A Date

So.... after a long wait I finally have a surgery date. It will be the 22nd of July. Three weeks from tomorrow. It will be followed by 2-4 days in the hospital and then a long road back to awesome. And hopefully freedom from cancer.

Here's why it took so long. (The spirit of these conversations are true, but some of the language is made up)

Call #1 to plastic surgeon's office:

Me: I haven't heard from you for a few days. Do you need anything from me?

Office Staff (OS): No, we are submitting to insurance. We'll let you know when we have a date.

Call #2 to plastic surgeon's office:

Me: So you told me several days ago you were submitting to insurance. My husband called the insurance and they don't have anything.

OS: That's someone else's job. She didn't come in today. 

Me: Someone needs to get this resolved. I'm not going in for a tummy tuck. This is cancer. I need this surgery to happen as soon as possible. 

OS: We'll let you know.

Call back from plastic surgeon's office:

OS: The doctor has been on trauma call all week. I would have submitted to insurance, but I needed a code. And I couldn't ask him for a code because I haven't seen him all week. I finally, just now, miraculously, after you harassing me, located him so that I could get the code. 

Me: Well, I hope you have everything you need now because I'm really anxious to get this surgery. 

OS: You have to understand I couldn't do anything- not submit to insurance, not put you on the schedule -  until I had this code. This code is like the one ring. Without it I am powerless, but with it I can rule all manner of creatures and schedules. 

Me: (silently) You are a lazy, lazy woman. I can't believe you have a job.

Me:(out loud) Well, let me know if you need anything else. 


So, July 22nd it will be.

Today my coworkers all wore pink and brought pink food. It was really nice to see their support. I need it, especially considering that they will be the ones picking up the slack when I'm lying flat on my back watching "Parenthood" from the very beginning.

Eat, Pray, Love, Protest

So lots of people have been asking lately if I have any news. No I do not. I saw the plastic surgeon this week and while I am a great candidate for surgery etc, etc, I still need the blessing of the insurance company. So my case is now caught up in insurance and no one will schedule until I've been authorized (which I will be but it may take time). If that doesn't happen this week, I have a game plan. You know all those same sex marriage advocates? I figure they are probably getting bored and miss the lobbying/advocacy/protesting scene. Well, I'm going to round some of them up and head down to the insurance office. We may not have time to change the protest signs, so I may end up accidentally married to a woman by the end of the week, but at least I will have force behind me.

In the meantime, since Chris and I had to miss our vacation, my parents were kind enough to watch the kids so we could have a weekend in Denver. We had our own version of eat, pray, love.

Eat. (we ate A LOT this weekend)

Pray.

Love. (We all know Chris' first love is the theater. Actually this was the first production of anything he's seen. It was fun)

Then my fabulous friends put together a girls' night for me. It was great. I tried to get a picture of everyone, but I missed half the room because I got distracted and because my new phone is weird. There were 20+ friends there to support me. My sister came from Denver and a couple of great friends came up from Northern Colorado. It was amazing. One of the best parts is that Phyllis, one of the matriarchs of our girls group whom I have admired and loved for years came. She is a few weeks recovered from her double mastectomy performed by the same surgeon who will perform mine. That was an enormous comfort to me. 

These ladies let me laugh all night long and they brought me freezer meals so that I didn't have to cook while I was recovering which will be a great relief to me since the grilled cheese sandwiches I made for dinner tonight nearly wiped me out. My only concern is that my family will get used to this quality of meal. Hopefully they will be so happy I am recovered that they won't mind going back to chicken nuggets for dinner. 

Monica, you are an angel for putting this together. I'll love you til the day I die. So much that you could possibly be the woman I accidentally end up marrying by the end of the week. My apologies in advance.

And then, because I wanted to and because it made me happy, we went to see the fields of wildflowers that have sprung up east of town. 

So that was my week this week. Lots of love, lots of support and still no surgery scheduled. I'll keep you posted.

Cancer: a Story of General Loathing

I am putting this on my blog because I am exhausted. I have had the same conversation about 20 times over the last few days and I can't do it anymore. More importantly, I can't comfort the people I tell because I am so scared and upset myself. So, if I haven't called you or told you personally, it's not because I don't love you, it's because I am just plain exhausted. I am still a mom. I still have a full time job. I am tired even before having hours of sickening conversations every day.

