Five Minute Friday~Quiet

We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that are posted at 1 minute past midnight EST every Friday.

No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.

Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.

Quiet

It lays upon my home like a somber blanket, muffling sounds of life and joy.  I glare at my aquarium as even the cascade of the filtered water feels loud and out of place in this home.

It is not a quiet of peace.  It not the quietness of a soothed spirit.

It is the silence of the empty nest.

There are not hoots of laughter, no chortles of delight.  There's not any rhythm of life.

It is lonely.  Forgotten. Unnecessary.

I wish I could hug those impatient young moms at the grocers and explain to them - seriously - how quickly the sounds of their life will silence down to this quiet.  The total lack of sound, beyond your own breath.  It's hard to find joy, without the circle of family distracting you with their noise.  The quiet is deafening.

And this totally depressing, discouraging and defeated description is why we start looking for grandchildren!  So once again the quiet of our home is shattered by a child's squeal, the obnoxious happiness of a push popper that makes our teeth itch with irritation.  There's new clutter surround the perfection of our sterile lives.  We love all the textures, smells and toys.   The cuddles and stories, there is abject joy that abounds as we look into the young faces of the future.

The sounds of laughter and play surround so completely that we count the hours until the grand-babies go home and we are once again cocooned within our "quiet."  But now it is a comforting quiet because it's not permanent.  We can rest in this because we know another play date with grandma is coming quickly.

My son, "Little Man" around a year of age...playing with grandma and grandpa

Pink Ribbons - Chemo Class

Pink Ribbons is a feature series I have started that is posted every Wed.  I am a Pink Ribbon Warrior, having gone through the chemo, surgery, radiation, the year of waiting and recently stage 2 reconstruction...which I find is really the first of many little surgeries.  I am at a place in my life where I am willing to open my journal from that time and share with you my anger, fears, challenges and pain of finding out you have cancer.  At the end of the post, you will find the links of the previous posts from the most recent first and going back.  These are not current events.  This is me sharing with you from the other side of breast cancer.

I actually wrote this after my first chemo treatment, but placed it here on the blog for continuity.

I am finding that a lot of people aren't familiar with chemo or the effects on a person. As some said...they thought it was mostly nausea. Ironically the nausea is a side effect most easily controlled. I do have some kind of nausea...the stomach clamps down and just hurts.

So welcome to chemo class.

I'm to be given two drugs for breast cancer...Cytoxin and Taxotere.

The common effects are as follows....

Nausea and vomiting. But they give medications to control that. Before I'm even given the chemo...they start with an iv med called Aloxi. It is an anti-emetic which means it's for nausea and vomiting. This wonder drug stays in your blood for FIVE days! I could definitely tell as it wore off. My actual nausea is under control.

The second effect is loss of appetite. I got that big time. Even when I do manage eat a little, seriously 2 - 3 bites and the stomach cramping starts and I have to quit. I have lost 12 lbs in a week. I know a good deal was water because I was retaining fluids like a sow. My cankles are now gone.

Next on the list is hair and nail loss. Losing your hair seems to be the classic effect of chemo, something everyone expects and notices.    It's nearly the first question asked when you hear "chemo"..."Will I lose my hair?  The worst thing about losing your hair is that you suddenly LOOK ill and people who don't know you start treating you like you are dying.   The other thing I notice is my hair insulated my head more than I ever knew.  I am freezing....I wear caps all day and night time too because my head just feels too cold for comfort.   Many people don't like using wigs and I admit I have a hard time keeping my wig in one place.  It slides all over, so I leaned more toward hats and scarves.

Red Wig from the American Cancer Society

Blond wig from the American Cancer Society
nearly my real hair color

Loved this pink hat purchased from the ACS,
along with a curly blonde "hair halo" from them
as well.

  

Newsboy's cap purchased from ACS
also a CLASSIC example of 'roid rash.  Even my
eyelids burned from the red rash.

