Learning to Let Go of Control

I have not posted as much as I would have liked to. It is hard to find the right words to say. I am afraid of sounding weak and vulnerable. I am afraid of letting other people down. I am the not the one who normally needs help. I have always enjoyed helping others. It is hard for me to accept that, sometimes, I do need help.

I have had so many mixed emotions that each day can be a battle.  Sure, I have my good days. There are more good days than bad days. But there are days when I sit and think "How am I an inspiration to people? What do they see in me that I don't see?" There are days when I am just so tired. Tired of the medicine, tired of having to go to doctor appointments. And then there are my darkest days when I think "This battle, I am fighting, is so hard. Is it even worth fighting anymore." But on my darkest days my sweet babies remind me why I am fighting this battle. Whether it is their fat little arms squeezing my neck, hearing "I love you" in such a sweet voice or that extra cuddle time. It reminds me that it is all worth it.

Many of you know that I had a scare a few weeks ago. The doctor discovered fluid in my pelvis. Given my medical history he found this a little alarming. So, he ran tests. Praise God they all came back clear of cancer! Since, I have breast cancer, I am also at risk for ovarian cancer. After discussing it with my doctors, we have all decided it best to go ahead with a full  hysterectomy. I am scheduled tomorrow morning at 7:00. 

The night before surgery is always the hardest. My mind gets away from me. I start the "What if" game. What if the doctor finds something? What if something goes wrong? What if I don't wake up? This is probably my biggest fear. 

You see, I want to be here for my children. I want to see them grow up. I want to be there for all their graduations. I want to see them fall in love, to see them get married. To see them be mothers. Who will teach them about God? Who will make sure they attend church and Sunday School? Who will tuck them in at night? Who will kiss away their pain? Who will read them Bible stories at night and say their bed time prayers? All these things race through my mind as I try to fall asleep. I hate it. I hate not having control of a situation. I am a planner, an organizer. I like to know the precise timing of everything. 

In these times, where fear overcomes me, I can hear my parent's comforting words of wisdom, "Whatever happens is in God's hands". How true this is. He has brought me this far. Lord willing, He will continue to carry me through. So, I will turn in for the night. I will snuggle with my precious, Willow. In the morning I will sneak a kiss on each of my girls heads and I will whisper "I love you" as I leave for surgery.  Knowing that I am not in control.....God is. 

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. - Philippians 4:13

Today is day 16 of radiation, but who's counting?  When I was first diagnosed, I didn't think I could handle the radiation. People told me that it would not hurt. Doctors told me I would feel sunburned. What no one can prepare you for is the loneliness. 

The room is cool and dark. There is a table, much like a petscan with a huge circular drum which goes completely around the table. One ceiling tile is replaced with a lovely garden scene.  No one is in the room with you, but they can see and hear you through the cameras. 

 I will never forget the first day. I was shaking.While lying there I fought back the tears. I was scared of the unknown. Scared that this would hurt even though I was told it wouldn't. Scared of being all alone in that big room. I remember thinking "What if something goes wrong?". "Will anyone hear me if I yell?" I was like a small child just wanting my mom to come hold my hand. But know one can be with you in the room. 

While lying on the table is getting easier, each day is getting harder on me physically. I am finding myself not wanting to do anything but sit on the couch. It reminds me of the "hard chemo" days when I would sit on the couch being a  "couch potato".

The joy I can find is that these days of exhaustion will not last forever. I will regain my strength. I long for the day where I can enjoy a walk with my girls to see Rosie, my parent's horse. Or the day when I will feel up to taking walks around the property exploring. Or the day when I will have energy to jump on the trampoline. I will look back on these days as stepping stones that made me that much stronger. 