I have breast cancer.

I'll put what I know on here and I'll try to post updates. So here goes:

I found it about two weeks ago. I was getting dressed for a workout and my hand brushed up against it. Seconds or minutes later (I don't know which), I woke up on the floor. I had passed out cold. At the time it seemed like an overreaction, but knowing what I know now it was completely appropriate.

I went to my doctor, she gave me a bit of false hope and a measure of concern. I begged for a same day appointment to get a mammogram, but there was nothing available. The next day I had to leave to go to Pittsburgh for work. For a week I waited and tried to distract myself. Fortunately, I got to travel with a coworker who became a friend over the course of the week. That helped a lot.

When I got back, I got a mammogram, then an ultrasound, then a biopsy. Then a phone call letting me know I have cancer. Yesterday I visited the surgeon. I immediately felt she was the right choice. I thought I would have to beg her for a double mastectomy. Instead, she spent half an hour trying to build her case for it until I cut her off. I told her that I needed to live more than I need breasts. I don't have any lifestyle risk factors, so the only risk I can eliminate is my breasts.

And then, heartbreakingly, Chris and I cancelled our biennial couple trip. We were supposed to leave tomorrow for the Florida keys, but I can't delay treatment another week. I'm already going insane. That has been one of the hardest parts of this process. Our marriage is built on these trips that happen every other year and we could really use the extra strength now.

So here's what I know so far:

• I have Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. It seems to be a little over a centimeter (which is larger than originally thought) and most likely involves some tissue around the duct. It is grade 3, which is the most aggressive and also the most common among young cancer patients. But it is small and that seems to indicate that it will be treatable. I won't know if there is lymph node involvement until after the surgery. If there is no involvement, my cancer will officially be Stage 1, if there is, it will be Stage 2 or higher. 
• I can't schedule a surgery yet because the plastic surgeon wants to see me before he will schedule. This is incredibly frustrating to me. I know it won't kill me to wait a week or two more, but I want it out now. My reconstruction will take place at the same time as the mastectomy, so both surgeons will have to coordinate. 
• I am having a double mastectomy because not doing so would be stupid and risky. Mammograms are ineffective on women under 50, and especially on someone like me. I have very dense tissue and very little fat, making a mammogram about as effective as a picture with someone's thumb over the lens. Combine that with the fact that I am 36, already have cancer and will have in increased risk for the rest of my life and I believe that anything other than a double mastectomy would be irresponsible. I have two kids that I really want to raise. I already nursed them, so there's no need to hang onto these cancer incubators. There will be a lot of pain involved, but it will be worth it. Yes, a lumpectomy may be effective when it comes to 5 year survival rates, but I want to survive a lot longer than 5 years. 
• Even if there is no lymph node involvement, I will need chemo. Again, this is because I am a 36 year old with cancer. Something has gone horribly wrong, the cancer is aggressive and I can't be treated like the typical 55 year old breast cancer patient. My surgeon explained it that most cancer patients need to live 20-30 more years. She wants to make sure I live 50 more years. 

People have asked if I need anything. Mainly I just need to know people support me. I can't be the one to comfort people right now (one coworker actually told me that if he found out he had cancer he would kill himself). My world has been turned upside down and I need to know that my friends and family love me and are praying for me. Also, if it seems like I've forgotten about my cancer for five minutes, let me forget. I will bring it up if I want to talk about it, I promise. 

Depending on scheduling, I may need people to help with childcare. My kids just watched their grandma die of cancer and they are terrified. I really honestly believe I will recover from this, but they are still worried. I want to make sure there is someone that they love and trust watching them while I go to appointments and what not. Also, I need someone to teach me how to pencil on eyebrows and apply fake eyelashes. The prospect of losing my hair is nothing compared to that of having a naked eyebrow area. It actually kind of terrifies me. For real. Please contact me if you have this skill.

I'm not quite sure yet what I need as a brand new primary president newly diagnosed with cancer. That one is harder. I am going to try to continue to serve, but I'm not going to dump it all on my counselors either. 

So far, it seems as though I caught this very early. I have to believe that God helped me find it. And I also have to believe that if He helped me find it, I have to believe that He also wants me to be cured. I will post any updates here so I can spend my energy on my family. So there it is. You know everything I know. I'll post an update when I have a surgery date. In the meantime, I love and appreciate all of you. Thank you for all your support, offers of help and prayers. 

