Today is the first full day after my diagnosis with breast cancer. We went through mass hysteria last night. Crying, stopping, crying again - and I woke up to my husband's tears this morning.
That 7 o'clock call last night from my doctor rocked our world. My biopsy and lumpectomy last week had resulted in the very thing we all feared to most. I'm 40, just 40 years old. My youngest is 3. I couldn't get past that last night. I looked at my gardens and realized I might not see them bloom next year. My baby planted her first zinnia seeds this year and she's so proud. Would I see her plant them and puff up with pride next year?
Faith is a tissue-paper like thing at times like this. I felt mine was rock solid until yesterday. I know different now. I asked God last night "why me? why my babies? why can't I have another baby? why now?" I wanted to give my husband just one more child, hoping against hope for a boy. That hope is gone now. But my faith is back tenfold with the love and faith of my family and dear friends.
I think many of us hear breast cancer stories and quietly say to ourselves, "thank God it's not me." I know I did. My mother had it and survived (5 years in October 2008). The big C hit me smack in the face last night. What I've come to realize just in one day is that no matter what anyone says, no matter what stories they tell of breast cancer survivors, I am ME and my breast cancer fight is individual and unique. I'm not like anyone else, nor will my treatment be like anyone else who's fought this fight.
I think that's how I'm going to handle the gloom and doomers. Tell me your uplifting stories, tell me your Mom is a 15 year survivor. But don't tell me the bad stuff. Because bad won't happen to me. I won't let anything rock my faith like the news from last night did. Not ever again.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Herons and such...
It's pushing 110 degrees with the heat index here in Maryland. Summer has come with a vengeance just as it usually does. There's very little springtime middle road in these parts.
So, let's talk herons. This blog domain name and my freelance pen name too are named after the illustrious and majestic Great Blue Heron. I think they are a lovely bird. However, the true reason for stealing the "heron" name is a little bit funnier.
My dad has a beautiful landscaped back yard with 3 fish ponds. A few years ago, there were some 1-foot long gorgeous koi in his pond. One day, he happened upon a great blue heron having breakfast, using Dad's fish pond as his meal ticket. Said blue heron wiped out half the pond over the next few weeks.
Needless to say, a good deal of venting occurred. The dogs patrolled the back yard, but usually were napping when the heron came for a meal. Dad's pond took a decided hit that year--he probably lost half of his fish (the ponds are prolific breeding ponds with upwards of 200 fish).
The most annoying part of the blue heron visits was the bird's pure cockiness. That thing would sit on the stockade fence, eyeballing us while he licked his birdie chops after his meal. Then the worst part was that he invited his friends. My pen name comes from some unmentionable cuss words uttered by my parents over that bird (s_____ f______ heron) - you get the picture.
Herons are territorial so he kept coming back until he obviously found a better fishing hole. Obviously, he told his friends. The birds show up without fail every year. Some stay longer than others and many times, my Dad is forced to cover all the ponds with nets to protect the fish. The heron is a pain.
BTW, the heron is a protected species in Maryland so pump action bb guns aren't an option. At most, we were allowed to direct a water gun at the arrogant bird. Of course, he laughed.
Today my darling Dad woke me at 7:30 with the announcement on the phone that he doesn't have a great blue heron visiting him anymore. He now has a green heron. He can't catch a birdie break.
Here's a picture of a green heron:
Pretty isn't he? Remember that my Dad can't claim him as a tax write off!
I'm wondering if there will be an all out birdie war in my Dad's backyard when the blue heron meets the green heron. I'll keep you posted.
So, let's talk herons. This blog domain name and my freelance pen name too are named after the illustrious and majestic Great Blue Heron. I think they are a lovely bird. However, the true reason for stealing the "heron" name is a little bit funnier.
My dad has a beautiful landscaped back yard with 3 fish ponds. A few years ago, there were some 1-foot long gorgeous koi in his pond. One day, he happened upon a great blue heron having breakfast, using Dad's fish pond as his meal ticket. Said blue heron wiped out half the pond over the next few weeks.
Needless to say, a good deal of venting occurred. The dogs patrolled the back yard, but usually were napping when the heron came for a meal. Dad's pond took a decided hit that year--he probably lost half of his fish (the ponds are prolific breeding ponds with upwards of 200 fish).
The most annoying part of the blue heron visits was the bird's pure cockiness. That thing would sit on the stockade fence, eyeballing us while he licked his birdie chops after his meal. Then the worst part was that he invited his friends. My pen name comes from some unmentionable cuss words uttered by my parents over that bird (s_____ f______ heron) - you get the picture.
Herons are territorial so he kept coming back until he obviously found a better fishing hole. Obviously, he told his friends. The birds show up without fail every year. Some stay longer than others and many times, my Dad is forced to cover all the ponds with nets to protect the fish. The heron is a pain.
BTW, the heron is a protected species in Maryland so pump action bb guns aren't an option. At most, we were allowed to direct a water gun at the arrogant bird. Of course, he laughed.
Today my darling Dad woke me at 7:30 with the announcement on the phone that he doesn't have a great blue heron visiting him anymore. He now has a green heron. He can't catch a birdie break.
Here's a picture of a green heron:
Pretty isn't he? Remember that my Dad can't claim him as a tax write off!
I'm wondering if there will be an all out birdie war in my Dad's backyard when the blue heron meets the green heron. I'll keep you posted.
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