Pray or Worry, Don't Do Both~N&B update~:-)

I've been thinking about this blog for quite some time, unsure which angle of this cancer journey I wanted to focus on for this entry. There's been a lot that’s happened since the last blog posted January of 2014 (yikes, sorry about the delay!) I've noted certain events via Facebook posts, but those statuses captured only a fraction of this experience. There's just—SO MUCH—from emotional swings, to physical changes, to how this has affected those I love. It's a journey I wish on no one, yet at the same time there have been some positives that I wouldn't change for anything.

Summary Update: I was diagnosed with breast cancer on October 1, 2013. It came only four months after our move to California. It's crazy to think about how that year changed in so many ways. Brandy’s mom died of cancer in December 2012, so when 2013 began, the pain was still fresh. By March, however, we were healing and seeking change. We decided to uproot and move west; we hit the road a few months later and California became our new home on June 4, 2013. As you see, we hadn't been in California long before the fresh start we had dreamed about came crashing down around us. Neither of us would have known that by the end of 2013 I'd be in chemo fighting my own cancer battle.

I wrapped up 16 rounds of chemo on April 15^th of last year. Can you say ecstatic? I was genuinely filled with an abundance of joy. My hair and eyebrows and lashes slowly started to grow back and I regained some energy too (chemo is ridiculously draining…sometimes a trip to the kitchen and back is overwhelming). On May 27^th I had a double mastectomy with immediate reconstruction (placement of tissue expanders) and removal of all lymph nodes under my right armpit; this was because I had a positive node at diagnosis and my surgeon and I agreed to remove them all. After surgery I was feeling great! Everything seemed to be on track. The pathology report indicated no metastasis and my surgeon assured me that all of the cancer had been removed. We even took out my port, which is a small device implanted under my skin just beneath my clavicle. The port is where chemo is administered.
On July 7^th we swapped the expanders for the implants. Again, all went smoothly and I healed wonderfully. Next stop: radiation. I simply did not want to do it. I battled this decision over and over and finally resigned to having it as an added precaution to prevent future recurrence. Radiation began July 28^th. It was every morning for five weeks, 25 rounds total. Well, I now have to backtrack…

Just before radiation began, I noticed a small bump in the bend of my right arm. I didn't concern myself with it. With all I had been through and being aware of potential issues I could have with my right arm, I cast any concern aside. Well a second one popped up a couple weeks later. Then a third and fourth, all in random areas of my upper body. I reached out to my primary doctor and was told to see my oncologist. I was in my second to last week of radiation when I met with an oncologist after radiation. It was then that I knew. He didn't say anything other than the lumps needed a biopsy. But it was the look on his face…I read the results in his bleak expression. I hadn't made it out of the building before bursting in tears. I cried a lot that day. The following week I had the biopsy and on the afternoon of Friday August 29^th, shortly after completing my final round of radiation that morning, I learned that the lumps (subcutaneous nodules) were cancerous. Talk about a blow….I was devastated. I had finally reached what was the end of the journey only to learn it was starting all over again. I used a lot of Kleenex in the doctor’s office that day. The following Friday, after two scans, I learned the cancer had spread to my liver and chemo needed to resume ASAP; I started again after the weekend. The drugs were new to me, quite powerful, and had me on my behind for days. I experienced nausea and vomiting and pounds dropped quickly; by the end of September I was 25 pounds lighter than when I began the journey a year before. In November, after follow up scans, I was told my liver was “looking great” but it seemed the cancer had found its way to a small portion of bone also. My body adjusted to the new chemo, as well as the bone strengthening treatments I started in November, and by end of December, I was handling it much better. And then the New Year…

The first weekend in January I started experiencing excruciating pain on my right side and down my right arm. There was a large, tight lump on my side, under my armpit that I described as a cramped muscle that wouldn't relax. Suddenly, I was unable to move my arm, flip my hand, nor sleep properly. After several days I went to the ER. To wrap up this part of the story, I had two surgeries during my eight day stay; my doctors needed to be sure there was no infection and particularly, no cancer. My plastic surgeon removed my right implant, cleaned the area and placed it back in. Well, the pain didn't subside so several days later I was back in the OR to remove the implant for good. Oh talk about putting on a brave face. I had no idea that was the beginning of a month long depression.

I had handled most of my cancer journey in stride, but the loss of my breast, leaving me with just one, was much harder than I anticipated. It hurt my feelings deeply, and had me questioning why I was striving so hard to get well when it seemed I only faced setback after setback. I had truly reached the point of giving up. The medication I was prescribed by four different doctors temporarily helped ease my emotional pain. The last couple weeks of January are a blur; honestly, I barely remember them.  I was under the influence of three pain relievers, Valium, and muscle relaxers. I took all of them daily, more than once each. My oncologist refused to refill the meds that she hadn't prescribed and even though I argued her at the time, I’m grateful for that. I was forced to accept the disappointments with a clear mind. And still, I cried every single day.

I was praying more than ever. Those around me continued to pray and it seemed contagious as even more people I don't know emailed and contacted me with prayers as well. I cannot tell you how thankful I am that God placed my need for prayer on the hearts of so many. I needed it and it brought me through the darkness in which I had begun to spiral so quickly.

My sister arrived mid-February and stayed for a week and a half. Because I'm not working, most days I'm home alone with idle time. If that time is not used properly, that means an idle brain as well. We all know what an idle brain can do and that’s create havoc in the mind with incessant, wandering thoughts. Her visit was a blessing. She got me out of the house, even if just to go for a walk. If we didn't get out, we stayed in and talked. We read scripture. She prayed over me. She kept me busy and uplifted and I needed that. It prevented me from sitting alone dwelling on my mortality. Although I have purposely avoided reading about the average prognosis for women in my situation, I'm aware and trust me, it's murder on the brain if allowed.

The journey continues… As of right now, my oncologist is making treatment decisions visit by visit. I've reached a new place in this journey, though. It was only last week that I had the courage to pray the scariest prayer of my life. While I pray for and believe in healing miracles, I had to surrender it ALL to God. It was the only way to find the peace I had been craving. My life is in His hands. I'd love to believe I've only lived half my years and will live another 42. But whatever His will is, I accept it. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop praying for healing, because oh yes, I will be. ;-) It simply means I've put all my trust in Him. I can move forward day by day with a peace I didn’t have before. You know the saying: pray or worry, don’t do both (first time I heard that it was during a 50 Cent interview with Oprah; thank you 50!). So, onward and forward with no worries!

I can't end this blog without thanking Brandy for her continued strength and courage throughout this process. With all that she's endured over the last several years regarding close losses, she has managed to maintain the caregiver role with passion. Over the past year and a half she’s given me well over one hundred shots, bathed me when I was unable to do so myself, cooked and cleaned and made sure all of my needs were met. We've cried together and prayed together; we've prayed together and prayed alone. The level of intimacy we've developed is like nothing I could have imagined. Our connection and bond is unbreakable.

This blog isn’t written to sadden anyone, but instead I pray it’s encouraging in some way. I find refuge in blogs and books written by women who have gone through this journey. If sharing my experience can benefit someone else, I’m happy to share. J My mindset right now is to absorb each day with whatever it brings. If it’s a quiet day at home, that’s fine, I have books to read, music to dance to and loved ones around me. If I’m out and about soaking up California sunshine, even better. If it’s day for treatment, all right, the treatment is only helping to rid muy body of these busybody cells. Life goes on…I look forward to a trip home in May. I look forward to celebrating Brandy’s birthday in Hawaii this summer. I look forward to whatever is next because I trust and believe that it’s all for my good.

 ©Nikki Rashan March 2015