 

"Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me" -unknown

A lot has happened since my last post. I have been afraid of how people would react to what I said or misconstrue what I said. But then something happened. Last night, Nellie, came to me crying. "Misty called me a meanie pants!" (Now most of you will want to slap me because you have said the same thing to me, that I said to Nellie.) I hugged her and said "Honey, you can not let Misty's words affect you like this. They are just that words. People will say mean things to you throughout your whole life; but you can not let it bother you like this. Know in your heart that you are not a meanie pants." (I told you you would want to slap me.) You see, I have been focused on how others look at me or how others will think of me if I say or do something they do not agree with. But, I should not worry what others say about me, or how other people react to something they can not control. In the end, I am the one who lives with what I do or what decision I have made. The only person I should worry about is Jesus and His thoughts. So let those that think they know best do just that think they know best. 

Two days after we moved in with my parents, my dad found lice in Misty's head. And by lice I don't mean the beginning of lice the small hard to see bugs and nits. I mean the nits and the BIG bugs. (I know! EEEWWWWW! So gross!) He, then, checked the other girls. Nellie and Sadie were fine, but Willow had lice as well. I, of course, started to think I was failing as a mother. I mean if I missed something so simple as lice, what else was I missing with my children. I expressed my frustration to my mother. My mother told me I was being to hard on myself. I had just gone through very hard chemo, had bronchitis, and was trying to care for sick children (the last week I was in PA I had been in and out of doctor offices with sick kids). She told me to give myself a break! She, of course, was right. I had been on my couch almost the whole month of January. I only had left my cozy spot to take the children to the doctor. I didn't even go to church. I was not the only one caring for them. So, I could not take full responsibility for missing this. 

Once we arrived at my Mom and Dad's, I wasted no time in enrolling the girls in school. I did not want them to fall behind. We arrived on a Monday and they were in school by the end of the week. Nellie and Misty have adjusted well to their new environment. They love their new school and have already made friends. Noelle wants to play softball because a few of her friends are playing. 

I noticed, Nellie, was struggling with reading and math. Back home she did see a tutor for reading, which seemed to be helping her. I must say, I loved the charter school they were attending back home, but I noticed that Nellie was starting to shut down. Homework was like a dark, unwelcome  black cloud. Every time I said "time to do homework" we both would cringe. She always struggled with homework and by the time she was done I was ready to put my head through a wall. At her new school, Nellie was tested and placed on the lower end of reading. I thought she would have been right on course or maybe a little higher since she was at such an outstanding school. Unfortunately, she is a few points lower than where she should be for reading. 
Learning should be fun. It should make a child want to learn, not have knowledge shoved down their throats. This is why I miss homeschooling. If  the girls were having an off day, we would close the books and put school away. Children should have a desire to learn. Things are better retained when there is a want for knowledge. My mom, who taught me until 9th grade, is working with Nellie on her reading and math. 
I have been debating holding Nellie back. She would be in class with Misty then. But then I started to over think things. What would people say? What would they think of me? They would know how I have failed Nellie during this past school year by not diligently working with her. By not seeking the help she needed. No worries, again my mom and dad stepped in. They told me that I, again, was being to hard on myself. I had surgery prior to them starting school, and had been undergoing harsh chemotherapy treatments. I needed to not be so hard on myself. Others could have done the things that I was being so hard on myself about. (stop shaking your heads in agreement! I know they are right!) 

