Just can't escape it, even in paradise!

I'm back home from Catalina.

It was nice to change the outside scenery for a few days. Taking care of the practical needs of everyone while out of my usual environment helped to distract me from time to time from the "big C" refrain that is on an endless loop in my head. But it definitely pushed its way to the forefront many times. I tried to focus more on making sure everyone had a good time and did thing that they wanted to do. Isabelle had heard about glass bottom boats, so she and I did that on our last day. Olivier was pretty flexible with stuff and seemed to have a good time. Jean-Marc absolutely loved the swimming pool-he definitely is a water baby. The first time I took him in, he was giddy! It was really cute. We got many adorable pictures of him hamming it up for the camera.

But cancer was never far away from me. I don't think Eric noticed it until he downloaded some of his pictures that he had taken the first day. When he saw this one, he realized my mental state. We were on the boat on Tuesday morning, pulling away from Long Beach harbor. The picture does a good job of summing up how I am most of the time. I'm physically present, but not "present." I wish I could be fully engaged mentally in what is going on around me...especially when it is good.

Maybe I'm more sensitive to cancer related things. But I kept hearing snippets of the conversations of passers by that brought me back to it as well. For instance, walking on the pier, a man was on his cell phone and his end of the conversation that I couldn't help but hear went something like, "...they think they got all the cancer out in the surgery...." Every tourist shop I walked by I peered in looking at their collection of hats. I'd like to get a light brown/beige hat to wear once I lose my hair, but not one made of straw. Gosh, even a sand sculpture Isabelle made with her hands looked like breasts to me! Is that nuts or what?

On Wednesday afternoon while I was at the pool with the kids, Kaiser left a message on my cell phone. I called them back to find it was the "surgical outreach" department. Unfortunately, by the time I got the message, they were closed. I called at 9 a.m. on Thursday and left my own message. When they called back, it was just a medical history pre-op interview. Sigh. My medical history up until now is pretty boring. No other medical conditions. No disease. No medical devices. No medication. The only interesting part of the conversation was when she asked if there had been any changes in my weight over the last 6 months. Bingo! I told her I had lost 50 pounds. She asked me if I was going to write a book about how I did it. I told her that Jillian Michaels already had. After I hung up with her, I called the surgical scheduling department to see if my surgery date could be moved up. The answer was NO. That bummed me out for a couple of hours. I felt better after lunch, but my mood seemed to latch onto Eric, who was out of sorts for the rest of the day. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it was realizing how much 2 1/2 days restaurant meals was costing.

I went out for a run early on our last day. The hotel had a "gym," which was a small room with some old equipment. Why run on a broken down treadmill when I could run around the island? I ran up to the Wrigley Memorial, which is on a slight incline. I ran back down. I ran through the small town of Avalon, past the boat terminal on Pebbly Beach road as far as they would allow pedestrians. It took about an hour. It felt great, but my old shoes need replacing, so my knee started hurting. The run was nice, but pointed out this disconnect I have--here I am, able to RUN for an hour. To the people I run by, I don't look sick. But here I am, with cancer cells dividing inside me, trying to kill me. I'm glad I went for my run. I want to feed that "strong" side of me for as long as I can.

I hope I don't sound too morbid or self-pitying. I really did have a good time and I'm glad we went. As my last post showed, God is ministering to me to help me get through this. The trip gave the Eric and the kids a sense of having had a vacation, and I'm 3 days closer to surgery.

My prayer requests:

• I continue to have trouble with sleep. I get to sleep okay, but if I am roused in the night for whatever reason, I have had trouble going back to sleep.
• That this cancer does not get any bigger. My cancer is estrogen driven. This week has been a pre-menstrual week for me. I've been paranoid that my cycle is making these tumors grow like in time-lapse photography. I won't know what "stage" or how big it is until after surgery. Not knowing this is kind of eating at me as well. I really don't want to be at stage 3, but I'm afraid that I may very well be.
• I know the surgery date is in God's hands, like everything else. But each day of waiting is torture. I pray for an earlier date-every day makes a difference. Waiting for certain pain is hard. I'd rather just jump into it and get it over with.

Come, all who are burdened...