Mama's Got a Big Back Porch and Other Tales

This last couple weeks has been pretty crazy. 

It all started with Emily's being awarded the "Super Sabercat" award. It means she lives by the Sabercat laws. 

She was also awarded a Million Word Reader prize, which consisted of a skip day at a place called "Fort Fun". (P.S. Each Harry Potter book has around 200,000 words. I now know this information.)

Jane graduated Kindergarten. She says when she grows up she wants to be a dance teacher. 

Then they had their last day of school, a grueling hour and a half. (notice the new sidewalk they are standing on - more on that later).

The last day turned out to be rainy, giving us plenty of time to spend at the library. 

That night we went to go see the girls' new cousin, Mila. She is Chris' brother's daughter and she is beautiful. She has the longest limbs I have ever seen on a baby. She clearly is related to me by marriage only. (Again, I apologize for the hobbit legs that you may or may not inherit from me, Emily and Jane)

They loved their new cousin. By all accounts, she will probably complete the cousin lineup, so the girls are drinking her in. 

Jane needs a lesson in personal space. One which Mila is happy to give her.

Chris is fondly remembering his days as a new dad. The memories of the sleepless nights get fuzzier as you get older. 

And lastly, we have a new big back porch. The contractors have been here for 2 weeks while the scope of the project gradually creeped away from us. First it was just the porch, then it was a pad in the side yard, then it was the cracked sidewalk out front. Our neighbors are properly annoyed, and so am I. You can see we haven't done anything with the new big back porch yet (save putting a tacky blue bucket on it and letting Emily park her hammock there). We have plans for a pergola, but right now, we are tired and broke. Concrete is expensive. 

As a postscript, I am now the primary president in our ward. I am so out of my league here. Our primary is enormous, over 100 children if you count nursery, which I do. Heaven help them. Heaven help me. But I have some great counselors and a very understanding husband. Alone I'm a lost cause but together we have a shot. 

Weird May Flower Candles -and- The "After" Photo

It's been a busy month and we're only a little more than halfway through. I thought I'd pull together some odds and ends. 

Emily had her "real" birthday. She asked for a hammock. This is an odd gift for a 9 year old, but we complied. We set it up in the backyard and she has spent almost every sunny minute in it since. Which has consisted of about two hours in the last week. We are on our way to the rainiest May on record. Some people say we need the moisture. I say I live here for the sunshine. We can agree to disagree. The weather doesn't care what I think anyway. 

Emily has been begging for this interesting candle for years. It looks like this in action. Emily says it scared her and she thought it was weird. She asked if we can have regular candles next year. 

The next day Jane had her first recital. 15 small children dancing to "Let it Go". It went completely as expected. Jane was so serious though. She really wanted to get those moves right. I was proud of her for being brave enough to perform in front of hundreds of people. 

She kept reminding us that one performance=one bouquet of flowers. She was delighted to finally get them. And while we're looking at Jane's forehead (no bangs are allowed in recitals).... she had a tiny rock in it for a couple years. It created lots of scar tissue. Last month she finally decided it was time to get the rock out. At the hands of a talented doctor, the rock was removed and only a tiny scar remains. 

And lastly, I hesitate to add this, but I wanted to record it for myself and for my girls. 

Last week I finally reached my goal weight. The loss wasn't dramatic and no one will even comment on it because the difference was only a few pounds. I didn't even go down a pants size. But here's why it was important: 14 years ago I gained some weight after I got married. It was a brief foray into that weight zone and I never approached it again even while pregnant. I lost the extra 40 pounds within a year or so and then continued losing very slowly. By the time I got pregnant with Emily I was the same weight I was in high school. I was two pounds lighter than that when I got pregnant with Jane. After I finished nursing Jane, I got down to a little below that. The last year, I've tackled the last 10 pounds. It started with a Dietbet last spring. And then another in the summer. And another this month. All in all, I've taken 14 years to lose 60 pounds. This has to be the slowest weight loss story of all time.