Head Wrap TAUGHT to me by the ACS,
Scarf was gift from my mom.

Nails - They recommend using nail hardener and I have been.  (They did not tell me this effect lasted months after your chemo.  I used nail hardeners until the last week of my chemo.  Then in Dec. *2 months later* I noticed one afternoon that my fingertips were tender.  I pulled off my gloves -I'd been outside in the cold - and discovered all but one nail had lifted over halfway back from the free edge.  This made the fingers very tender and the nails very fragile.  I had to cut them back as far as I could to prevent them snagging on fabrics and tearing off.  But I learned too far back was painful as well.  There is a paper thin lining under the nail that I inadvertently clipped.  I howled (it hurt) and bled like I'd cut the finger nail off.  So to prevent your nails from lifting...continue to use nail hardeners at least 3 months and preferably 6 months after your chemo has completed.)

My nails the last week of chemo...the only part of my body
at that point not suffering.  Nail hardener polishes were
mailed to me by my WOW friends from around the country.

Next is bladder irritation. I have to drink fluids like a horse to keep that from happening.  They had me so afraid of this, that I drank about 125 oz. of water daily.

Next is stopping of menstrual cycles. That may take more than one chemo cycle. Frankly I'm looking forward to that effect. Well except for the hot flashes...(In hind sight I can tell you that Aunt Flo was tougher than chemo.  Although I was told chemo would stop periods...it did not for me.  Lupron injections did and the hot flashes WERE intense.)

Then the lovely sore mouth or throat called stomatitis. It can actually happen anywhere along the digestive system. But I swish and spit a saline solution every 4 hours to keep it from happening.

Then next you have the risk of an allergic reaction. Taxotere is famous for causing it. So that's why they add steroids to the chemo AND I have to take dexamethasone the day before the day and after chemo.

Chemo also causes fluid retention.  This is another reason you are given dexamenthasone...it causes you to PEE like a cow in the field. You will believe you have just removed every ounce of fluid IN your body only to realize about 20 minutes later that your bladder is full again.  Your skin, hair, nails and mucous membranes however will be dry, cracked and bleeding.  It can cause diarrhea and I can attest that yes sir it does. :(

Chemo can give you a rash. I haven't gotten one this time at least. I developed intense red, burning rashes from the steroids taken to prevent the chemo rash.  Go figure.

Chemo can cause numbness in the hands and feet. I have had something like that. Kind of like carpel tunnel syndrome.  The more chemo you get, the more possible this effect.  (I did not notice this to be a problem until after my third dose.  It lasted about 6 months...mainly in my toes and my right thumb.  That was irritating.  A sore thumb might stick out but so does a numb thumb.  I lost count how many times I smashed it against something.)

Then there's fatigue. They said it would be like early morning sickness. And early on I think it was.  Again, this is a cumulative effect, meaning it intensifies after each dose.  (By the 4th dose, I felt like a sloth.  Simply unable to move.  It was way more intense than morning sickness.  I had a lot of soups because I was just too tired to chew food.)

Then there's the muscle pain. Only 20% of people on CT will develop muscle pain. I won that lottery. Doc gave me percocet and  with a lot of sleep it helped me get through the pain.   It was singly the hardest thing for me to cope with during chemo...the constant aching and throbbing of muscles and joints. (I don't know this is proven scientifically...but since my chemo I notice intense muscle and bone pain in cold, damp weather.  It seems that chemo sensitized my bones and muscles and they always react to the damp with pain.)

Late in the first week you have low blood counts. As red blood cells diminish you feel a special kind a fatigue. It's like a weary to the bone kind of fatigue and you find yourself puffing just getting up to go to a bathroom. White blood cells and platelets go down too. Basically your bone marrow has stopped working.

