The Breast Case Scenario

Good evening, friends.  Thank you so much for your continued prayers and support following my recent surgery on July 6th.  And by support, I mean texts with the following pics saying ‘I’m thinking of you’:

I’ll never be able to walk through the candy aisle at Walgreens again without being reminded of this glorious season of my life.

The surgery itself was a huge success in that it was fast,  I was in zero pain afterwards, and had no negative side effects from the anesthesia.  PRAISE GOD!!  The only benefit of multiple surgeries is that due to trial and error, we were finally able to successfully customize my anesthesia cocktail.  Think NikeID but with Propofol.  That, plus the Fast Pass actually worked!  I didn’t even sit down in the waiting room because they took me back to my room immediately upon check in.  One might say it was SO fast that I almost got ‘niplash’.  I feel like as far as hospital visits go, this one will end up in the W column.  My family, along with Kim and Amy, were able to come support me, for which I am so grateful.

The past few days have been a little crazy.  I’ve been accompanying my friend Stephanie to her doctor’s appointments, and at last count we were up to 6 appointments in 3 business days.  Efficiency is our strong suit.  To those not in the cancer world, I realize that sounds like overkill.  But when you are choosing a physician to remove cancer from your body (surgical oncologist), as well as choosing a physician to reconstruct your body (plastic surgeon), doing your homework is of utmost importance.  With each appointment, we learned something new and valuable.  I’m pretty sure at this point I know just enough to diagnose someone, but not enough to qualify as a bonafide oncologist.  At one of Stephanie’s appointments with my surgical oncologist, the nurses even asked if I wanted to go ahead and be seen for a follow up since I was already there.  Well, yes I do thank you very much.  Are you gathering about now how incredibly bizarre this whole thing is?  Steph and I are big fans of the Buy One, Get One Free concept, but not necessarily in this scenario.  Later, Stephanie even joked that when we she visited my plastic surgeon’s office, she would just tell him to forget his whole spiel and she would simply say, ‘I’ll have what she’s having.’

I love my friends.

(I did want to note that Stephanie and I have been spending so much time together that literally we are starting to dress alike.  #offtheshouldernavyandwhitechecksforthewin)

Tomorrow, Trevor, my dad and I are heading to MD Anderson in Houston for a second opinion.  My friend, Molly Watson, will pick us up at the airport and act as our tour guide for the day.  Molly, bless her heart, has a reputation for being fashionably late.  Everywhere.We.Go.  When I told my ever so punctual husband that Molly was responsible for getting us to my 8:30am appointment, my middle son Hunter (who overheard us) said, ‘Is she going to be on Watson time?’.  She’s so fashionably late that we’ve even coined that term just for her.  I’ve stressed to Molly that we don’t have to be fashionable tomorrow and that on time is actually late, so I feel confident she will pull through and we won’t be a minute over 8:31!!  Love you, Mol, and cannot WAIT to see you!

My prayer for tomorrow’s appointment is that other expert eyes will review my entire case history and concur with Dr. O’Shaughnessy regarding the upcoming 4 rounds of chemotherapy.  Dr. O was a fan of me getting a second opinion and I love her even more for that.  I’m hopeful that the MD Anderson physicians won’t recommend more comprehensive treatment, but am open to hearing what they have to say nonetheless.  Thank you for praying along with me for the wisdom and discernment of these physicians.

As for cold caps, you guys are a wealth of knowledge.  Thank you so much.  You’ve shared so many success stories, and I am optimistic that it might actually work to some degree.  And while I’m amazed by this process, I’m still completely overwhelmed by all it entails.  Having a frozen apparatus on my head for 7-8 hours might be the second item I’d put on my ‘Things I Never Want To Do’ list.  And if the first wasn’t ‘Go Bald’, I might punt the whole idea.  But I’m going to give it a try and hope for good results.  Even though Jen and a host full of my friends (Kay, Lezley, Sterling, Sheila, Laura, etc.) have pulled off the bald look beautifully, I’m not sure I share their astounding courage and bravery.  Either way, I know I’ll be fine.  But I’m willing to freeze my follicles and see what happens!  (A huge thanks to Natalie for walking me through this process!!)

Lastly, per my request, Dr. O is willing to let me start chemo after I get home from our family vacation.  I’m so thankful for so many reasons.  Since my diagnosis, I have felt tethered to my house.  With so many appointments, tests, surgeries & scans, my schedule has not been my own.  And that constitutes a claustrophobic feeling.  I have missed so many of my son’s baseball games this season, which makes me sad.  I love watching my kids’ games and since I have all boys, that’s how I spend most of my free time.  Thankfully, I have been able to see his last two games and am cheering on the Dallas Tigers during the World Series this week (especially #8)!