I'm in Catalina right now. Eric decided to bring his laptop, so I'm taking advantage of it to record some thoughs I had in the middle of the night last night

I woke up at 1 a.m. and couldn't get back to sleep. Par for the course, except that usually happens around 4 a.m. I didn't want to be up for the day after only 3 hours of sleep. I tossed and turned for about 30 minutes and then decided to get my iPhone and listen to some of the relaxation podcasts I had downloaded. They are supposedly for coping with breast cancer.

There was one called "The Gift." In it, she directs you to think of a place where you feel safe. I tried to visualize what it looks like when I feel like I am in God's arms. I think of it as being "in the shelter of the shadow of His wings." There are numerous references to this place in Scripture. God is also my strong tower, a shelter in the storm. But what would that practially look like? I didn't have a chance to think about it too much because the podcast went on. She directs you to imagine a person that you respect and admire. Instantly, Jesus popped into my mind. This person comes towards you and gives you a hug. Okay, that one is easy for me to imagine. After awhile, this person gives you a gift. It is something that you need to get through your difficult situation.

What gift would Jesus give me to help me cope with what I'm going through? In the short term, I need rest. But as I thought about it, the obvious answer came. The gift He has given me is eternal life--the power over death. By His death on the cross on my behalf, I am brought into fellowship spiritually with God. That started the second I put my faith in Him and will last forever. The body that I am in now will die. Whether it is from cancer or being hit by a bus in a week. But that abudant relationship that I have with God and other believers will never die. Cancer cannot win. Jesus fought the battle for my soul. It is finished.

After the podcast, I continued to ponder these things. A verse came to mind: "Come, all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28) I repeated that over and over in my mind. Every time I thought about how I was unable to sleep, I would repeat that verse in my mind. Over and over. I eventually drifted off to sleep. I realize now that Jesus gave me the short term gift I needed in the middle of the night. Thank you Jesus!

One more thought...

I slept well last night. But woke up again at 4:40 a.m. On the bright side, for a split second, the first thought that popped into my mind was "Catalina" and not "Cancer."

I laid in bed for about an hour before getting up, trying to pray. It's hard for me to pray in my head. My mind wanders. Its much more effective for me to articulate the words with my mouth. I'm so thankful that the Holy Spirit is there to articulate what I cannot. As I lay there pondering things, I thought about my freak out time yesterday morning. I realized it for what it was: a panic attack. My heart rate was up, my breathing rapid and more shallow. I felt trapped by the cancer.

I guess it helps to be able to recognize it for what it was. It helped last night as I drifted off to sleep to imagine the tumor getting smaller. Someone suggested the idea of tiny pick-axes chipping away at it. I like that!

"Praise the Lord, O my soul, all m inmost being, praise His holy name.

Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits-

Who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases.

Who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion,

who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's."

Psalm 103:1-5

Taking off for a few days

I've spent a good part of the day today getting ready for our little mini-trip to Catalina. We are leaving at 7:30 a.m. tomorrow morning and will get back on Thursday night.

I didn't want to leave the blog for a few days with the post from this morning. I have my ups and downs. This morning was a down. I realized mid-morning that this is a "PMS" week for me. Perhaps that has made me more emotionally sensitive. Knowing that this cancer is estrogen driven, I also wonder if the hormonal surge related to my monthly cycle might make the tumor grow? I'm probably psyching myself out.

I appreciate the comments and suggestions I've gotten since my last post this morning. I hadn't thought of visualization. I will definitely start doing that. I did a lot of that preparing for homebirths and I know how valuable it can be. I realized that I was doing visualization but in a negative way. (Thinking I could feel the tumor growing). So I will try doing it in the reverse-imagining it shrinking instead. I searched iTunes and found some calming meditative podcasts for coping with breast cancer. I downloaded them and am going to also try to carve out some time to do them as well. I need to calm down and be able to relax. Losing a little bit of sleep each night is starting to catch up on me. (I was awake at 4:40 a.m. this morning)

I won't be posting for a few days, but I will be in touch. My iPhone will never be far away, especially since I'd like to get a call from Kaiser telling me they can move my surgery up.

For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." Romans 8:15

Sometimes its helpful to put scripture in the first person. So I'll make this one say: "For I did not receive a spirit that makes me a slave again to fear, but I received the Spirit of sonship. And by him I cry, "Abba, Father!" Boy, do I need Him now.

Your continued prayers are appreciated.