Because of the low blood count ....for those at risk they give us an injection called Neulasta. The Neulasta forces the bone marrow to work like a little sweat shop to create white blood cells. That medicine causes bone pain because of the sweat shop effect. It will help protect me from infection but it will hurt as well.   (I will share about the Neulasta injections in a upcoming post.)

Chemo is more than just vomiting and nausea.

So what did I learn in Chemo Class?

Fighting cancer with chemo SUCKS!

Chasing Sleep

Tonight, I sit in a quiet room and my jaw comes nearly undone with yawn that unhinges me.  I am sleepy.  To some of you in perpetual sleepiness this may seem mundane, but I have found how joyful it is to be sleepy.  To get sleep, zzz's or shut eye, it is a blessing.

The first week of August something happened inside my head (Mr. Rosey tells me that is a rare occurrence of any sort).  I lost the ability to get sleepy.  I would dress for bed, lay down and my brain would take off to the races.  I made lists, counted those cute Serta sheep, quoted Scripture, sang, tried to do long division (gave up on that), I planned menus and grocery lists...and eventually I would get mad.

I would get up and find myself doing dishes, shampooing carpet, or just reading at 2 am, . 

Sleep was ever so elusive and fleeting.  Sometimes I would be exhausted and tumble into bed, falling into an exhausted heap and drift off into nothingness.  But then awaken in a startle anywhere between 45 minutes to 2 hours later.  A good night of sleep became 5 hours.  I wasn't functioning on that amount.  Worse, I experienced the occasional day where I slept 2 hours over a 48 hour time frame.

I lost my sparkle.

My diva was drowning in stupefied stupidity.  

By the middle of October, I was dragging through the days in endless monotony.  I was fighting other battles as well.  I hurt all over, my blood glucose levels were going through the roof and I required nearly twice the insulin.  Despite the high glucose, I was starving and eating frequently...and gaining weight as well.  Every movement seemed to require superhuman effort.  I became convinced I'd contracted some wretched, horribly debilitating disease over the internet.

I came face to face with the fact that the human body not only needs sleep, it is a necessity.



I tried the Melatonin, benedryl, chamomile tea.  I tried all three together.  I tried napping and not napping.  I tried hot showers and still my pillows sat lonely.  I sent a desperate email to my doctor, who kindly faxed a sleeping aid to the pharmacy.  I followed the directions and I slept for 9 hours!

I was dancing through the hallway.  Yes!  I found an answer.  I took it the next night and still slept, but when the sun rose the next day, Rosey did not.  I got up, staggered to the family room, bouncing off corners on the way and fell onto the couch.

I sat...staring at the fish tank.  

That was all I accomplished.  

I have no memory of how I passed the day, apparently sitting for 6 hours staring at angelfish.  Mr. Rosey came home and sometime after his arrival I realized the incessant buzzing I heard was him.  He had been talking.  I turned my bleary, bloodshot eyes toward him and asked "huh?"  

"Do you have something planned for dinner," he asked me.

I replied again, "huh?"

Mr. Rosey made me see the doctor.  I left with another script in my weary hands with great hopes.  Frankly, I was skeptical but willing to try.  So I took the pill, and an hour later began to yawn.  I wasn't feeling sleepy, but gargantuan yawns threatened to overtake my face.  So I laid down.

I woke sometime in the wee hours of the morning realizing I had been asleep.  At first the days were a little challenging but for a week, night after night I was going to bed and falling asleep like normal people.  I'm pretty certain I heard angelic chores rejoicing over my sleep.

It had positive results.  I began to focus.  I began to move.  I found myself able to work on a chore and actually complete it.  I noticed my blood sugar levels were falling, and my hunger was lessening.  The aches and pains were diminishing and after 3 days of deep sleep I awoke with no pain.  I have slept nightly for 7 days.  I'm feeling better.

Yesterday, the Diva woke up.  

I threw a tantrum while trying to style my hair for an appointment.  Rosey stood up within me and demanded that I go get my hair cut.  So after my doctor appointment, I went for a hair appointment.  I was very pleased with this new hair dresser and when I left...I'm pretty sure I felt a glimmer of a sparkle.