I have to admit I was a little disappointed when I reached my goal. My body isn't perfect. It isn't totally devoid of fat. I still have cellulite. My legs are still short and stocky. I'm a solid size 6, which I saw being defended as "larger" in a Hollywood news article a couple weeks ago. But I have to call this weight loss gig over. Because I can't maintain a lower weight and because I will never be perfect. But (this is what I want my girls to know) I am healthy. My blood pressure is good. My cholesterol is good. My joints aren't carrying too much weight. My body doesn't limit my choice of activities. I don't have to be on the sidelines. That is what maintaining a healthy weight is all about. Not about looking like some photoshopped magazine cover. 

I took my "after" photo for Dietbet this morning. I won't subject you to a 6 am selfie in my sports bra. Instead, I want to share with you what I feel is my real "after" photo. It is from Race for the Cure last summer. I don't look like an athlete, my form is terrible and I'm not perfect. But I had just finished a 5k 2 minutes faster than the year before. That's a way better feeling than being able to fit into a size two... I think... but either way, I'll never find out for sure. I'm good where I'm at. 

The American Dream

Several years ago, Grandma Carol gave Emily an American Girl catalog that had been sent to her house. For the next several months Emily paged through the catalog, read it at bedtime and even slept with it. She wouldn't rest until she had one of those dolls. We finally relented when she turned 6. Now she is getting ready to turn 9 and her grandest wish was not a birthday party with bouncy houses, but a visit to the American Girl store. 

The cherry on top of her fondest dream was to visit the store with her very first friend, Kaylee, who moved away from our town a couple years ago. Since Kaylee's house is on the way, we thought that was a splendid idea. So we loaded the kids up, drove to the big city and...

arrived where dreams are bought. 

I would wager there is more dollar value on the shelves of this store than in your average jewelry store. The girls were perpetually amazed, gasps of delight accompanying every turn. We told them they could each get one outfit. The choice was agonizing and delightful at the same time. 

Then each doll got a new hairdo. 

Jane couldn't stay away from the VW bug. It was $350. And a toy. Here I add that Chris once bought a whole truck for $500. It could haul wood and lawnmowers and large electronics. This car has lights that turn off and on. I can see why they want $350 for it. 

Each doll left the store with a new hairdo

and a new outfit.

The experience only got more fancy when we added some mall food court Chinese food. 

I asked Emily what the best part of the day was. I thought she would say something about the beautiful doll accessories or the thrill of having her doll's hair styled by a real certified doll stylist. She said, "Getting to see Kaylee was the best part of the day". 

It's nice to see she has her priorities in the right place. 

You'll be the Grandest Lady in the Easter Parade

So today is Easter. It felt a bit rushed this year among all the laundry and mild exhaustion from our trip. But it was great fun nonetheless.

We kicked off the weekend with a Good Friday Easter egg hunt hosted by our friends, the Martins. It was chilly in the park, but the kids were enthusiastic nonetheless.

Followed by refreshments, which I had decided to abstain from on account of my travel bloat. My abstinence went out the window when my friend Lisa brought out the homemade donuts. Willpower can only get you so far. 

While enjoying her loot, Jane decided her toenails were in need of a bit of color. I offered to do it, but she refused, saying she wanted daddy because "daddy is a good painter". Ouch. Oh well, we all have our strengths. And I cannot tell you how much I love seeing Chris interact with the kids. He is an amazing dad.

Yesterday we dyed eggs. Jane's favorite part was when an egg would break. Because then she got a snack. 

But most of the eggs survived long enough to get a dip. 

It's inevitable that the kids will lose attention during this activity. That's okay. When I pull the eggs out, I don't leave a brightly colored dribble on the counter top. 

As usual, the kids need loot. 

Their reaction was somewhat subdued. We later found out that was because they had sneaked down before we woke up and gotten a basket preview. 

Oh well. We still let them eat candy while we hid eggs. 

I love the enthusiasm of the egg hunt. 

I think we went a little overboard on the number of eggs. Note to self: There is no need to buy more plastic eggs next year. Your current supply is more than sufficient. 

Every few years General Conference falls on Easter Sunday. This year that happened. So we enjoyed listening while the kids ate more candy (and mom and dad dipped in a bit as well shhhhhhhh......)

The kids did their Easter program in church last Sunday on account of General Conference. Somehow in the hubub of leaving town we forgot to get pictures of them in their Easter dresses. Just imagine one girl in a sparkly dress and one girl in a purple dress. Both blond. Both missing multiple teeth. Both adorable. You get the idea. 

Happy Easter!