After baseball season concludes, our family will be heading out of town for a much needed vacation.  Something tells me I won’t be taking this one for granted.

My chemo start date will be August 1st and I will have it every 3 weeks until October 3rd (which, in keeping with my special occasion theme, will be 2 days after my middle son turns 15 and one day after my oldest son turns 16 #happybirthday #irishtwins).  You can’t make this stuff up.

The Lord continues to provide peace, encouragement and guidance throughout this process.  He gives me just enough distraction to not dwell on little aches and pains along the way.  And He shows me love through YOU.  Each and every day.  Thank you for caring for me and my family.  We feel so humbled and blessed.

Until next time…much love to you all & make every day count,

Jamie

PS: “In every thing give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.” I Thessalonians 5:18

Well, I finally got the news I’ve been waiting for today (from my Oncotype test) and it wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear.  In one of my last posts, I asked you all to pray for a score lower than 20 so that I wouldn’t have to do chemotherapy.  And you were so sweet to leave tons of comments like ‘Praying for under 20!’ and ‘Lord please let the score be less than 20!’.  As Dr. O’ Shaughnessy (oncologist) explained to me at my last visit, a score of 18 and below would mean no chemo.  And a score of 20 and above would indicate chemo.  I’ve always been slightly complicated, so I wasn’t too surprised when my score came back as this…

In hindsight, I should have been a little more specific on my prayer request.

NINETEEN.  Seriously?!  I believe that puts me in the GREYest of GREY areas.  However, with cancer, grey may as well be black.  Because who’s going to gamble with 1 point?  NOT ME.

I will meet with Dr. O’ Shaughnessy tomorrow morning to go over the details, but her nurse told me that due to my young age, Dr. O was going to recommend chemo.  I’m not gonna lie, the news hit me really hard.  Like cry for hours hard.  I mentioned this earlier, but cancer has a funny way of humbling you at every turn.  Just when you think you’re gaining momentum, you get knocked down again.  It’s maddening.

The good news is the Lord TRULY (and I mean in every sense of the word) has gone before me (Deuteronomy 31:8) and paved the way so beautifully with so many details even in times like this.  For instance, my best friend from Boston, Kim, had already planned on being in town this week and was with me ALL day to process.  Normally we spend an hour or two on the phone each morning analyzing life, but having the GIFT of processing together face to face was priceless.  Never mind that we took our SEVEN, yes SEVEN, boys to Jump Street during all of this, and that our processing took place at a picnic table in the party room.

Cause I can think of no better place than the party room at a trampoline park to cry it out about chemo.

Another way the Lord went before me was that I had the opportunity, through FRAMILY (friends who are like family), to connect with MD Anderson a few weeks ago and make an appointment for a second opinion.  It seemed like overkill at the time because my situation felt pretty simple in cancer terms.  But I was so grateful for the connection and felt the Lord prompting my heart to continue down that path.  A few days prior to making the appointment, I had a conversation with my friend, Kay, who is battling lymphoma like a BOSS.  She asked me if I was going to get a second opinion and I was a little speechless.  I told her that I ALWAYS recommend a second opinion to anyone with cancer, but oddly hadn’t even considered it for myself.  Thus, the reason for my follow through and for my upcoming summer vacation in Houston.  The Holy Spirit is good like that.

My thought in securing an appointment with MDA early on was that if my Oncotype score was low and chemo was not recommended, I would love to hear that twice.  But if the score was high and chemo was recommended, I wanted someone else to lay eyes on my case and concur.  I’m a bit paranoid because the list of those close to me who have been diagnosed with cancer is growing rapidly (more on that later).  All that said, I am beyond grateful that my appointment with MDA is scheduled for July 12th, which is only 2 weeks away.  They even called me today to let me know that all of my scans, labs, etc. had already arrived and my case file was 146 pages long.  I don’t know whether to be nervous or happy about that.  But I do know I’m thrilled that I’m not scrambling now to make that appointment, and feel confident that the Lord set all of that in motion before I even knew I needed it.

Emotionally, chemo is a tough pill to swallow.  I told my friend Alyson that because Jen didn’t have a double mastectomy, there haven’t been too many memories of her journey associated with my recent surgery and recovery.  But undergoing chemo will most assuredly usher in so many of those as I’ve sat in that treatment room with her at Baylor 1000 times.  But I keep reminding myself that the same God who orchestrated friends in town and MD Anderson appointments is the same God who will walk every step of the way with me down this unknown path.