More about Insomnia

Pink Ribbons - The Port-a-Cath Surgery

Pink Ribbons is a feature series I have started that is posted every Wed.  I am a Pink Ribbon Warrior, having gone through the chemo, surgery, radiation, the year of waiting and recently stage 2 reconstruction...which I find is really the first of many little surgeries.  I am at a place in my life where I am willing to open my journal from that time and share with you my anger, fears, challenges and pain of finding out you have cancer.  At the end of the post, you will find the links of the previous posts from the most recent first and going back.  These are not current events.  This is me sharing with you from the other side of breast cancer.

August 12, 2010

I don't know whose bright idea it was to schedule a doctor visit with the radiologist the morning after surgery. I'm okay just really sore and not wanting to move. The port is in that hollow between your collar bone and shoulder in my left side. I told the nurse it felt like a bad sprain. But before I got home I decided it felt like a bullet hole! My arm has limits in what it will do without making that muscle seize up. They gave me Vicodin for pain. I just don't like it. I don't know why it has such a high street value.  It has never helped my pain.  It does make me sleepy though.

Mr. Rosey stopped to get it at the pharmacy and she quotes him a total of $153 and he started sputtering "the copay for vicodin is $10!"

She told him, they had 12 medications for me to pick up. Apparently Doctors had been faxing in scripts for chemo care, diabetes plus pain meds. The pharmacy tech got rather snarky when he told her he was there to pick up the vicodin.  It was the drug I immediately needed.

She questioned him why we bothered having the other meds called in! ergh. He in turn got impatient and rather heatedly said...."Look lady! My wife has breast cancer and she just got home from a surgery. She NEEDS the pain med now. The others can wait until the weekend when I can get back in with the rest of the money for the other meds."

She apologized but Mr. Rosey doesn't know that he won't speak to the pharmacist anyway. He is already feeling like he's operating in crisis mode. He had a really bad morning at work. They probably don't mean to but they really guilt-ed him about leaving for my surgery.

The Port Surgery -  First I don't know why they schedule a person for afternoon surgery and keep them NPO from midnight before! I was dehydrated when they were trying to get blood. *squeezing my eyes shut in a wince* My faithful pumper wouldn't pump. So the nurse called for a phlebotomist that looked like she was still in Jr high. I didn't want to be insulting but when I saw her I knew she'd have trouble. I am a hard stick. I was dehydrated  She was 13 if a day...:) After a bit of digging and twisting she finally quit the spot. She did finally get blood from a tiny vein in the hand....soooo comfortable in the hand you know. It took 10 minutes to fill a tube it was such a tiny vein.

Then my surgeon's associate came in. Dr. Etters - (MY surgeon is away at a conference getting more education. That's always good.) Since he was out of town, his associate Dr. Laks did the surgery. They sent in Doogie Howser! --------------------------->

He was delightful but I had a hard time believing he had graduated high school much less medical school. I was reassured by his whiskers. That was my vantage point...lying on a gurney under that joke of a gown.  I could see the bottom of his chin where he had real man whiskers, not just boy fuzz.

Why do the snaps of a hospital gown NEVER work? 

Seriously how many THOUSANDS of dollars

 are they going to charge for this surgery? 

Yet I was given a gown that had one working snap

 at each shoulder. One near the elbow which did nothing

 to hold it up and the other side about half way down. 

They did provide blessed warm blankets, so regardless I was laying on my back looking at Doogie's chin.  I showed him where I didn't want the port...like under a bra strap. I had written all over my chest where my bra lines were..where the seat belt lines where. I had a hay day with markers.  Kind of like a kindergartner with the permission to write all over with markers?

He was amused by my artwork and said he would try to keep the port away from my lines. But warned the port often chose where it sat. He wound up backing it up to the line over the L girlie. But I didn't tell him I made the marks using my widest strap bra. So when I put my normal bras on....the straps sit well away from the port.

