Today is the celebration of life service for Jenna Jacob.
This is the 6th grader that died last week after her body gave in to the effects of cancer and its treatments.
I feel a sad peace- a solomness, and want to inquire to God Almighty about all of this.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
March is coming in like a lion.
This past week has been filled with news of death & sickness. A 6th grader at our school died last week after years of battling cancer. I cannot state she lost her battle. I see that she is free from the pain of it, and that is not a loss by any means. We have lost her, and although I am not her teacher, and really never even had a conversation with her. I will miss her. Her gentle and quiet smile-sometimes half smile that caught my eye in the halls of our shared school. The knowing look when I had lost my hair to the chemo treatment I underwent the spring of 09', and by then she had regained hers with thick beauty. I have grief in my heart that gets stuck in my throat about this girl. This little girl that spend half her lifetime suffering from the effects of cancer and its treatment. Processing this challenges me to my core.
We will all gather this week during the evening to celebrate her life as her mother wishes. I am certain this is what Jenna wanted, too. I don't really know what to expect, but plan to come open and listening.
I will know her more through this timed of shared grief and joy for the time her mom did have her. I cannot fathom losing my child to death. I want to be a kinder and more tender mother at the very thought of this.
I have also learned of a friend's husband battling another form of cancer, and he is at the initial steps of treatment. His case sounds very complex and hopeful, but the complexity of it seems to be wanting to dash this couple's hope. I pray God leads them to the east coast and MGH.
Yesterday, I have learned of a precious woman's impending battle against bladder cancer. It all seems too much. This weekend, for the first time (it seems), I am angry. I AM ANGRY AT CANCER, AND WHAT IT PUTS PEOPLE THROUGH.
The diagnosis, the treatment, the healing, and even the dying from it seems to be unbearable.
We will all gather this week during the evening to celebrate her life as her mother wishes. I am certain this is what Jenna wanted, too. I don't really know what to expect, but plan to come open and listening.
I will know her more through this timed of shared grief and joy for the time her mom did have her. I cannot fathom losing my child to death. I want to be a kinder and more tender mother at the very thought of this.
I have also learned of a friend's husband battling another form of cancer, and he is at the initial steps of treatment. His case sounds very complex and hopeful, but the complexity of it seems to be wanting to dash this couple's hope. I pray God leads them to the east coast and MGH.
Yesterday, I have learned of a precious woman's impending battle against bladder cancer. It all seems too much. This weekend, for the first time (it seems), I am angry. I AM ANGRY AT CANCER, AND WHAT IT PUTS PEOPLE THROUGH.
The diagnosis, the treatment, the healing, and even the dying from it seems to be unbearable.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
It's my birthday!
Well, I have made it to forty nine.
I laughed when someone congratulated me on my birthday last evening.
As I reflected on the gutteral laughter her comment caused to me. I realized how so very appropriate the response was for me.
I feel a sense of a need to be congratulated-as if it is a milestone-on my birthday.
In a way, being a cancer patient frames birthdays in this manner.
It is also a time to reflect on being given a year.
So, this is the beginning of my 49th year on earth, and I would like it to count in deep and abiding ways as I approach 50 a day at a time.
Big sigh.
Smile.
I wrote my mother this morning, and remember a poem she had once inserted into a card to me during "my frowning" years.
"What sunshine is to the flowers
Smiles are to humanity
They are but trifle to be sure
But scattered along life's pathways
The good they do is inconceivable"
I have never forgotten that poem, and it seems appropriate to remember it today on my first birthday celebrated post chemo treatment!
I plan to smile more this year.
Worry less.
Live better.
Love more.
Stay kind-hearted.
Believe deeper.
Explore.
Inspire.
Live.
I laughed when someone congratulated me on my birthday last evening.
As I reflected on the gutteral laughter her comment caused to me. I realized how so very appropriate the response was for me.
I feel a sense of a need to be congratulated-as if it is a milestone-on my birthday.
In a way, being a cancer patient frames birthdays in this manner.
It is also a time to reflect on being given a year.
So, this is the beginning of my 49th year on earth, and I would like it to count in deep and abiding ways as I approach 50 a day at a time.
Big sigh.
Smile.
I wrote my mother this morning, and remember a poem she had once inserted into a card to me during "my frowning" years.
"What sunshine is to the flowers
Smiles are to humanity
They are but trifle to be sure
But scattered along life's pathways
The good they do is inconceivable"
I have never forgotten that poem, and it seems appropriate to remember it today on my first birthday celebrated post chemo treatment!
I plan to smile more this year.
Worry less.
Live better.
Love more.
Stay kind-hearted.
Believe deeper.
Explore.
Inspire.
Live.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Eve of My Parent's Wedding Anniversary
I just had a wonderful weekend celebrating my dear friend's fiftieth birthday. Sharing, eating, drinking champagne, and remembering times when we all were 20 something. Laughing and enjoying were the main themes of the evening.
Being able to stay up really late and talking with two longtime friends was a gift.
Nearing fifty myself, I am grateful, so grateful, for this freedom I feel to live forward. I worry less. Ironic, in a way, now, I have more to worry about, but somehow this experience with cancer has brought me to a place of "less worry". I feel so utterly in the hands of God, that I cannot really stay worried for too long. His presence fills the gaping holes that widen when I worry. So, thankfully, worry never seems to last too long. Beside, what does "worry" really ever change? I have learned this the hard way. Seems like most of my life's lessons have come along like this. However, post cancer lessons are coming at a much quieter and softer pace. I believe I have slowed down enough to hear those lessons be whispered to me as I see them unfold.
My parents will have been married 50 something years tomorrow. They wed in 1958. The loyalty for each other and the family they birthed holds them together securely. I am grateful for these two people-my parents.