In other news, I went in for my second inflation on Monday, the 26th, and it was so much better than the first.  Dr. Potter’s (plastic surgeon) office provides these beautiful thick waffle robes for their patients, so I just closed my eyes this time and pretended I was lying on a massage table by the beach instead of being blown up like a balloon for a five year old’s birthday party.  This is when I’m so thankful for such a vivid imagination.   The only negative from the appointment was that every where I looked that day I saw things like this:

And this:

Not kidding.

This is about the time in my post when I feel compelled to apologize to all of the sweet men who are following my journey.  I am so sorry, but I’ve always been a bit unfiltered.

With all of the humor I have about such a dreaded disease, however, there are times when my heart is literally broken.  And one such time happened almost 2 weeks ago on June 16th.  It was my dear friend, Stephanie’s, birthday.  Remember the beautiful birthday party I had the day before my mastectomy when my friends prayed for me?  Stephanie hosted that party.  She’s the beauty on the front row in BLUE right beside me:

(Catherine, Stephanie, Courtney, me & Casey; AKA “Five Blondes that Walked into a Plastic Surgeon’s Office”)

Stephanie is one of the first friends I met when I moved to Dallas in 2010, and I’ll never forget something she said after we got to know one another a few weeks later.  She and I were standing on the Hyer playground and she said, ‘I think you are my speed’ (referring to how we raise our kids and live our lives).  And if I didn’t say it out loud, I was thinking ‘well, if you are a sloth then I think we are good.’  And we have been slothing together ever since.

Stephanie found out on her birthday (while Casey and I just happened to be at her house with her) that she has breast cancer.  I’m sorry, but WHAT DID YOU SAY?!  How is it even possible that I have another close friend inducted into this club?  Thank the Lord Stephanie’s prognosis is good, but I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that the memories of caring for a friend with cancer are all too vivid and painful.  Her diagnosis brought back a FLOOD of emotions, and I’m still perplexed that we are here.

I love my friend with all of my heart and am struggling to make sense of this.  But thankfully, we’ve already been able to laugh through tears and recognize the sweetness of traveling this road together.  Even if it is at a sloth’s pace.

I would appreciate your prayers for my appointment tomorrow, as well as my upcoming surgery on July 6th (removal of the nips – sorry again, men).  I will update tomorrow if I learn anything new about chemo, but for now I just ask (BEG) you to continue encouraging me with your sweet cards, calls, prayers, texts and visits.  They literally FEED MY SOUL.

Until next time…much love to you all & make every day count,

Jamie

PS: I was on a walk with my dog this morning and was confronted by a lady for not having Dodger on a leash.  Admittedly, I should have.  But I blurted out before thinking, ‘I’m sorry but I just had a double mastectomy due to breast cancer, and I cannot have my 55 pound Labradoodle pulling on me right now.’  She literally took 3 steps back and said, ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’  I assured her it was okay and that yes I should have my dog on a leash, but that I needed a little extra grace today.  To which she said, ‘of course.’  So to you, nice lady just trying to follow the rules, I sincerely apologize and I hope I didn’t send you into what Jen used to call a SHAME SPIRAL.

“The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”  Deuteronomy 31:8

Today was a banner day.  I have finally turned the corner and am feeling somewhat like a human being.  And it feels AMAZING.  I had a much harder time dealing with the side effects of surgery (I’ll spare you the details) than I had anticipated, so today was a huge gift.  Thank you so much for all of your prayers, as I truly do feel them.

In the last 17 days, I can count on ONE HAND the times I’ve gotten out of my pajamas (and maybe even my bed).  And before you make the mistake of thinking that sounds like a VACATION, let me assure you it was anything but.  Yes, my epic slumber party might have been filled with multiple viewings of ‘The Proposal’ and ‘Friends’ reruns, however it was also filled with extreme pain, nausea, vomiting, constipation, sleeping ONLY on my back, headaches, burning chest, sleeplessness, achy muscles, etc.

And all of that is something even Ryan Reynolds can’t fix.

On second thought…

But today. TODAY.  I got up, took a bath, got dressed and even put on mascara.  I didn’t even recognize myself.  This is what my kids and dog did when I walked in the kitchen.