So Mr. Anesthesiologist comes in. Not so young but looked mid 30's. Still young but not "Doogie" young. He looked fresh off the farm. He was in scrubs, but his appearance screamed BUMPKIN!  I'm referring to the OZARK "look out the revenuer is acomin' backwoods bumpkin".   I'm related to a WHOLE bunch of them. 

He walked up, introduced himself.  But he asked the question that I have come to detest.

 "How are you Mrs. Rosey?" 

Now how am I supposed to answer that? No one really wants to hear the truth. Well, I'm scared and really mad. This is scary stuff and you ask me how am feeling?

I told him I was dehydrated and not a good stick on a good day so he gave me one of those "I'm the doctor" smirks. But he poked my elbow veins and missed.  Then he went to the inside of the wrist. Yowza! It kept stopping and they would call him back. He finally taped it to my arm and tied my hand and arm down to a board.  Then he took a black marker and wrote across the tapes - Do NOT disturb!


The surgery was only about 20 minutes so I didn't have to be put totally under anesthesia. They used Versed and Propofol...the Micheal Jackson drug. Seriously. I was chatting with the nurse who was scrubbing and draping me....and then I was waking up while riding down a hallway.   I didn't have any of weird anesthesia feeling. It was pop!  I'm awake and talking. "Where are we going? To recovery? Did they cancel the surgery? No...its over?"   Seriously and I laid back and said, "Dude...if this is what feeling drunk is like, I wanna go home and try it!" They cracked up! I was feeling no pain.

I was turned over to a nurse in Recovery.  I asked her how long I had to stay there cuz frankly I was ready to go. "Well you have to drink something and keep it down.  Then you have to walk without fainting." I did all those things so she helped me dress.  Then they gave me a Vicodin and an ice pack and sent me on my way.


My sisters showed up only 30 minutes before I had to leave for the surgery. They all came in wearing head scarves that they planned to leave with me. Mom kept wearing  hers. It was nice to see my mom. I think she wanted to come for this surgery because she doesn't think she will make the big one this winter. :(  She came into pre-op to sit with me.  It seemed like she wanted to stay close to me.  I hate that I'm putting her through this while she's dying of liver failure.

For some reason I had this visceral gut type response to seeing them all wearing chemo scarves or hats.  Not sure what that was about on my part.  I know they weren't making fun and they were being supportive.  So I don't know why it was such a kick in the shorts for me.

I made a mistake in judgement.  The surgery was short and I guess momma wanted to spend more time with me.  She asked if she could take me to dinner.  Mr. Rosey had to get on home to start HIS infusion.  So we all piled into her van and went to Olive Garden.  While I was sitting there... anesthesia started wearing off and the entire left side of my body started humming in pain.  I just wanted to go home and they were having a good time with dinner.  sigh.

By the time I got home, I was wiped out and just wanted to cry from the exhaustion and pain.  Mom and the sisters sat around chatting,  while the nurses made themselves scarce.  A new nurse - who looks all of 22 years old will be taking over Mr. Rosey's care.  What is going on with all these doctors and nurses looking like they should be earning their scouting badges?  I felt like I had to sit up while the new nurse was here when more than anything I just wanted to go to bed.  Oh well.  I survived it.

We learned my insurance does not cover a shower chair. Do you believe they called it a luxury item? WOW!!  I would challenge them to have chemo and/or radiation and then call the chair a luxury.

I have loved the texts from all you WOW friends. KJ gets all weepy at some of them. He's just like... most of these people have no clue whether you really have cancer. He says, "You could be scamming the whole lot of them." he he he....  That's right.  I have been setting this up for the last 10 years.