I want to applaud Josh for seeing the need for help. He saw that he could not care for me and 4 small girls on his own. He was seeing the bigger picture.He saw my weakness. He saw that if he sent me to my mom and dad's without the girls, then he might as well have thrown dirt in my face. My girls are my world. He also realized that he was one person and it was too hard to care for 4 small girls alone. I jumped at his idea to send us here. Others may knock us down for the decison. But one thing people need to realize is this. I had some help from people, but it was not enough. I needed someone to be there the time Josh left for work until he came home. I needed help with getting the girls ready for school, feeding them breakfast, playing with babies during the day so I could rest. I needed help with laundry, cooking, and cleaning. So, shame on you who want to put the blame on me, the sick one, for not calling people for help. People who had time and knew I was sick could have called me. The last thing on my mind was trying to find my phone, which is mostly dead, and trying to find someone to help everyday. Shame on you who thought it best for my family to move to Pa to help out. You wanted my dad, who has an excellent job and works from home, to find a job and my mom, who works at the school the girls attend, to find a job in Pa with this economy. Excuse me for this, but, ARE YOU CRAZY?!?! And you wanted mom and dad to leave two children behind at college, one is hearing impaired and used to being home on the weekend and the other still lives at home, as well as uproot their other two children still in middle school and High school!  Shame on you. I think people need to think about the bigger picture before putting their two cents in. 
I believe, I am right where I need to be. I have my mom, my dad, my sister Ruth (on the weekends), My brothers, Luke and Micah, and my sister Rebekah. That is six, sometimes seven, sets of hands to help hold, feed, bathe, do homework,  help with laundry and play with the girls. That is six, sometimes seven, sets of eyes to take notice of eating habits, see what the girls are into, to see if the girls have lice or see if the girls need extra help with a subject. 

We received a lot of nonsense over the decision to move me and the girls to Arkansas. But in my eyes it was the best decision. People will say things that may be hurtful or selfish. But that is just what they are words. They hold no value. I have a fantastic support group right here. I am right where I need to be. I had a wonderful medical team back home, but here I think I have an even better team. I am under the care of doctors who work at smaller practices. They are looking out for my best interest and not just me as a paycheck. My radiation oncologist saw the need for someone else to care for me. He referred me to another set of hands he thought more capable.

 I am not pointing the finger at people for not helping or being there for my girls.  I am merely pointing out that it was too much to ask one person to care for me and 4 small girls. I needed extra help. I needed 24/7 care which people were not able to do for us back in Pa. And that is OKAY! People have lives, and jobs. I understand! 
So, for those of you who read this and take offense, I kindly ask you to refrain from your comments. I have no room in life for negativity. I have no problem hitting the DELETE button on our "friendship" or "relationship".  

Friends are kisses blown to us by angels. ~Author Unknown

Not many people can say they are blessed to have such an amazing support group. Not many people have friends that are more like family. Well, I can say these things. I have an awesome support group. I have made friends who are more like sisters to me than they are friends. I can rely on them totally. For that I am blessed. Yes, I have had help from ladies at church helping me do laundry, or helping me clean my home. People have come over to sit with my girls or have watched them at their own home. My friend, Nikki (who is like a sister) left her family in Alabama, to come up here and take care of me and my family for a whole week! My children have come to know so many people who are more like family than friends. They have Nana Roe, Papa/Uncle Dennis, Auntie Bobbie, Mr. Steve, Justin, Auntie Leeann and Aunt Pam (who is family:)). Their lives have been so touched by these amazing people who have taken us all under their wings. My children are my world. You all have stepped up and helped fill in for me when I am too sick to do so. For this I am so very grateful. But there are two special ladies who have gone above and beyond the call of duty. Two ladies, who have tag-teamed chemo appointments, talked to the doctor during chemo, nursed me back to health when I was down from the chemo. They have given up free time to come help me with Doctor appointments, bringing me things or taking care of my children. These two ladies make me want to be a better person. When I am better, I hope to repay their kindness or help someone in need just as they have done for me. Recently, with the help of others, these two awesome ladies, in their spare time (which wasn't much time), planned an event for me! Rally 4 Randy Rhea. I even have a foundation, the Randy Rhea Foundation! How cool! With out these two very special ladies, I do not think I would have come this far. These two ladies have dropped what they are doing to help me and the girls. April and Allison, You are my rocks. I love you both very much. You have taught me so much! You are my home away from home. Blood may not bond us as sisters but life has. You two will forever be in my heart as sisters. I almost always like to leave a challenge at the end of my post. So, here is my challenge to you. With so much negativity and bullying in this world, stand up and make a difference. It starts with one. Imagine, if we all take one person under our wing how different this world would be. Find one person, sick or not, in your life and make a difference. Shower them with love. Be there for them. Send them a note in the mail or a quick little email. You never know, you may be the difference between life and death.