Being able to stay up really late and talking with two longtime friends was a gift.
Nearing fifty myself, I am grateful, so grateful, for this freedom I feel to live forward. I worry less. Ironic, in a way, now, I have more to worry about, but somehow this experience with cancer has brought me to a place of "less worry". I feel so utterly in the hands of God, that I cannot really stay worried for too long. His presence fills the gaping holes that widen when I worry. So, thankfully, worry never seems to last too long. Beside, what does "worry" really ever change? I have learned this the hard way. Seems like most of my life's lessons have come along like this. However, post cancer lessons are coming at a much quieter and softer pace. I believe I have slowed down enough to hear those lessons be whispered to me as I see them unfold.
My parents will have been married 50 something years tomorrow. They wed in 1958. The loyalty for each other and the family they birthed holds them together securely. I am grateful for these two people-my parents.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Day 2 towards turning 49
February marks my birthday month. A birthday this year seems quite significant to me. There were several moments over these past two years that I didn't think I'd make it to 49.
Now, I am reframing my diagnosis, and learning how to live forward.
It is challenging not to be in the fear or mistrust, but for today I choose to trust God, and not lean on my own understanding of all this.
Now, I am reframing my diagnosis, and learning how to live forward.
It is challenging not to be in the fear or mistrust, but for today I choose to trust God, and not lean on my own understanding of all this.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
February 1, 2011 Blogging Again
Well, intentions are good, but....I have not been able to keep up with the blogging.
I am at my post three month after 18 months of chemo treatment point.
I went to see Dr. "C" yesterday to get the results from my CT scan.
C-L-E-A-R! I appreciate knowing that information.
I waited with 40% anxiety from Sunday to Monday when my appointment was scheduled.
It manifested with a restless sleep, and a state of discombobulation internally. It was weird, but I got through it, and come April for the next three month check up-I know what to expect, but then again, with a cancer diagnosis-do I really know what to "expect"?
As I was finishing the Avastin treatment in October 2010, after being encouraged to "hold off" on removing the power port in my right side of my chest, I humorously (but seriously) scolded my oncologist about feeling like the whole team of doctors are just waiting for this ovarian cancer that had previously invaded my ovaries and fallopian tubes and my stomach lining called something that begins with the letter "O" to creepily come back...
I insisted that my power port be removed in November, and that was granted to respect my psychological need to say "enough".
I rely on Proverbs 3:5-6
The Lord spoke to me through this scripture many many months ago. In my darkest moments with dealing with this diagnosis I meditate on His word. He reminds me...
"Mary-Margaret, trust Me with all your heart. Do not lean on the knowledge of doctors. Do not lean on your fears, Acknowledge Me, Mary-Margaret. My Name. My Power. My Strength. My Love. I promised to direct your path and I have. This is the path I have led you to follow. Trust Me."
I am at my post three month after 18 months of chemo treatment point.
I went to see Dr. "C" yesterday to get the results from my CT scan.
C-L-E-A-R! I appreciate knowing that information.
I waited with 40% anxiety from Sunday to Monday when my appointment was scheduled.
It manifested with a restless sleep, and a state of discombobulation internally. It was weird, but I got through it, and come April for the next three month check up-I know what to expect, but then again, with a cancer diagnosis-do I really know what to "expect"?
As I was finishing the Avastin treatment in October 2010, after being encouraged to "hold off" on removing the power port in my right side of my chest, I humorously (but seriously) scolded my oncologist about feeling like the whole team of doctors are just waiting for this ovarian cancer that had previously invaded my ovaries and fallopian tubes and my stomach lining called something that begins with the letter "O" to creepily come back...
I insisted that my power port be removed in November, and that was granted to respect my psychological need to say "enough".
I rely on Proverbs 3:5-6
The Lord spoke to me through this scripture many many months ago. In my darkest moments with dealing with this diagnosis I meditate on His word. He reminds me...
"Mary-Margaret, trust Me with all your heart. Do not lean on the knowledge of doctors. Do not lean on your fears, Acknowledge Me, Mary-Margaret. My Name. My Power. My Strength. My Love. I promised to direct your path and I have. This is the path I have led you to follow. Trust Me."
Friday, May 14, 2010
Keeping Up With Blogging
Well, I just reread my January 1 posting, and realize it is now Spring-May 14th to be exact, and my desire to blog a lot in this new year was postponed by many events.
I am still journeying on a cancer free life...
My young son, teaching career, treatments, and everyday living keep me so busy.
Taking the time to write on a blog just isn't happening...
I live life a day at a time now.
I am feeling the side effects daily from the study drug, but feel soooooooooo much better the further away I get from the last heavy artillery chemo treatment of this past September.
I am continuing on the 5-step health plan, but it has become the 4 -step and it continues to be:
1. prayer
2. nutrition
3. exercise
4. rest
I need to be more disciplined about the exercise, but it's progress-not perfection!
I well up with gratitude towards God for saving my life and for my hair.
It's back, and I now wear a sassy short "do". It's the new me, and I love it.
I am still journeying on a cancer free life...
My young son, teaching career, treatments, and everyday living keep me so busy.
Taking the time to write on a blog just isn't happening...
I live life a day at a time now.
I am feeling the side effects daily from the study drug, but feel soooooooooo much better the further away I get from the last heavy artillery chemo treatment of this past September.
I am continuing on the 5-step health plan, but it has become the 4 -step and it continues to be:
1. prayer
2. nutrition
3. exercise
4. rest
I need to be more disciplined about the exercise, but it's progress-not perfection!
I well up with gratitude towards God for saving my life and for my hair.
It's back, and I now wear a sassy short "do". It's the new me, and I love it.
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