Pep Talk

Listen up, eyebrows and eyelashes! You guys have been underestimated all season. I'm sorry. You are hugely important to this team. You frame the face, help give expressions, and you have the ability to change an entire look. You are doing a fantastic job hanging in there, and I appreciate your determination and your heart! Look, I promise not to take you for granted ever again. Eyebrows, I will not wait too long before grooming you when you are back to your full potential. Eyelashes, I will not keep makeup on you overnight. You guys need to fight. You're strong. You will not be erased from this face. I need you, buddies! Are you with me? Let's go out there and fight this thing!

My Best-ies

I awoke at 5 this morning after a night out with my birthday club girls, quietly turned on my laptop in the kitchen, slipped in the disc of photos to music Teri gave us all last night and wept. These four women . . . my best-ies. Although only five years together, the life hurdles we have overcome together bond us like no other: births, loss of family pets, miscarriages, marriage problems, moves, the near collapse of friendships, the death of a mom, the death of a dad. . .the cancer diagnosis. Through it all, we've been rocky, but we've stayed strong. These are the friends who drop everything and show up on your doorstep with chocolate and wine to cheer you up. They call you on your 50 minute drive to work at 6am to keep your mind off your cancer. They are in the waiting room while you undergo surgery. They take the day off and drive hours out of their way to play silly games with you during your first chemo treatment. They show up at your second treatment wearing a bridesmaid gown to make you smile. They pray. They offer time and time again a retreat for your son so you can rest. They remind you that God is in control. They paint their bodies with "Lyngstrong" in support of you and run a 5k. They go pick out wigs with you and make it fun. They are solid. Their grand gestures and their daily emails. The looks on their faces mean more these days. Their hugs are longer. It is not easy to be the loved one of someone with cancer. I get that they don't always know what to say or what to do. These four women are special beyond the meaning of the word. I will watch those pictures fade in and out on that DVD and listen to those lyrics hundreds of times this weekend . . . and weep.

Faded Genes

For better or for worse, there comes a time in our lives when we accept the nose we got from grandma or the feet we got from Aunt Ruth. In fact, we might even be thrilled we received dad's great skin or mom's fast metabolism. Genes. Some genes we do not expect will put us face to face with some life changing decisions and not just for ourselves, but for anyone who shares our genes.

Last week I found out I carry the breast cancer/ovarian cancer gene. I guess I wasn't surprised. The good news is I will not need radiation after my four more rounds of chemo. The bad news is I must now have a bilateral mastectomy, and while I'm at it, it looks like I will be saying goodbye to my ovaries as well. But God gave me one perfect blessing with these ovaries. And I don't need them anymore. Breasts can be rebuilt and I would prefer ones that do not come with cancer, so God is taking care of that.

In the grand scheme of things, everything we have gotten really comes from God. He's just using me to further this story, this story that started off seemingly uneventful, but has now taken a few turns along the way. He is strengthening me, making me humble, making me grateful for what I do have.

So Long, Hair

"Mom, put your wig on. You look more beautifuler with it on." He's right. For all of you liars who said "if anyone can pull it off, you can." That was a really sweet effort at making me feel better about being bald. But let's be honest ladies, none of us can really pull it off. It's ok. My new look is way better than spending one more morning in the shower holding handfuls of hair. I noticed it last Saturday, strands and strands, so to combat the fallout I went to get it shaved. However, my sweet stylist said she could not do it. She, like so many other foolish optimists, said, "but what if it doesn't fall out?" So she cut it shorter. I should have demanded she do it. I had a gut feeling it would happen before I made it back to her. Day 13-a drain full and losing by the minute. I wore my first bandanna to work to contain the mess. Day 14-handfuls. We have no clippers. I call my neighbor. She brings clippers. Some say they are very emotional when they shave their heads. I couldn't wait to get it off. I felt free from waiting. And I knew I was not going to spend one more morning in the shower holding my hair. So, I threw on my wig and went to work . . . my new hair . . . my temporary hair because the great thing about hair is it grows back.