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Writing Through Cancer: When life hurts, writing can help. Weekly writing prompts for those living with debilitating illness, pain or trauma.

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Stories—the small personal ones that bring us close as well as those of the larger world—foster compassion.  In the telling of our personal lives, we’re reminded of our basic, human qualities—our vulnerabilities and strengths, foolishness and wisdom, who we are…, through the exchange of stories, [you] help heal each other’s spirits.

–Patrice Vecchione, Writing and the Spiritual Life

Growing up, I was a shy child. As the years went on, I came out of my shyness a little, but as I grew older and started getting serious about life the shyness reappeared in certain situations.

I think we all go through an awkward phase as a child, I’d say I hit mine around the sixth-grade or seventh-grade. The summer I turned twelve years old, I shot up over six inches in height. Mom thought she was purchasing stylish glasses for me, when truth be told, they were the ugliest glasses I had ever seen.

Anyone with an opportunity and a mean streak took it upon themselves to let me know how gawky and goofy I looked in those glasses. As I got taller, I was the second tallest girl in my class and the first girl to develop in all the right places. I was taller than everyone in the class. That just added to the fire.

Another thing that added to my “nerdy” status is that I developed allergies as a child. I grew up when they didn’t know how to treat allergies. I was always sick, had a lot of food allergies and did a ton of throwing up after meals. Not so easy to make friends when you are literally the snotty girl, always scratching and have the ability to vomit at the drop of a hat. Kids can be so mean. I was sick so much, mom thought I needed to see a doctor daily. The ironic thing about mom running me to the doctor constantly, was that the brain tumor I have has been there since I was a child. I was sick, but not for any of the reasons she was taking me to the doctor.

All of these, should have been good things, but the kids I grew up with saw a vulnerable girl they could hurl their latest ammunition at. It was like some bully kept a book and said “let’s pick on her today.”

One stupid new girl decided she would target me on her own. I became her pet project at her new school. She took particular dislike to my glasses. I was called “Four-Eyes” so many times in the eighth-grade that I decided to let her foolishness stop bothering me and decided to kill her with kindness. Sometime in the night-grade,  the bullying stopped. The new girl, never turned nice through four-years of high school, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t let her get to me.

I took my classes, did my school work and survived high school. Most of us do. What you have to remember about bullies, is that they are just jealous or sometimes it could be as boy or girl who is sweet on you and doesn’t know how to handle their own feelings. Be patient growing up, God will get up through it! I went to college away from everyone I had known for years.

After graduating high school, the shy girl came flying out of me again. Nursing school put me into situations I didn’t know how to handle, so I did my best. If I was uncomfortable in a situation, I worked my way through it. After I was married the first time, I ran into people here and there. What I noticed the most, was they acted like we were life long friends. God says to forgive and I have forgiven.

Doctors are not kind to new nurses or old ones at that. My first nursing job, opened my eyes to how crude the medical profession can be. You would not believe, what goes on behind the scenes, at some hospitals here in Georgia. In all my life, I did not realize how ugly people can be to one another. I grew-up quickly.

After my first husband and I divorced, one of my first jobs as a single woman was at the local jail in my hometown. The saddest part of that job, was seeing more people I went to high school with in jail than on the streets of town. A few were hard to believe, but others I had seen in trouble for years. I dated a deputy for a while, and he got a bit stalkerish. Someone in jail, that I had known for years, stood up for me. He did the right thing and said something when the time was right. I never got the chance to say thank you! Thank you, Joe! I know he’ll never see this, but at least I have said it.

I went through many jobs, that finally lead me to the career I was meant to have. I stayed with that career until I was forced into retirement by a nasty brain tumor called a gangliocytoma. I would later discover the tumor was just a symptom of a genetic disorder called Cowden Syndrome. Sine that diagnosis, I have survived Thyroid Cancer and I am dealing with breast cancer. Every month, I am in some doctor’s office being probed, prodded or x-rayed.

Note to all doctor’s that do lumpectomies, tell your patient’s about the fluid build-up possibility and the possibility of acting like a leaky pipe under your arm. It would make life after lumpectomy less stressful.

I’m getting tired, but I refuse to let this mess get the best of me. God has a plan for my life, otherwise I wouldn’t still be around. It is not my place to question that plan. I have tolerated this breast cancer episode better than things in the past. Either I am tired of fighting, or learning how to give it to God finally. I’ve prayed about the subject. It must be sinking in.

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Update: Jill

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Jill is doing well. Surgery started late and took longer than anticipated. Now we wait 7-10 days for pathology report. We finally got her home. I got her settled in her chair, all doped up and sleeping. Now  I.m gonna figure dinner out and sit myself down soon! Thank you all for your prayers and support. Jill truly enjoys blogging and enjoys all of you!

Thank you,

Barry Baynes

 

Daily Prompt: Cringe-Worthy

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Do you feel uncomfortable when you see someone ;else being embarrassed? What’s most likely to make you squirm?

What makes me uncomfortable is seeing anyone think they have the right to attack someone, in public, for whatever reason.

I wouldn’t call the feeling I get, uncomfortable. It leans more toward anger than uncomfortable. As Americans we have rights. In my book, one right should most definitely be; the right not to be attacked in public unjustly.

