Two years ago (I think), I wrote a blog about how much I hate New Year's Resolutions because I never stick with them and I am just setting myself up to fail. I make them every year anyway, but I hate them. Well, this year I don't have any resolutions to make 2013 better than 2012 because well, it's not in my control to.
2012 started off pretty ok. We were living our life in Bethlehem in a nice house we were renting. We were healthy, happy, busy, and tired. But we were good. Life was good. We celebrated a 2 year old's birthday in January, an 8 year old's in February. We planned and payed for our family vacation for the coming September. I quit a job I had worked at for years and moved on to a new restaurant. Things were happening, things were changing, life was good.
In April, we went to a classmate's birthday party for Fred when it dawned on us, Bethlehem was not conducive to the family life we were trying to mold. The man and I went home with a plan, for the next 4 years we were going to save every last dime and buy a house so the Bubs wouldn't start school in the BASD and Fred wouldn't go to middle school. We are so patient, we went home and started looking at houses immediately online. I mentioned on facebook that we were just browsing the MLS when a realtor friend messaged us to get in contact with her immediately. Things happened quickly and exactly one week after deciding we would buy a home in four years, we had put an offer in on a house and the next day, May 6, it was accepted. Divinely orchestrated.
At about the same time our offer was accepted, I knew the new job was not going to work out. There were far too many conflicts of interest between myself and the establishment and I just knew I didn't belong there. After a few weeks of anxiety, I put on my big girl pants and contacted my former boss. Within 20 minutes I had a job waiting for me as soon as I was settled into the new home. Divinely timed.
A few delays in settlement on the other side and we were exactly one week from owning our own home. It was exciting. NOTHING could bring us down, we were almost homeowners, I was going back to my old job, we were moving to a quite, peaceful small town with a great school. Then on July 14th, I got a phone call I wasn't expecting. My grandmother was sick and was being taken to the hospital. Some phone calls later, she seemed stable and so I went into work. Two hours into my shift I was told to come to the hospital immediately to say goodbye. My world came crashing down in that moment. I got to the hospital and saw my last loving grandparent on life support. Just 2 week prior we were out to lunch and she seemed great, and now, I'm saying goodbye. It didn't take long for her to pass but it was excruciating.
July 21st came and we had an amazing group of friends who helped us move from one house to another, and set up the new one, in less than 12 hours. It was incredible. Family came the next day and on July 23rd, my grandfather's birthday, we said goodbye to Gram.
On July 25th I had a dermatology appointment for this rash I have had since being a teenager. Many doctors over the years said it was nothing but during this summer is flared up so badly I was trying every over the counter and homeopathic remedy to get it to go away. Clothing drove me crazy, the heat and humidity burned, showering was excruciating. The Dr. was 99.9% confident it was a form of eczema and prescribed me an ointment to calm the itching, but he had to take a biopsy, just in case. A follow up appointment was made for September and I went on my way. Time went by and not a single thought was given to the fact that I had a biopsy, I have been getting biopsies for other things since I was 19 and they always came back fine so this would too. Exactly 3 weeks later, I was sitting in a meeting for Girl's Quest when my phone rang. It was the Dr. and he was terribly sorry to tell me, but I did not have eczema, I had a form of Cutaneous T-Cell Lymphoma and I needed to see a colleague of his as soon as possible at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia.
Thankfully, between my diagnosis and my follow up in Philadelphia, I was back at work with people who cared, Fred started his new school, and we went on the vacation we had scheduled back in January. Divinely orchestrated distractions. Vacation was amazing. Friends came to visit, memories were made, and tan lines were deepened. I was blissfully unaware of reality for 8 straight days. My appointment in Philadelphia came, needles were used, biopsies taken, tests were scheduled. During this time, my GYN called me to tell me we needed to talk when my treatment was started. I ignored him.
