Turning on the Lights in the Haunted House of Cancer

This was the metaphor I used with my students yesterday when I shared with them that I had a cancerous tumor removed, and explained how blessed I am to be in the category that I am, just needing treatments.  Telling my students about my situation was one of the biggest moments of my life.  I didn't take it lightly and will never forget it.  Standing in the back of the room with tear filled eyes was my partner, Jakki, along with our Guidance Counselor and our Principal.  I think it went well...I assured the children that I am not contagious, that the cancer was removed, and I am not going to die.  I gave them a check off list of information to remember what I had told them....and let them ask any questions they wanted......they had a letter to take home to their parents.  I hugged each one and told them I loved them.  After the "are you going to lose your hair" question was answered "yes, during the summer"....one of my lively, fun little girls said, "I think you should get a blue afro."  :) 

Telling my teacher friends about 30 minutes later, was another experience I will carry with me forever.  What a special time of encouragement that was to me.  (You should have seen the looks on their faces when my friend and principal opened the conversation - at my request - with, "Angela wants me to share with you that she is going to have twins...." and I asked them if they would support me....and told them that I needed another diaper shower.  The looks were indescribable.)

Telling my family has been an experience beyond words....my family who took this news so seriously and said such loving things.  I treasure your tear filled, angry, supportive, shocked, loving responses.  Truly.  You have already played a part in my recovery.

My cousins, my friends and the friend we have in Mrs. Tanja who takes care of Macy and Molly - you all are so important to me.  MORE than you can know. 

TURNING THE LIGHTS ON IN THE HAUNTED HOUSE OF CANCER
I could preach a sermon right here.  But, I repeat my post title because that's what I've been doing for the three weeks....figuratively, flipping lightswitches.  The day that I found out I had breast cancer, I was standing outside my school building - had stepped out to return the nurse's phone call - and when she explained my biopsy test results, my world slowed to a painful, slow motion, I can't breathe, crawl through clear, thick molasses.  I walked in, called my partner and dear friend my news.  She took a step back, in shock, tears glimmering.  Her support began there and has been SOLID since then along with my teammates.  It was the day before the state PASS Testing, and I was in the middle of a "very important" review before our big writing test.  I stepped down the hall to find my principal...told her...she cried instantly....was angry instantly...and her take-action support began there and has been equally SOLID every moment after.  I walked back to my classroom, finished my PASS Review, and was allowed to leave early.  I drove home, a drive that I did against my will, because I knew that what I was going to tell Charles would change his life forever.  When I walked in, he said, "Are you home early for a GOOD reason?"  I shook my head no, and he knew I had gotten bad results from my biopsy.  While we hugged, I looked at my girls, faced the fact that I may die, and my soul felt like it hit the ground like a ton of bricks. 

So, I did what intelligent women do.  I went to Target, and shopped.  For distractions.  I took Macy with me, and we strolled around for a long time.  For the next couple of days, I tried to process just the idea that I may die and how to approach the acceptance of it.

Many more details could be shared, but...jumping ahead....I started learning through doctor appointments and literature.  One of my first "ligthswitches" was turned on by an angel who lives on this earth.  Her name is Daphne.  I am proud to know her.  She is Dr. Sweatman's nurse who I trust completely and has held my hand, cried with me and captured my heart.   She started to teach me in the most loving way, about my diagnosis.  She treats you as though there is no one else waiting on her and you have her undivided attention and care.  As I started to learn, I started to be less scared.  There were several lightswitches ahead that would get turned on as test results came back.

Dr. Jennifer Risinger, who is praised by people all over our area, immediately upon my diagnosis, began to help connect me with experienced surgeons, knowledge and lightswitches to extinguish fears.  Dr. Risinger wisely doesn't follow the crowd of doctors who are impersonal and don't have time to care about you individually.  She called me at home and called in a favor so that I could speak with a surgeon on just day 2 of my journey.  I love that woman.  And I love the dear friend I have found in her practice, Sylvia.  Sylvia was our sonographer who helped me to see Macy and Molly throughout my pregnancy and we became friends through that process.  She has checked on me repeatedly and I'm so thankful.  There is no other practice like the one run by the ladies of Women's Physician Associates. 

My main point here is - cancer can be a terrible thing and for some it is more than terrible...we all know precious people who were taken from us because of it....... but, if you are fortunate enough to catch it early enough, your story can be one of surviving.  The American Cancer Society statistics show that more than 1/2 of the people diagnosed with cancer survive.  Sometimes, cancer can be just a speedbump.  Please go to your doctor regularly.  Try to be proactive and catch whatever you can early enough to be a lucky duck.

Much love....more later.

Remaining blog posts will NOT be this long!  Had to get this one out.

PS---As I was clicking "publish" on this post, a friend drove up in my driveway.  Macy, Molly and I were on the porch.  She got out of her car, carrying a case of diapers, a case of wipes....and......a duck!  My lucky duck which will go with me to my treatments along with my prayer cross from another dear woman and friend.  Thank you, dear friends.