Sunday - our weekend nurse came in bringing a shower chair.  An NICE shower chair with a soap holder and a place to hang a towel.  I had asked if I gave her the cash, if she would pick me up a shower seat from her pharmacy?  Well she just walked in with this nice seat and said it was her "contribution" to my care.  How sweet is that?

Running Into Chaos Part 4 - The power of Three

Part 4

I received a newsletter from the local church of the denomination I attended as a child.  We had visited this church earlier upon our arrival in the community.  We did not like the pastor then, but according to this newsletter they had a new pastor.  It was a new pastor with a young family.

My son was now 5 years old, and I had not been taking him to church for a couple years.  Not regularly for sure.  I had dedicated him to the Lord and I had fallen down on that promise.  So I decided that Sunday night, I would go check out this new pastor.

Sunday night arrived and I left our son with his father at home while I went to scope out this new minister.  The music was good and the sermon was okay.  The minister looked promising, the experience certainly warranted another visit.

After the service, the minister greeted me and introduced me to his wife.  She was shorter than me, a little overweight like me, but her smile was bright.  I chatted with her, explained that I actually lived just a mile around the corner.  If she needed anything I gave her my address, she was new the community and I could help her get to know where she lived.  I even branched out as far as to suggest that we might get together. Her eyes lit up as she said, "We could do a Bible study together!"  "Orrrr go shopping," I quickly interjected.   I did not fool them at all.  She later told me that she and the pastor began to pray "heaven down on my head".

The job that I went to school for no longer gave me any satisfaction.  I was restless, anxious and generally miserable.  I had been a professional homemaker for 10 years and then after the gift of a child, I would begin to work OUT of the home?  What was I thinking?  About that time, we also figured out by the time we calculated the car expenses, the food, the child care expenses, the extra insurance, I was only earning a whopping  $30 a month.  My baby would stand at the front door, crying and waving as I drove away.  My heart was ripping into shreds.

I hated working my shift.  I was always tired.  I was only getting 6 hours of sleep or so.  It seemed I was continually sleeping because I had to work that night, or sleeping because I just got off work.  I was hating it.  During this time frame, I still thought of Tammy and wondered about her death.  I felt like I was falling apart.  My husband and I started talking about me quitting my job at the hospital and providing in home infant care so I could spend that summer with our son.  His last summer before starting kindergarten.  I was making preparations to leave the hospital.  I handed in my resignation.

It was in those last days, that I came home exhausted from work.  I spent most of the day awake so I could sleep that night.  We had a good afternoon and evening.  We settled in for a good night's sleep.

At some point in the night, I began to dream.  I was standing in a line in front of huge throne like chair.  I was just a few behind, when I saw Tammy standing before the throne.  A white robbed figure was flipping through a book and shook his head.  Strong arms grabbed Tammy and began to drag her away. As they dragged her away, she pointed at me screaming..."You knew.  You knew all about this but you never told me!"  I looked at her in horror and saw I was now next in line before the white robed person.  I looked from Tammy to the book and back at Tammy as her screams echoed off the walls.  I began to shake as I looked at that book.   I had the same fate coming, when I was told to come forward, as the book was flipped open.  Tears fell from my eyes because I knew I had screwed up royally.  I knew that I had scratched my own name out of that book, I was no better than Tammy.

I jerked awake.  I had tears on my face, my heart was going "abangabanga bang!"  I was shaking and sweating and sick to my stomach.  I quietly got up and went to the living room.  I would do some needlework, and try to get that dream out of my head.  After a time my eyes drooped and I climbed into bed and clung to my husband.

And it began again.  The whole thing.  The line.  The throne.  The book.  Tammy.  The screaming, the accusation and the realization that I was about to receive the same fate.  I awoke in the same condition, sweaty, crying, shaking and sick to my stomach.  I got up this time and decided to do housework.  I scrubbed the kitchen, I vacuumed the carpet.  I got a toothbrush and scrubbed the faucets.  I pulled the fridge and swept out from behind it.  The weirdness of having the same dream a second time perplexed me.  I wasn't going back to sleep until I was too tired to dream.  I thought about 5 am that I had reached the point exhaustion.  48 hours with about 2 hours of sleep is not easy to put off.  This time I stretched out on the couch, thinking perhaps a change would help.