Happy New Year!

One would think that the virus I had Friday into Saturday or the Chemo I had Thursday would have dampened my spirits. But, I am happy to say, it has not! Yes, I may have a sore arm that is currently enflamed from the chemo and needing benedryl, a warm compress and anti-itching cream. Yes, my body is aching from dancing my tush off with the girls. And yes, I am going to need lots and lots of coffee in the morning. But all these things remind me that I am still alive and breathing. I am still able to enjoy watching my girls dance around the living room, without a care in the world. I can teach a 3 year old to play Chutes and Ladders or an almost 11 year old how to put on eye shadow in a really funky way! I can still rock my sweet 15 month old to sleep. I can watch my 5 and now 7 year old giggle as they play with their American girl dolls! I am alive and breathing thanks to my doctors who were so aggressive in finding my cancer, as well as taking an aggressive stance towards my chemo. We have less than ten minutes until the New Year. We are all camped out in the living room watching the last few minutes of Dick Clarks Rockin' New Years Eve. Waiting anxiously, for the ball to drop so we can run outside and bang some pots together. I would like to thank all my friends who have been so helpful to me and my family. You have all given up a lot of time to help me take care of not only myself but my girls. Thank you for helping me keep my house clean or doing my laundry! Thank you for taking my girls overnight so I could get some rest! I can never repay the kindness that has been shown to me. I also want to thank my family. Mom, thanks so much for taking time to come up here and care for me and the girls while I recovered from my surgery. It was such a wonderful time for the girls to see you! They miss you! Thanks to Dad for holding down the fort so Mom could come here. Aunt Pam, thank you for being a chauffer/babysitter/caregiver to me. I really appreciate it. I am sorry we got you sick for New Years. Hope you feel better. Thank you to all the people who brought us food and wrapped your arms around this family in kindness. Virginia folks, I need a cook book with all your fantastic recipes! To the wonderful ladies who adopted us for Christmas. You truly made this the best Christmas EVER!!! (Ask Sadie, she will tell you!) If I have not named you or thanked you it is not because I don't care or appreciate you. I do. I have a hard time remembering everything! I love each and every one of you! I am so grateful to all of you who have helped me by either letting me live with you, or by leaving your families to come take care of me! Without all of you, I would not be so strong. I wish everyone a happy, healthy and safe New Year. Let's make this year count! Live life to the fullest! Happy New Year and God Bless!

Brighten someones day.

Well, today was a challlenging day. I could only receive half of my chemo. My body was rejecting it. Good thing is I was able to receive half, so no need to go back. I am all done with my Taxol!!!!!! Can I get a woot! Woot! On my hard chemo days I get steroids to counteract all the pain Taxol causes. The Taxol makes it very hard to walk. The first few night, after chemo, I have a hard time sleeping. I do take medicine to help me sleep but that takes a while to kick in. So, instead of fighting to try and sleep I started using that time to pray. And let's face it, with four small girls night time is my only quiet time. I pray not only for myself but also for my girls, as well as friends who are sick or hospitalized. If you follow me on fb, you see a little girl I follow, who is my Misty's age. She will be starting her journey in chemo soon. She has already had brain surgery. She just finished her radiation. This little girl needs your prayers. As she needs her appetite back, so she can gain back weight. I also follow Bringing home the Browns. A sweet couple who prayed for seven years for a baby. God finally answered their prayers. At 34 weeks Heather had her son while husband wean was overseas. She slipped into coma. It has been amazing to watch their journey as she slowly climbs out od this state. Tonight my heart has been heavy, as a pray for a dear lady. She has had a rough year. Right now she is battling for her life yet again. This lady has a smile that will light up the room. I know it was very comforting to see her happy face the first time I sat in the blood chair to have my blood drawn. There she was, across from me, smiling away. It was infectious. Soon I was smiling with her. She has a wonderful family. Please pray for her. Pray for doctors to have the wisdom to help her. When you think you have it bad, look around you and see who you can pray for. It doesn't need to be a long flowery prayer. It can be short and simple. I guarantee it will help you feel just a little bit better.

