Good Morning, Leg Hair

Good Morning, Leg Hair!

I don't fully understand your growth , but I will not challenge you! Shaving will never again be a complaint from these lips. You have been diligent in growing back despite two impending treatments on the horizon. I commend you for your efforts and realize you must be exhausted from your trip. I will happily lather you up today and send you into the depths of Bob's razor blade, allowing you the rest you truly deserve.

Thanks,

Toni

PS-On your way back, could you encourage your friends on my head?

If You Really Knew Me

I am a self proclaimed reality show junkie. I have just come upon my latest MTV addiction following years of The Real World and Road Rules and all of the challenges in between. Now sucking me in is, If You Really Knew Me, where high school students are put to the test to break down stereotypes and social barriers by bringing students together and finding a common ground: pain.

I'm a teacher. I've seen this great change attempted. The result is very empowering . . . at first. So I am intrigued to see how it is done and if the long-term effects will be seen. Don't get me wrong, it is a great intervention! Anything to get teenagers to really "see" each other and understand where people "come from" can promote a much more positive and united environment, which is lacking in the clique-filled schools. I know, I was a part of these cliques in high school and nothing has changed. But, if people really knew ME in high school they would have seen indescribable pain from my parents' divorce and the more jarring aftermath, dealing with having very little supervision around my house, pressure to keep up appearances with my popular friends who grew up in wealthier families, the shame of feeling responsible for my best friend ending up in a hospital one night, the insecurities about my looks, my sports, my boyfriends. In high school so many of us buried the pain, put on the face we think others expected us to have and moved forward.

I admit to doing this in my adult life as well over the years, even though I know better, even though God has given me the strength and courage to not compare myself to others like I used to and to be grateful and happy with what He has blessed me with in my life because those things are endless. If you really knew me, you'd know I am not sitting around devastated about cancer every day. If you really knew me, you'd know that I may not feel great but I feel great. If you really knew me, you'd know when you use words like "inspirational" to describe this cancer thing it makes me uncomfortable because I am just doing exactly what you would do. Because just like in high school, we are all way more alike than we ever even knew.

Forced into Perspective

A tragedy in our town puts my cancer in perspective. On Saturday, one of Ethan's classmates was killed in a fire that claimed not only her life, but the lives of five of her siblings, leaving two parents and one child to comprehend this extreme loss. It leaves behind a pain in this community and forces us, as parents, to explain the unexplainable to our children. We left for vacation the day the fire occurred and received word of the deaths through a text on our way down. The numbness that followed, the shock that still lingers, and the realization that my little boy, snuggling his lamby in the backseat, was going to have to wrap his brain around death on a level that he has not had to concerned me and raised questions: Will he now be afraid of our house catching on fire? Would he perseverate on how his friend lost her life? Would he be mad at God? Would he connect her senseless death to the fragility of life and begin thinking our deaths, fearing them? We decided to wait until after vacation to tell him. I solicited advice from my friends. Bob and I agreed telling him that God saw his friend and her siblings were in trouble, so he sent angels down to save them from the fire and bring them safely to Heaven was the best way to explain it. He knows that once we are in Heaven we do not come back to Earth because God needs us more, and that Heaven is a beautiful, fun, carefree place where all our dreams come true. This is exactly how I ended up breaking the news to him days later on one of our last walks to the beach. Starting the words was the hardest, but he made it so much easier, sensing what I had to tell him was important, he stopped me and said, "Mom, don't wait, just tell me. I want to know now." So he took my hand and we kneeled down on the sidewalk where I proceeded to tell him in an emotional and not so eloquent way. I will never forget his wordless reaction. He bowed his head, shaking it up and down and let out a sigh that broke my heart. He was silent for a moment, then asked a lot of questions. And in true "kid form"he said, "I'm really sad about Mackenzie but I am so happy you didn't say it was Catlin (his best girlfriend in class)." We immediately, still kneeled there on the sidewalk, just prayed.

Kids are amazing! They take in the information and deal with it in their own way whether they fully understand it or not, they find a way to deal with it and surprise us each time. He is processing each day, mentioning her during many quiet moments, praying about her daily and nightly, healing in his own way. I am proud to watch him throughout his processing. It comforts me. Because sometimes when I think 3-5 years down this cancer road, I get worried. I am not so worried about my own mortality, as I feel the same way Ethan does about Heaven, but I worry about him. I think if God's plan is to take me earlier than expected, he will process and teach others and surprise us all.

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.