I slept.  But suddenly breaking into the void of my sleep there I was again.  I was in the line.  There was the throne.  I saw the book, I heard Tammy screaming and saw her pointing at me crying "You knew!  You knew about this but you never told me!"  Then it was my turn and they were beckoning me to come forward.  The book opened and the pages flipped...this time I heard a voice sadly say, "Tina's name isn't in here anymore.  She scratched it out."    I saw those robbed figures coming for me and I began to scream.

My scream woke me up!  I laid on the couch, again with the abangabangabang!  The sweating, the crying, the shaking and I wanted to hurl.  Three times I had the same dream.  I knew it was not a coincidence.  I knew it was a message given directly to me.  The number Three is very important in the Bible....the Trinity, the cock that crowed three times, the Three crosses.  I had a choice and I had to make it now.  The chances and you are out.  Three means God is saying "Yo!  Pay attention, this is important!"

I slipped off the couch and onto my knees and I begged God to forgive me for my stubbornness   I still didn't trust him, but I was willing to try.  God  met me there in my living room and peace entered my heart.  I fell asleep, exhausted on the couch again.  I did not awaken up until a little person was breathing on me and building legos into my nose.

On Sunday, I took my husband and son to church and introduced them to the new pastor and his wife.  They would become our best friends there.

I do not know what would have happened to me if I had not responded to that night, what I consider a Supernatural experience of dreaming the same dream three times.  But I certainly have a sense that night was a spiritual battle of eternal magnitude.  The other choice would bring only despair and heartbreak.  God and I would struggle for years (I mean YEARS) over the inept teachings of my childhood church, my upbringing, abuse, and my fear of Him.  I chose not to address all those issues in this series.   I still stumble from time to time, and I don't really know what God has in store for me next, I can say this with confidence, 

I ran into the chaos.  God created order where there had been none. 

 I am at peace with the silence of the chaos that had been within me.

God and I still struggled...

**Estrogen Content** And Sarah Laughed

Our Bible study group has been looking at the lives of Abraham and Sarah.  They had quite some life didn't they?

Over the last few days I've been kicking around my head the concept of Sarah laughing when the Lord said, she would conceive in a year's time. 

 She laughed.

We talked about the fact that at her age, she was in menopause so the concept of conceiving...was inconceivable to her.  Among the people she knew, NO one her age had a baby.  So when the Lord said...you will have a baby, well we would yuk it up as well.

This morning, I got out of the shower and went through the routine of greasing all of this glorious woman flesh.  I must do this because MENOPAUSE has dried me out.  All the flaking and shedding... I leave dna at the scene of every location.  As I go through this routine, I grumbled about the changes that menopause caused.

In case you don't know, I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2000.  It was estrogen fed.  So after chemo, I was given injections to shut my ovaries down...because yes, Aunt Flo was tougher than chemo.  She hung in there for the whole ride.  After the mastectomies and the radiation, I was to have a complete hysterectomy.  I was allowed to wait until I had recovered physically and mentally from the treatment.  So I was given Lupron injections for 8 months before having the surgery.  I complained to the doctor about some very *ahem* intimate pain I was having.  She answered, 

"Oh, that's most likely caused by the vaginal walls thinning.  It happens after menopause."

After the pre-surgical exam, she informed me that my "walls" were extremely thin and fragile.  I had a very quick reduction in only 8 months.  I realize this is TMI, but I also know that a lot of us enter menopause not really understanding the process.  There just isn't a lot of conversation going on about what to expect in menopause.  Jokes yes, but not true conversation and information.  

