but that's a good thing because it means I don't have much to report. A couple weeks ago I had the lumps in my back biopsied, and they turned out to be "benign connective tissue." So now, after an x-ray, ultrasound, biopsy, and five doctors telling me it's nothing, I feel I can finally lay the issue to rest.

I had my second reconstructive surgery on Thursday, July 8th, and I am pleasantly surprised at how much less painful it was than the mastectomy. Other than throwing up five times from the anesthesia, it's been smooth sailing. I can't lift anything for a couple weeks, but at least the pain is manageable.

As of July 13 I will have 8 months NED (no evidence of disease). The longer I have NED, the smaller the chances are that it will ever come back. After 3 years, I can say I am cured. I look forward to that day!

I have been feeling great, pretty much back to normal. I've been doing aerobics a few times a week and riding my bike. I LOVE having so much energy!

Well that's it for now. I think I'll succumb to my percocet-induced drowsiness....

Oh, one more thing - I finally finished the rough draft of my book! Now a couple revision runs, feedback from family/friends/editors, then off to literary agents/publishers. My goal is to have it ready for submission in six months.

2010 Race for the Cure

Good, Bad, Good

I'll start with the positive things, then I'll whine a little, then end with something uplifting. Sound good?

Okay, here are the positive things:

• Keith got a big grant for school next year, so we don't have to pay for tuition!
• I am running/walking in the Race for the Cure on Saturday for Team Haven. I got my T-shirt today, and the back says S"Haven" our Ta-Ta's. Um, okay. Well, I didn't really save mine, but I guess that's not the point...
• I have the world's cutest kids.
• Our "Lagoon Savings" jar has lots and lots of pennies. It has some bills and quarters in it too, but mostly pennies.
  
• I'm almost finished with the rough draft of my book. And boy, is it rough. There are some sparkling gems buried in it though, which I am very, very excited about.

Now for a little bit of whining:

I've changed the title of my blog, because I've decided today that this war is over, and I've won. The truth is, I've been thinking about cancer way too much. I've spent the last few weeks prodding and searching my body for signs of metastasis, and I'm beginning to drive myself (and my doctor) mad.

First there was the harmless vein that poked out of my wrist, a couple little bruises, and a low grade fever. I figured the cancer was in my bone marrow. Had a blood test, and the nurse told me everything looked normal.

Then a couple weeks ago I found a couple symmetrical lumps in my lower back on either side of my spine. So I decided the cancer was in my lymphatic system. I went to see the PA, and he said that it was probably nothing and we shouldn't do anything about it. So I started crying, and he ordered an x-ray and ultrasound just to make me feel better.

The x-ray and ultrasound didn't show anything suspicious, so I felt a little better, until yesterday. My neck felt a little sore for some reason, so I started prodding around and felt something on my neck where it meets my collar bone. I convinced myself again that the cancer must be in my lymphatic system. So I called my doctor's office again. The PA called me back and said they looked at my x-ray again, and they reassured me that I was going to be okay and that there was nothing wrong.

After I hung up the phone, I started sobbing. It's a good thing Jonas and Liam were at preschool, and Graham was asleep, because I basically broke down. Not because anything is physically wrong, but because I am so tired of being scared all the time. And I haven't wanted to talk to anyone about how I feel, because I don't want to burden anyone. Besides, no one seems to understand anyway.

So I knelt down to talk to the only person who does understand. I didn't say much, mostly just cried. It was one of those times that I "knew not what I should pray for as I ought: but the Spirit itself made intercession for me with groanings which cannot be uttered." (Romans 8:26)

I prayed, and cried, and then I sat there and listened. A peace came over me, and words came to my mind, reassuring me (for the hundredth time) that I am healed; that I'm going to be okay; that I am going to be around for a while. I was reminded that I need to be patient as my body continues to heal.

I've also been thinking a lot today about a story Gordon B. Hinckley once told. He was talking about how he was discouraged on his mission, and he received a letter from his father saying, "Dear Gordon, I have your letter... I have only one suggestion: Forget yourself and go to work." He said he made a pledge to try to give himself to the Lord, and after that, "the fog lifted, the sun began to shine in his life." I know this works. Whenever I forget about myself and focus on helping other people, my fears dissipate, and I am filled with hope and happiness. So if you ever see me mumbling to myself, I am probably saying, "Sarah, forget yourself, and go to work."

Okay, now here is the uplifting part:

Tonight, Keith showed me an inspiring video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KHDvxPjsm8E


It was exactly what I needed. It was a great reminder that it doesn't matter what cancer has done to my body, as long as I am still here for my family.

Running, Writing, & Hypochondria

The fear that I felt last month has mostly gone away. Most of the time I feel at peace and hopeful that the cancer will never return. I spend a lot of time reflecting on the blessings I received during treatment, my patriarchal blessing, and experiences in the temple that reassured me that I still have too much work to do to leave this life yet.

But a few days ago, a little vein popped out on the top of my wrist, and it was all bruised around it (I don't remember hitting it on anything), and I noticed a few tiny red dots on my skin. I've also had a low-grade fever since my hysterectomy (almost 8 weeks ago). So of course, I turned to the most reliable source of panic-inducing information: the internet. I discovered that these are some of the symptoms of leukemia. So for a couple days, I was panicking, thinking the cancer had spread to my bone marrow. I called my doctor, and they had me come in for a blood test, not because they were concerned, but because they wanted me to stop panicking.

Well, my blood looked great, and they said if the cancer was in my bone marrow, it would have affected my blood counts. But they also have no idea what is causing the fever, or the protruding vein and bruise ("maybe you hit your wrist," they said). But they don't think my symptoms have anything to do with my cancer. They aren't too concerned about the fever since it is low, but hopefully it will go away on its own so I can stop worrying about it!

Yesterday I went running for the first time in a year. I put Graham in a stroller and ran behind Jonas and Liam on their bikes. It was such a beautiful day and it felt wonderful to run without getting tired. We went to the church parking lot and Jonas got off his bike and raced me. Of course I let him win.

I've been writing like crazy lately, working on my book for a couple hours every day. It is a novel I started working on three years ago (what can I say, I've had some serious setbacks). I've made a goal to finish the rough draft by May 19th. Keith is being so supportive. He wrote "May 19" on our bathroom mirror with a dry-erase marker to remind me, and he gives me time to write every night while he puts the boys to bed. The only problem is I've been staying up way too late, because once I get in the zone, I can't stop!