My Ruthie

My sister, Ruthie, and I share something in common. We both love to write (she being a grammar nazi is far better than I). When we are feeling happy or sad, angry or frustrated, writing seems to help us portray our feelings. One of the many reasons I love her is her positive spirit. Anyone who knows Ruthie, knows she was born a fighter. When I am having a rough day, as I did last Thursday, I think to myself, "this isn't so bad. Think of Ruthie." Ruthie has had more surgeries than I can count. Her head has been shaved several times (and normally it is only half her head that is shaved). We share the same fear of needles and she has been poked by hundreds of needles. Yet, she still has a happy attitude. Nothing gets her down for too long. Ruthie, is only 18 hears old, and has faced many obsticles in her life. She is a true image of strength and courage. She is my hero. She is my inspiration. Here is a piece that she wrote. I had to share it (of course, with her permission) . Enjoy. I am a music box...... by Ruthie Billie Gayle Chaney. Earlier today, I was cleaning my room. I had been wrapping presents in my room for the last few days, and I had created such a mess. Tubes of wrapping paper took up an entire side of my room, a trash can with price tags and other plastic wrappings sat overflowing in the corner, and I had yet to finish unpacking all my stuff from my first semester of college as well. On my dresser, I had all kinds of things strewn all over - my Norton Anthology of Drama books; cards and other mail I had received during my time living on campus that I had brought home to put in The Box; and a music box in the formation of a blue-winged, blonde-haired fairy in a pink dress holding an orb in her left hand as a streak of rainbow ran from her hand to the base of the cloud she stood on, with the words "Expect a Miracle" running across the base. In the process of picking up tubes of wrapping paper, I, being naturally clumsy, didn't pay attention to the way I carried the tubes and I knocked a few things off the dresser onto my floor. When I came back from putting the wrapping paper away, I started to pick up the objects and return them to their location on the dresser. I picked up the fairy, and right away I did a double take because I felt it scratch my hand as I picked it up; I had never had that kind of feeling by the music box in any way before... I looked at the music box and noticed one of the wings was missing. My heart stopped for what seemed like an eternity, and I felt like I would pass out. My most prized possession had fallen apart. It had broken. After ten years of constantly being handled, of being moved from place to place, just one clumsy move on my part had caused the music box to finally shatter. Not to worry - after I spent several hours crying pathetically, the fairy was repaired with superglue and I was smiling again. In that seeming eternity my heart stopped, I realized something important. Having dealt with so many different and often unrelated struggles through recent years, I realize I'm just like that music box. When I was born, I was brand new and special to my parents and family, as well as many other people. I meant something to each person who knew me. Even today, one of my motivations is that I've crossed paths with so many people that I've come to mean so much to and who in turn also mean the world to me. That music box came into my possession the day I first really heard. I remember the excitement I felt as I ran my hands all over it and turned it over and over in my hands as the music played. I realized that the music box meant something to me. It was brand new. It was special. It was BEAUTIFUL. What it stood for, no one would ever be able to even fathom. The music box, before long, was a huge part of me. Wherever we moved, whatever room I stayed in, whatever space I owned, the music box always had a spot where it would be proudly displayed. I am just like that music box. I am one of God's music boxes. I'm here for a reason; I mean something in this world, but to so many people. He's put me in everyone's lives for a reason, just like my parents brought the music box into mine. Just like a music box, I sing a song - by living the way I live. I can go for a long time with my struggles, but every once in a while something will break me. Just like fate had me knock my music box off the dresser and cracked it, some things occasionally cause me to crack. Just like the music box was repaired, with God's help I have been able to pick myself back up again.