Hot flashes get all the lime light, but there are other very inconvenient aspects to menopause that don't get a lot of press time.  Like sometimes you have to be careful how you sit down...because those thin vaginal walls will stretch and hurt.  The elasticity is gone.  The lubrication process is gone.  Your sexy hormones...gone.  

It's hard to want to have sex when you can't get hot and bothered anymore.  Really.  It's the saddest and most difficult part of menopause.  Seriously.  Give me back the power hot flashes if that means I get my sexual nature back. (Keep in mind that I'm also undergoing an oral chemo to further decrease estrogen production so it's a double whammy for me.)

I miss the ability to "get rowdy."

Okay now that you are all green and shuddering, lets go back to Sarah.  The Bible tells us this in Genesis 18:11 & 12

 Abraham and Sarah were old and getting on in years. Sarah had passed the age of childbearing. So she laughed to herself: “After I have become shriveled up and my lord is old, will I have delight?

Now, after my little intimate discussion with you, let's look at what Sarah said..."I have become shriveled up".  Yes my sisters.  In all my previous readings of this passage, I just pictured Sarah as a heavily wrinkled, dry skinned old woman.  But this morning, it was a light bulb shining over my head.  Oh my.  Sarah had a dry hoo ha too!  She and Abraham may have well been past the ability to "get rowdy" themselves.  I mean it's not like she can run to Walmart for a bottle of Astroglide!  What's a woman to do in the centuries BC?  Maybe check out that scroll "101 Uses for Goat Fat"?  Sarah might have hooted because it had been some years since she and ole Abe had partaken of the horizontal fellowship.  I'm hoping the Lord gave her a little hormonal assistance in accomplishing this endeavor.

Can't you just imagine Abraham?  Poor Sarah.  Talk about a man's dream excuse for horizontal fellowship..."Honey, the LORD said it, so we must."

We know that the Lord said "this time next year, you will have a son".  To have a son, you must gestate for 40 weeks, give or take 2 weeks.  So Abraham was chasing her around the tents for quite a few months before she conceived.  Abraham was 100 years old when his son was born!  

Yes Sarah, I would have laughed as well.  I would have been rolling on the floor, holding my stomach and hooting over the idea of me and my 99 year old husband just TRYING to have a baby, much less actually succeeding.  I have to cut this woman some slack, Lord.  Knowing what I now know about menopause...I'd have laughed until tears streamed down my face.


**Recent news - 96 year old man becomes father for the 22 time with his 60 year old wife.  The article is rather snarky but here's a link...http://now.msn.com/ramjeet-raghav-becomes-worlds-oldest-father-at-96

The American Cancer Society

The American Cancer Society offers a service where women can purchase hats, wigs, scarves, and mastectomy products at a much less cost that available elsewhere.   Go to www.tlcdirect.org for the entire catalog and more information.  I ordered many hats from them.  Theirs have a higher crown so the sides sit lower, helping you hide your chemo side effects.  They also carry other devices to help you feel more comfortable...halos, head bands, scalp covers...

Don't be afraid to contact your local chapter of the ACS.  They offer services,  REAL services to those going through cancer treatment.  Their fund raising is not just about paying salaries and keeping offices open.  They offer free wigs and a free styling of your wig.  The Look Good, Feel Better program, where a licensed cosmetologist teaches you how to apply makeup and create the illusion of eyelashes and eyebrows. In the LGFB program you will receive a makeup kit filled with full size products (not sample sizes).  This was particularly helpful in my group as there were several older women who had never worn more than a little lipstick.  The kit allowed them to continue improving their "cancer face" without having to purchase a dozen different products. 

They have volunteers who drive patients to appointments, and offer a gas assistance program.  I believe they also have a copay assistance program for those who qualify.  In addition, they lobby Washington concerning issues important to those battling cancer.  Of course, they fund research and education.  But most important was the support and services they made available to me.  They do not focus only on breast cancer, but extend their assistance to everyone regardless of where cancer is found.