May Day

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Y’all I have been on the struggle bus for about the last month and a half.   Where to begin?  So… I have been worrying, analyzing, debating, and overanalyzing my reconstruction options for several months. I’ve gone back and forth, no reconstruction at all, DIEP flap with implants, DIEP flap without implants, or BRAVA method.


Then my sweet dog Zhoe passed right before Easter.  Insert a moment of silence here for my fur baby.  I didn’t handle that as nobly as I’d like to think I would have.  There was snot and wailing, if I would have had access to ashes, I would have poured them on my head and torn my clothes and lamented in the streets.


Meanwhile, I’ve been dealing with resigning from my job.  It had turned into a situation that just didn’t make sense economically, and I felt like there was a spiritual nudge to let it go. Of course, I drug my feet, because quitting one’s job without a backup is nonsense.  I could not deny however, the many indicators that kept popping up confirming it was time to move on.

Leaving work

Fatigue, I have been battling with this for a while.  I come home from work, with barely enough energy to stand to make dinner for the family.  The tiredness has been the most daunting.  There is so much I want to do, but sometimes physically, it’s just not doable.  Then when my stubbornness kicks in and I push through (like power washing my parents pool deck out of vain refusal to admit I was dying) I pay for it big time.

So, we’ve got the death of my dog, complicated grown up type life decisions needing to be made, medical bills, a very busy time of year in general, my oncologist is moving away, trying to figure out my life, nutritional changes to help fend off the fatigue, oh and my basic maternal and spousal duties.


Frankly, I’m not excelling at anything right now, life is not like college, where C’s get degrees.  The HOA notices have rolled in because our poor yard looks like it’s from an abandoned district in the Hunger Games.  I tried the whole, “your kids won’t remember the cleanliness of your house but the memories” approach and I literally have lost Micah in her room, haven’t seen the surface of my dining room table in weeks, and Owen has worn a matched pair of socks a whopping three times this year.  All the while I keep hearing, “be still”.

Still is not my thing, there’s always something to be done, time should be used wisely, why put off tomorrow what can be done today etc.  Be still? Have you seen this living room?  If there was a market for weeds, I could harvest our front yard and be set for life.   Somewhere back in the chaos, I chose a reconstruction route, and I am reminded by the doctor’s office, “remember there will be a few weeks of down time, use this time to rest (and because they have me figured out) you know, like be still while you’re healing”.



I will be working on listening while I am confined to my bed over the next couple of weeks, and looking forward to realizing the plans for my family and me.  Surgery is May 11th and prayers for an easy successful surgery and recovery are always appreciated.


Booby Trap

On June 20, 2016, I got a phone call from my Doctor, I know that she and I had a conversation, but what I most remember are the words “Invasive Ductal Carcinoma” .  I had a little knot the size of a tic-tac just underneath my armpit checked out via mammogram and biopsy the week prior.   I was cool and collected for the first 5 minutes or so after receiving the diagnosis, but after repeating it to my hubby and my mom, my overactive imagination started to get the best of me. (If I was cremated and they held a memorial service I hope my family doesn’t have a big 14 x 16 picture of me on an easel.)

On the outside I kept it together, on the inside I was…


I mean, “invasive” when have invasions ever been not a big deal?  All rational thinking was abandoned.  I worried about what stage of cancer I had, how much was our insurance going to cover.  Then I’d admonish myself for worrying because I believe in a God who is bigger. But a few minutes later something else would creep in.  My thoughts were everywhere from worrying about not having enough strength and energy for my kids if I was doing chemo, and  vain thoughts about the horror of having my little peanut head exposed for the world to see.  At that time I would have loved to have someone with my similar story to walk me through, tell me I wasn’t being ridiculous, and tell me how they got through it.

So,  the next morning, I simply told myself to have several seats and I busted out my Bible, well technically my tablet, and started reading, reading, reading.  What I didn’t read was anything on the internet about my diagnosis, the last thing I needed was too much information.  I came across a verse in Deuteronomy that just spoke to me,

” He made Khim ride on the heights of the land
    and fed Khim with the fruit of the fields.
He nourished Khim with honey from the rock,
    and with oil from the flinty crag,” Deuteronomy 32:13  

And yes, I insert my name in verses so I recognize that God’s word is for me.  This verse is just a reminder that God has been handling difficult situations for a very long time, if He can extract honey from a rock and oil from flint, I think  it is safe to say He can see me through this diagnosis.  Ladies and Gentlemen, at that moment the idea for Flint & Honey was born.

About a week later, I found out that my cancer will not require chemotherapy and most likely only a lumpectomy and hormone therapy. I’ll expand more on that in the next blog.

My hope for this blog is to keep everyone abreast (see what I did there?)  of the situation,   implement healthy lifestyle changes with y’all as my accountability partners, and share my story, so the next 35 year old that gets a surprise diagnosis maybe doesn’t feel alone.