Then Trevor called and asked if I wanted to have lunch before my first appointment with the oncologist, Dr. O’ Shaughnessy, today at 3:30pm. (You might remember I’ve already seen the surgical oncologist, Dr. Grant, and the plastic surgeon, Dr. Potter prior to this, but this my first visit with the oncologist. Confused yet?  Me too.)  I surprised myself and everyone else when I said YES to lunch.

Trevor and I took our youngest son, Hayes, to eat and I couldn’t believe how great it felt to be out among real people.  When you’ve been participating in a perpetual slumber party for the past few weeks, it feels so foreign to be in the land of the living.  I didn’t even miss Rachel, Phoebe or Monica.

After lunch, we came home and met my sisters, Jennifer and Ashley, and my mom to go to my appointment.  Unfortunately, my dad is still sick with a horrible cough, so he didn’t join us.  We left for Baylor and arrived a WEE BIT EARLY for my appointment.  I can’t help that I married a man that gets us to the airport 4 hours before take off…just in case.  I started feeling a little shaky (emotionally) when we got out of the car and headed to the 4th floor of the very familiar Sammons building.  I cannot count the times over the past few years that I’ve pulled into that circle drive with Jen. (But I can promise you it’s more than the times I’ve washed my hair lately.)  Seriously, though, there was an odd comfort in knowing my way around, but also a real sadness in arriving without my friend to the same place that treated her so well for so long.

We got off the elevator on the 4th floor and I was completely overwhelmed with emotion.  Like RIGHT THERE in that space where all of the elevators meet.  It took my breath away to look at the double glass doors ahead knowing it was actually me that was about to check in as the patient.  Trevor reached out and held me for a minute until I regained composure.  Then I walked in to the waiting room and saw the most beautiful familiar face of Michelle, the woman who is a constant behind the desk.  She looked puzzled to see me, so I explained why I was there in a very unsteady voice.  She kept reassuring me that, ‘honey, we are going to do this and it’s going to be okay’.  She then got up from behind the desk and walked all the way around for a huge bear hug.  Well, how can a girl stay dry after that?!  She whispered in my ear that ‘God is good and He is strong.  He’s got this.’.  And in that moment, I began to understand why the Lord had led me back to Baylor.  As my friend Angela pointed out, Jennifer had forged so many relationships there and I was now the benefactor of her relational investment.  How Great Thou Art.  Seriously.

I filled out a mountain of paperwork as my family and I dreamed up ways to streamline that dreadful process.  If only Mr. Wonderful, Robert Herjavec, Barbara Corcoran, Daymond John, Lori Greiner and Mark Cuban would have been there.  Finally I was called back for my appointment.  Trevor and I weren’t 5 steps in before I spotted Jennifer’s former nurse, Christina.  She came over and we just gave each other that look.  The one that says ‘I’m so happy to see you but I cannot even believe we are here’.  We hugged and caught up while my poor nurse was trying to ask me all kinds of questions and take my blood pressure.  Our timing was way off but we couldn’t help ourselves.  Christina even came into the exam room while the nurse was doing her intake.  And if that wasn’t enough, another sweet nurse, Elena, came in the room and said hello as well.  It was like a little party and I had not even changed into my gown yet.  While we were mid sentence, there was a knock at the door.  And then entered Dr. O’ Shaughnessy.  She was so cute about asking if she was missing something as everyone was so jovial and familiar.  Christina explained the connection with Jen and Dr. Osborne (Jen’s oncologist), and I will never forget the way Dr. O’ Shaughnessy looked at me after that.  She had such sincere compassion in her eyes.  (She was familiar with Jen’s case as they all work together in the same practice and share case studies with one another.)  I knew right then that God had answered ALL of our prayers for me to find just the right team of doctors for my journey.

After a quick physical examination, my family came in and we all got to hear the wonderful news.  Dr. O (which is what I’ll call her for now although it’s weird because we also called Jen’s doctor, Dr. Osborne, ‘Dr. O’;  that, and the fact that I feel very insecure every single time I type ‘Shaughnessy’ for fear of misspelling it) sat beside me and went through my full pathology report after surgery.  She said over and over again how ‘favorable’ my report was and that she feels like it’s the best of the worst.  Can I get an AMEN?!  Then Elena (who is now MY nurse!) came in and reiterated the same great news.  PRAISE THE LORD.  The next step is to send off tissue samples to a lab in California for something called an Oncotype.  An Oncotype is a proliferation score that tells us how quickly the cells are multiplying. If this score comes back at an 18 or under, I will simply start an estrogen blocker medication, Tamoxifen, and take that for up to 5 years.  If the score is higher than 20, I will do chemo but only for 4 times (she called it chemo ‘light’ relative to all the other chemos).  Then I will be done barring any recurrence.  DONE.  Cheers to that!