At the beginning of October, I started my treatment and life was feeling breathable again. We were settled into our new home and starting to plan for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Then, the first week of November I was harassed again by my GYN to let me know I needed to schedule a consultation with him and I could not put it off any longer. It was scheduled for December 6th and put out of my mind.
Thanksgiving was celebrated with family, Christmas shopping was in full swing. The man took me to New York the Saturday after Thanksgiving and it was wonderful. I had the most amazing time and CANNOT wait to go back. It was our first weekend away from the boys that was just for us since Fred was 4. I honestly can't explain how wonderful it was but it certainly was motivation to be alone together for at least one weekend every year. "I'm in love, I'm in love and I don't care who knows it!" :)
We were reunited with the men and 2 weeks later I had my appointment. The man had to work so I took my mom. We sat in the waiting room thinking up reasons why we were there and ways to fight whatever the Dr. was going to say. An hour later we walked out of the office both stunned at what was said. It had been determined that I needed a hysterectomy and it needed to be done soon. With this knowledge, and feeling somewhat defeated, I had a follow up for my CTCL. I was shocked (and somewhat skeptical) when I was told I could stop treatment because my lesions were gone and there was NO SIGN of cancer anymore. The Dr. was amazed that my body responded so well to treatment. The Man picked me up and swung me around the garage when I got home. We celebrated. Yes, I was facing major surgery in less than 48 hours but in that moment, we were celebrating. Divinely scheduled appointment.
I went into surgery on December 14th after watching the news of the Connecticut elementary school shooting thanking God that my Fred was safe and sound with his grandma. I came home on Saturday and took on the process of healing. And it was a process. Monday morning I went to the Dr for a sinus infection. Tuesday morning I went to the Dr because of an excruciating pain in my neck and head. After testing to rule out meningitis and mono, I was told that my lymphatic system (which helps control the immune system, which is affected because of having T-Cell lymphoma because T-Cells are your immune system), could not handle the stress of the anesthesia and it was in overdrive. I was sent home with muscle relaxers, migraine medicine, prescription strength Motrin,and told to rest and finish my antibiotics. Just as I was starting to feel better, Friday evening I had immense stomach pain, had some bleeding, and started to run a fever. Back to the hospital I went only to find out, there was no real reason why I was sick. My white cell count was great and clearly there was nothing wrong other than I had some stitches prematurely rupture. Back to strict bed rest it was. After a few days of fighting flu-like symptoms it was Christmas morning and I was feeling a little bit alive. I drank my coffee, took my antibiotic, and watched my men open their presents. An hour later, I was covered in hives, my tongue was slightly swollen and my lips were burning. Turns out, I'm highly allergic to sulfa drugs. MERRY CHRISTMAS! The next morning, my phone rang and it was my GYN calling AGAIN (at this point, I didn't ever want to speak to him again). It turns out that I had severe cervical dysplasia (cancer) deep in my tissue from the organs he removed. He informed me that within the next few months it would have been very bad and I just dodged a major bullet. I didn't even know what to say. Who knew a severe prolapse would have saved my life? Divinely orchestrated organs.
It is now December 31, 2012. I am 16 days post-op and 6 days post setback and I feel pretty good for the first time in months. I know that in 24 hours my problems won't be gone. I will still be dealing with the emotions of grief, cancer, and surgery. I will enter 2013 re-starting my chemotherapy cream as my lesion and rash has come back in the past two weeks. I will still have doctor appointments and will still have struggles because this is life. Although I don't understand why we have struggles in our life I know I don't need to. I will continue to cling to He who suffered far more than anyone else I know. I will cling to Him knowing he has felt every feeling and every emotion. He knows what I feel more than anyone and to Him I will rely on. I will draw my strength from Him and I will live knowing He is holding me, even on days when I don't feel it or see it, I will know it. I can pray for healing, a respite from sorrow, a reprieve from day to day struggles, but I can rest knowing, even if the healing doesn't come, the sorrow doesn't heal, the struggles don't disappear, I am being taken care of by the One who has been there and with Him I will walk with in 2013.
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