I've really struggled with this post. My mind is a tangle of emotions and thoughts: joy and sadness, reflection and nothingness, hopes and fears. So much has happened in the last year. I have a precious new niece, I've gone back to work full time, Sydney is in pre-school, and I've had four more clear MRIs. Thank you, God! I've also struggled in my job, my relationships, and with my fears about recurrence.
I watched the funeral of Beau Biden, Joe Biden's son who died of brain cancer, on CNN last week. He was only 46. It was all I could think about. ("What type of tumor did he have? How long did he live after his diagnosis? He has access to the very best medicine out there. If he lost his battle, what chance do I have if mine comes back?") I tried to be cheerful because I was at work, but I was a mess inside.
Today marks three years since my surgery. We're celebrating at my sister's house because everyone knows I love a good (cancer-free) party. Any excuse to have cake and/or wine, call me! Today is also the day our dear aunt will have a mastectomy to remove her breast cancer. I was typing her a note of encouragement and remembered my "blessings box" with all the notes I'd received from friends, family and total strangers when I was going through my treatments.
I was overwhelmed again going through the box, not even stopping to read them all because it would take too long, but skimming through and flashing back to the pure hope and joy that each one brought me.
I especially love this one from my friend Casey:
"There are times when, without any anger in his heart, but with designs of love toward them, God treats his children, outwardly, as if he were an enemy to them. See the gardener going up to that beautiful tree. He takes out a sharp knife, feels its edge to be sure that it is keen, and then he begins pruning it here, gashing it there, and making it bleed in another place, as if he were going to cut it all to pieces. Yet all this is not because he has any anger against the tree, but, on the contrary, because he greatly values it, and wishes it to bring forth more fruit than it has ever done. Do not think that God's sharpest knife means death to his loved ones; it means more life, and richer, fuller life."
-- Charles Spurgeon
My next MRI is July 13th. Still having them quarterly. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't anxious. But on the other hand, I recognize that the Lord has gotten me this far, and I might be 100% cancer-free forever.
Thanks John for pushing me to update my blog. It can feel so self indulgent and narcissistic writing about myself, but it if it inspires one person in a positive way, it's all good.
Love,
Kim
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| Love how the light shines on my delightful child. |
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| She waited 30 min for this face painting in 90 degree weather with a black cardigan on. I'm in trouble when she starts to notice the makeup counters in department stores. |
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| Birthday beach drinks with my mate |