Trevor may or may not have teared up after hearing the fantastic news.  Why?  Because cancer is all around us.  And receiving even one smidgen of positive news can bring you to tears.  One of my very best childhood friends, Susan, just recently found out her husband Patrick has stage 4 glioblastoma (brain cancer).  And one of Trevor’s childhood best friends, Brandon, found out his wife Kay has stage 4 non hodgkins lymphoma. Another precious family I grew up with at church is coming up on the first anniversary of their daughter, Laura’s, death from breast cancer this Sunday.  And of course, there’s Jen.

I realize Trevor and I aren’t unique in being touched by this horrible disease.  I’m sure you all have stories that have broken your heart as well.   But there is a beauty in sharing stories.  A strength in numbers if you will.  And to receive good news seems much much sweeter in light of all that surrounds us.  Your arms feel as if they are literally wrapping around and squeezing the word gratitude.  Yet simultaneously there is a deep tenderness for those who may not have good news, or may not have the ending they desired.  It’s the epitome of experiencing the emotional gamut.  That’s why Trevor teared up.  He gets it, and so do I.

God is the reason for our joy and the comforter of our pain.  He walks every step of the road with us and never ever leaves us.  If there is one message I could convey throughout this journey, I pray it is that.  I heard a quote one time that I have to rehearse in my head about 3 times before I ever recite it.  But it is worth it.  “Don’t wait until God is all you have to realize he is all you need.”  Truer words were never spoken.  Enjoy your good health if you are blessed with it.  Love your people well every single day.  And never take for granted your ability to run even the simplest of errands without asking for help (did I mention I cannot drive yet?!).  It is truly a privilege and a gift.

I love you all and appreciate you following along with me.  Oh, and I assure you the next time I have a slumber party devoid of headaches and nausea (but full of Ryan Reynolds), you are all invited.

Until next time…much love to you all & make every day count!

Jamie

PS: Trevor took a picture of my sisters, mom and I in the exam room that I planned on including in this post.  But on the way home, Ashley looked at it and said, ‘Gosh we are really wrinkly.’  To which I replied, ‘I know, that lighting was HARSH.’  And she said, ‘I meant our clothes.’  So next time we will try to iron our faces shirts so I can show off my support team.

So so excited!!  My two remaining drains were removed today, and I feel a lot more like a human and a lot less like an octopus.  It’s fabulous.  Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to endure the pain and get rid of those crazy things.  And thank you, friends, for praying for me this week when I was in so much pain.  Your prayers are honestly the only thing getting me through each day.

With drains, you basically need something with pockets that holds them close to your body so they don’t pull (so fun, right?).  My friend, Aly, (whom I’ve deemed my cancer angel) gave me a tool belt apron, albeit a lot more stylish, when this journey began.

I didn’t understand the significance at first, but after wearing it EVERY DAY for 10 days, it eventually sunk in.  And because I’m infamous for not cooking,  Trevor made the comment that this was the first time in 19 years of marriage he’s ever seen me in an apron.  I hope he took a picture because that’s also the last time he will ever see me in an apron.  #hopehedoesn’tstarve

And as if getting the drains removed wasn’t good enough, I also got my pathology report back this week and it was great news.  Praise the Lord!!!! There were no cancerous cells on my right side (the unaffected side) and only microscopic cells on my left side towards the top (or to be more frank, the “nip”).

If that made you nervous, I’d advise you to stop reading now.  With all of my doctor’s visits, I’ve become unashamedly comfortable discussing private parts with strangers.  

Awhile back, I talked about how overwhelmed I was on my first visit to the plastic surgeon’s office with all of the reconstruction options available.  Most of those options had to do with whether or not you removed the nip (while I have no shame, I simply cannot bring myself to type the entire word) during the mastectomy.  Ideally, you would keep everything you could, but only if it did not jeopardize your health.  Dr. Grant was willing to try and spare the nip during my mastectomy, but once the path report came back and indicated cancerous cells were still present, he said we need to go ahead and get everything out.  I wholeheartedly concur.

