Summer is almost over! At least in the cultural sense – school starts back this month, vacations end for many, etc. Here in the South however, summer, in the seasonal sense, will last well into October. Call it climate change, global warming, or whatever – I call it living in the subtropical southern state of Alabama. Here’s to another two months of warm days and iced tea.

August 25 will, for me, mark the end of the 24 week clinical study of which I’ve been a part since March 10. I’ve been on two drugs for one of the tumors, Herceptin by infusion and Tykerb orally, and in three weeks I can stop taking the oral medication! I’m very happy about this because that drug has been the one causing some uncomfortable side effects, primarily very dry skin and gastrointestinal issues (to put it mildly). ;-) I will continue with the Herceptin by infusion (chemotherapy) when I recover from surgery, as well as drugs to combat the estrogen-fed tumor (although they will have removed the tumors with the breast, I still have to take these drugs for an unspecified length of time).

So, the time is approaching when I will have a left mastectomy. I can’t say I’m very sorry to see that boob go – it’s clearly been trying to kill me. I will also be having all the lymph nodes under my left arm removed (I can’t quite pronounce what that procedure is called). At least one was infected with cancer, so they’re taking all of them out. I think my body will miss those little guys when they’re gone. Both procedures (mastectomy and lymph node thing) are scheduled for August 27.

After surgery and recovery I will restart the chemo and begin radiation. Radiation will last for 6 or 7 weeks – I’ll let you know what that’s like when I know. All I know is the purpose of the radiation is to kill any cancer cells that could possibly remain in the tissue beneath my left breast and left armpit and breastbone. Then, I will have to let my body heal completely from radiation before even thinking about reconstruction. I’m already thinking about reconstruction, anyway. Could be late winter (which in the South is February). ;-)

So that’s the plan. Between now and August 27 there will be many tests which we pray are all “within normal range”. That is a phrase I am striving towards with all my might.

To distract me from what’s happening in my own body, I am refocusing some energy on what is happening in Haiti. Some of you know I and my church are connected with a ministry in Haiti called Reaching Haiti 4 Christ. The focus of the ministry is Discipleship and Community Health. While those qualified in Biblical studies work with local Haitian pastors and ministry workers to further their understanding of Holy Scripture, others in the ministry are focused on the health of the community. We work specifically in one community outside of Port-au-Prince called Turbe, and in another community way west in the northwest corner of Haiti called Bombardopolis.

In Bombardopolis there are several smaller communities and we work with - specifically Faligant and Bellvue. What a privilege. My church took a team of four to that area the end of July and came back with fantastic news. A location has been found for a well in Faligant! This community’s closest well is 3 miles away and one can only walk to it. For most of the children of that community their days are spent first in school and then the afternoon is spent hauling water from the well to their homes. Hardly any time for play, which is so crucial to the healthy development of any child. The new well will be dug on the property of the ministry which means 1) the equipment for the functioning of the well will be protected from thievery, 2) the well itself will be open to anyone in the community free of charge. The ultimate result is healthier community!

All that is needed for this dream of clean water to become a reality is funding. Of the $16K+ needed, $5K has already been raised, which leaves around $11K to raise. Please consider contributing financially to make this well a reality. Please visit the ministry’s website to donate and specify it is for “the well in Faligant”. http://www.hope4haiti.net/sponsor.html  and click on the “Donate Now” text.

Give a child in Haiti the afternoon off from now on. Thankyou!

I'm in good spirits but am physically very very tired...zzzzzzzz. I feel the need to be rescued. Which reminds me of that time...
When I was hiking a steep trail overlooking the coast and my foot slipped and I felt the hand of God catch me and push me upwards to safety, and then years later when retelling that story my older sister Janet said, "Oh! That was me." :-)
Galicia, Spain, 1979

Can you believe half the summer is gone? I'm pretty thrilled about it. I'm that much closer to being cancer free. Don't worry - I'm not fooling myself counting my eggs before they hatch, so to speak. But I am counting on being okay, no matter what. I'll have some more emotionally bad days/weeks, but it's part of the grieving process, so I'm told - grieving the loss of my health. But I'll get it back.
This is one of those weeks when I feel great. So, I'm making the most of it. I got a massage, I've been to the grocery store everyday to pick up fresh ingredients for my smoothies and ice-cream. (Who knew I'd become so addicted to Talenti brand ice-cream? I'm the person who used to say, "Oh, I could go the rest of my life and not eat another bowl of ice-cream." And then this brand comes out. Good grief.)
And today I'm going swimming for the first time this summer. I feel as though my entire body is thirsty and needs to be underwater. I grew up swimming all summer either in the Atlantic or in a woodsy river or stream in Galicia, so for it to be July 11 and my head's not been submerged is beyond weird.
Weightless, quiet, soft. I love water. I'm thankful for my "friends" on instagram who are in Vigo, Galicia, Spain. There's one guy who posts short videos from under the waters of the Bahia de Vigo, and it's lovely. Click below for a taste of the beach in my hometown.
Here's to water.

It's a good moment to remember....
... that time when I was lying on a tropical beach in the middle of nowhere with my best and oldest friend and she texted her cook about what to prepare for dinner the next night when we returned home. THAT'S the life. ;-)
November 2006
Phu Quoc Island, Vietnam

I know someone once said "There's nothing to fear but fear itself" - I think it was someone important. However, I'm also fearful of pain and well, pain. I met with the surgeon yesterday and the detail with which my upcoming surgery was explained left a lot to the imagination. Because I have a very active imagination.
Not only am I fearful of the pain associated with it, but I am also fearful of things unseen; i.e.; the future. Right now I'm falling under the heavy blanket of "what ifs". What if the cancer comes back? What if the surgery goes wrong? What if I have a terrible infection? What if my gall bladder explodes? (yes, fear of the irrational is quite normal for me).
Of course fear with an upcoming major surgery is normal - anyone would be fearful. But I don't want the fear to dominate my outlook. I'm in need of some cheering up. Some pep talks. In the past I would turn to alcohol in an uncertain situation. Now I want to turn to cupcakes and art supplies, but I know that won't help. In truth, nothing earthly and tangible helps.
It's at times like these that I'm reminded of the deeper truth of holy scripture where it says something like, "Make all your requests known to God and.... He will give you peace beyond understanding." I also remember Jesus in the boat in the middle of the storm where He calmed the seas and made the wind stop. I kinda feel like I'm in the middle of a storm. Anxiety bubbling up in my chest and making me short of breath.
Surgery is in August - towards the end of the month. Then I face radiation. Then months of recovery before reconstructive surgery.
Ok. Deep, slow breaths. Deep, slow breaths....

Yesterday I was talking with a good friend at work who asked me how I was doing. I told her that I felt almost normal this week. Every week before my next treatment I forget I even have cancer - I feel that good. So I left the office feeling pretty upbeat. As I walked back to my car I listened to the messages on my phone that had come through during the morning and there was one reminding me of the appointment on Monday in the hematology/oncology department at Kirklin... my good mood was instantly deflated. I was reminded I actually do have cancer. (expletive here)
But I know deflated is not where I need to live. So I got home, watched the Mexico/Brazil game with the neighbors, cheered for Ochoa, the amazing little goalie for Mexico, ate some chips and salsa and forgot again.
Grace to forget for a few moments is grace indeed.
And thank GOD for the World Cup.

I'm remembering....
That moment at the top of the cliffs when I leaned back against an old pine tree while standing on its exposed roots and it was so windy that each gust would make the tree bend slightly and lift my feet off the ground with it.
Mt. Cheaha, Alabama, 1988