I feel more uncomfortable for the person doing the attacking. Not only is what they are doing embarrassing, it is just not nice. The reason/cause of the attack doesn’t matter. It, flat-out, is not right!

Coming down off my ‘Nice’ high horse, I’ll admit there is something in public that makes me cringe and want to point something out to another person. I never do it, but I feel terrible for even thinking about it.

I’m embarrassed to start with, that today’s society has a named things like “muffin tops“, “whale tales”, “tramp stamps”, and “bro-pants”. It is just sad that our society thinks it is OK to dress the way they do out in public. Since when is it OK to wear your pj’s to the grocery store?

As a woman, when I see another woman or girl out in public dressed as if they should be wearing “Spanx” from head to toe makes me cringe.

I am uncomfortable being shown the top of someone’s rear when in public. Call me old-fashioned, I do not care! Whatever happened to having a little mystery in your life? Do you have to show all you goodies off, every time you are out in public?

Next time you think you are ready to leave the house, take a second look. Think about the people who will be looking at you once you leave your home. Have a little mercy, please!

 

Coping with a Rare Disease and What It Can Do to Those You Love

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If you have followed my blog at all, you are aware that my family and I have been through the wringer over the past several years.

Barry‘s stroke was a huge surprise. He is alive and kicking today, thanks to modern medicine and the quick responses of the local EMS, emergency room and Emory University Hospital in Atlanta, Ga.

Our journey started over four years ago when I was found to have a brain tumor pressing into my mid-brain that needed removing  quickly. If you don’t know much about the brain, your vital function are regulated in the mid-brain.

Long story short, the brain tumor was just a symptom of a genetic disorder called Cowden Syndrome. It truly isn’t a big deal to check. The trick is to stay vigilant and organized with check-ups and diagnostic testing. If you don’t something can sneak up on you and bite you in the honey.

Cowden Syndrome is a mutation of the PTEN gene. It makes you body unable to stop formation of certain types of tumors. The tumors that develop are  benign or cancerous. They can also appear quickly.

I have already been through three episodes of issues from Cowden Syndrome and survived each without major issue. I am about to tackle the fourth. We were lucky to catch this one early, like one other. Hopefully this will be a breeze like a few others.

I can now state that I am not only a Thyroid Cancer Survivor, I will soon be able ta add breast cancer Survivor to that list. I am not sure I like making a list of the cancers I have survived, but I’m glad I’m still here.

As long as I follow-up with my list of 20+ doctors monthly as they ask, I can keep these issues under control without adding another cancer to the list.

Since my condition is rare, I have joined a research study on Cowden out of the Cleveland Clinic in Ohio. Hopefully this research can help someone else breeze through this mess of a disease. Currently, 1 in 200,000 thousand people diagnosed yearly.

Barry has been my rock. Even after the stroke. He’s hanging in with me. We take care of each other. My mother has been with us almost a year. Her health is declining a bit. Barry and I take care of her issues, as they come up. Mom is having trouble dealing with giving up her independence and she isn’t taking it very well.

Our local friends called and came around for a while, but have slowly disappeared from the picture. It really hurt Barry’s feelings to start with, but he has since realized that people have trouble dealing with change and they don’t know how to handle our illnesses.

What has hurt the most for me, is the change in my older sister’s attitude toward me. I called to tell her I have breast cancer, she stated she was speechless and I have not heard a word from her since.

After I had brain surgery, her attitude changed because of my communication problems. We used to talk at least once a week. Now that I am healthier, her attitude has not changed. I love her dearly and will do anything in the world for her. She is my sister, that will never change.

When I attempt to discuss it with her, she denies everything. I miss what we had. Barry thinks her attitude change is because of him, I tell him continuously that Sandy isn’t like that. My younger sister and I are closer than ever.

My mom does her best to deal with my illness. She starts to cry every time she is around me and looks at me as if it is the last time she will ever see me. I talk with her and ask her to help me get through life. I told her I need her strength, not her tears. She’s getting better. My nieces and nephews all treat me the same.

Barry and I have found a church home. Mom goes with us. The church has welcomed us as if we had gone there for years. They offer many areas of ministry that gives us many choices to volunteer and get involved. We all enjoy Victory Baptist Church in Loganville, Ga.

At GMC

At GMC

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Daily Prompt: History of Language

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Write a piece of fiction describing the incident that gave rise to the phrase, “third time’s the charm.”

Barry and I sat attempting to put a table together, we had purchased. The directions appeared to be useless and there were a million parts to organize into one table. We were starting to have regrets.

He got a bit angry with me for making a suggestion, so I got up and left it for him. Before leaving, I handed him the directions and strongly suggested that he read them, from cover to cover.

After a while, Barry called me back to help. I  went willingly. He may be grumpy teddy bear when being told how to do something, but he really just wants a little help and doesn’t know how to ask for it.

I like to think God was working on his heart when he got grumpy and then called me back for help.

The first thing I did was ask if he had read the directions, yet! When he giggled and took the book from me, was God whispering in his ear to listen to his wife?

We worked together for an hour and the table turned out perfect.

Is this where the saying, “third time’s the charm” came from?

First, we tried together.

Second, he got angry and I ran off.

Third, he asked for my help, read the directions and the table is perfect.

God works in mysterious ways! Was He telling Barry to ask his wife for help?