Some side effects of miracles...

Abi's school was closed today. We had a really, really nice day together. Weekends have been so busy that there's normally no chance to relax, but today we were able to relax and just enjoy hanging out. It makes me feel so much better about everything.

She has been behaving better, so thanks very much for your prayers. God helped a lot and showed me more things I could do to get things consistent again. We're getting there, but it's still one day at a time. On the other hand, Naomi is a happy, happy, happy baby almost all the time. She is naughty in an 18-month-old way but our relationship has improved massively over the past few months, and she seems really well-adjusted.

Altogether, things seem sort of...normal now. I know what to expect every day and hardly any of it is bad. I want to like it, but I can't get comfortable. I have no big problems to consume my thoughts so I just coast through the days without a care in the world, then when I have a bit of time I am overcome with memories from this time last year. I believe I am fully healed, and much of my anxiety has waned in the past few months, but I am still so damaged by it all. I should be happy that I went through all this and got my miracle, but I'm just saddened by it. I'm angry that I will spend every day until I die as a person who might have cancer come back. I am doing my best to cling to the memory of the miracle, and to build my faith in the meantime. But I have yet to come across anyone with a similar miracle who didn't have any hint of a recurrence. Instead, I have learned the key is to not accept it, and through faith and prayer it usually disappears. Good plan, right? NO! I don't want that! I don't want any fear or chance of it returning. That would be a test, and I don't want anymore tests!

I don't want to grow, I don't want to learn, I just want to be happy and healthy forever.

It's so stupid, but I won't even pray for certain things anymore because I'm afraid of they way God might answer. If you remember, I was praying intently for someone's salvation, promising the Lord I would do anything for him to know Him. Right after that I was diagnosed with the same illness that killed his mother when he was a kid. I will tell you I believe his lack of accepting the Lord from that was the only failure from my diagnosis and healing. It might have enhanced his belief a bit, but didn't bring him all the way to Jesus' loving arms. Do you think I pray the same way for him now? NO WAY. No way. nope. Can't risk it.

So, there you have it. We'll call these issues "side effects" of the miracle. I know my mindset is wrong about a lot of things. I need prayer I guess. And faith. Mostly faith. In the meantime, it is back to basics: Get my mind off me and toward God, then everything else will fall into place. "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again, rejoice!"

Philippians 4:4-9
Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

Today

This is my first bad day since the surgery. I had successfullly stayed in a daze of denial until now. To give you an idea, it is 9:30 am and I am still in bed. Remember, I have children so staying here until 7:30 would have been a luxury. So, the sun was streaming in on me more than usual, and I gingerly stretched and opened my eyes, as if I was to see a beautiful ocean view. Instead, I saw my femininely-painted pink nails, resting on the special mastectomy camisole I slept in. When zipped, the camisole hides my drains and pads my chest, so I almost feel human. But I suppose I unzipped myself for comfort during the night, as my hand was resting comfortably on the zipper, between two enormous sets of hideous scars and staples. The scars look very much like those on Frankenstein's head, to give you an idea. But they're bloody and brown, with a rainbow of bruising surrounding them, instead of a pleasant green that he had.

I'm so down today and don't know how to get through it. I suppose there's no real way to "give up" now anyway. Even if I opted to kill myself I couldn't, because I would look like this in my casket.

Alas, I will get through this too. Something good will come of it, right? I must outlive this cancer to know for certain that the generational mutation I have has been broken and my girls will not suffer from it. I can't tell you how desperately I don't want them to go through this. The testing is supposed to be a good thing, because there are things they can do to decrease their chances of the cancer. But, don't you know, the recommendations are that they have prophylactic mastectomies and their ovaries removed as soon as they are done having children. I understand that as the best-case scenario there are worse things, but right now those are the very difficult realities that are nearly breaking me.

By the way, no pathology report yet but last week I don't think I updated that my tumor markers came back great. A score of 0-40 is for normal people, and mine was 26.5. Amazing!

Romans 5:3-4, "Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perserverance; perserverance character; and character, hope."

Excuse me while I go rejoice...