While I’m a little sad, the great news is that plastic surgeons can do amazing things these days to recreate what God gave us in the first place.  It’s truly mind blowing.  They can actually tattoo 3D nips which look pretty real.  Ashley, my mom and I laughed today because Dr. Potter’s nurse told us of a genius tattoo artist named ‘Vinny’ that travels around the country doing this.  Apparently his mother had breast cancer and he became passionate about turning something bad into something beautiful.  Who doesn’t love that?  Vinny frequently comes to Dallas, so I could make an appointment with him if I choose.  And as sweet as that backstory is, I’m not gonna lie that this is what came to mind when I heard about Vinny…

I sure hope I’m wrong.  I really don’t want to end up with a fire breathing dragon or a pegasus across my chest.

I inquired to the nurse about whether or not I should remove the opposite nip (since it wasn’t medically warranted) and she said the funniest thing:  “If you do just one side, we can make them look like sisters.  If you do both sides, we can make them look like twins.”  Twins it is.

So…I will be having another surgery in the next week or so to remove the rest of the cancerous cells and then I can boldly say I’m cancer free!

There are three things in life I thought I’d never have – implants, tattoos and twins.  I guess God has a clever way of surprising us, because if all goes according to planned, I’ll have all three before Christmas.

Until next time…much love to you all & make every day count,

Jamie

“Praise him for his acts of power; praise him for his surpassing greatness.  Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.”  Psalm 150:2,6

Hi friends.  Thank you for your continued prayers and thoughtfulness.  It means so very much.  I debated on whether or not to post today because, honestly, this has been a rough day.  But I truly want to chronicle the highs and lows for anyone going through this after me.  And believe me, there are some lows.

It’s been a full week since my surgery and each day brings about new challenges.   I spoke too soon in my last post about not having nausea after surgery.  Almost immediately after I hit ‘send’ on the last post, I began getting sick.  And that lasted for two days.  I couldn’t even hold a few bites of a bagel down.   I decided to stop taking the heavy drugs as I think that was a contributing factor.  And soon after that, the nausea subsided.

After jumping that hurdle, one of my drains (yucky tubes attached to get rid of excess fluid) became so painful that it brought me to my knees.   Literally I looked like Jennifer Grey in ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’ every time Trevor came near me to empty to my drains (which is approximately 3x a day).

I thought I was going to have to go to the ER it was so bad.  Thankfully, Trevor helped me get the pain under control in about 30 minutes (I’ve never been so grateful to be married to a pain management doctor).  Apparently the drain was sitting on a nerve which caused severe irritation.  And that is putting it mildly.   I’d have 10 more kids without an epidural before I’d sign up for that again.  That pain continued each time I moved in just the wrong direction or shifted in my bed.  It was simply excruciating.

Enter the miracle of the muscle relaxer.  After taking one of those, it took me approximately 5 minutes to feel exactly like the bride in the 80’s hit, ‘Sixteen Candles’.

Suddenly, all was right in my world.

I went to my first follow up appointment with Dr. Potter (plastic surgeon) today and got two of my 4 drains removed.  I was so happy to see them go.  I’ll spare you the details, but it’s just not natural to have tubes coming out of your body.  Dr. Potter thought I could have the other two removed by the end of the week, which is a huge prayer request!!

Trevor returned to work today after taking last week off, so Ashley came with me to my appointment.  She was a huge source of support.  If you’ve ever seen ‘Steel Magnolias’, remember the scene when Truvy (Dolly Parton) spins Shelby (Julia Roberts) around in the salon chair with her new short haircut and says, ‘ta da’ and Shelby has this expression?

Well, that was me when they took the bandages off of my chest in the office.  Thankfully, Ash (in her best Sally Field voice) was right there telling me everything looked great and it was all going to be okay.  I teared up but was able to regain composure quickly.  Sometimes you just need words of reassurance after you get startled by your own body.

Couple all of the above with summer starting and me totally not being able to parent from my bed, and I’m afraid my children will resemble these kids by August.

All kidding aside, this was a really hard day for me.  I hit a wall.  Trevor went back to work, Kim flew back to Boston, my parents both have a nasty cold and can’t spend a lot of time around me for fear of infection, I’m in pain, etc.  And lastly, I miss Jen.  Every step of this journey reminds me of my dear friend.  The hospitals, the doctors, the terminology, the stress, the pain, etc.  I cried a lot and I held several pity parties today.  But God continues to send encouragement through friends’ texts, calls, surprises at my front door, etc.  He has blessed me with so many friends who, unfortunately, have walked this road before me and can hold my hand through the tough times.  They truly are my inspiration.  (Someone cue Peter Cetera please).

Until next time…much love to you all & make every day count,

Jamie