A brief back story:
My amazing husband and best friend has been a state trooper for the Utah Highway Patrol for 15 years. When we were first married we were both poor, young, college students trying to complete our bachelor's degrees and it wasn't long before we had a new baby girl to love and cuddle. Soon after that, the company he was working for closed its doors. He felt a lot of pressure to provide for our new little family. In looking at a new career, he disclosed to me that he had always felt like he should go into police work. I had a hard time adjusting to that idea. I come from a family of college educators and professors, many of whom have PhDs. And no guns in the house. It was strange (and scary to me) to think that there would multiple guns in our house and a husband toting guns and wearing body armor every day... So foreign to me.
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A journal entry from the hospital April 17: "I was grateful to be well enough to be able to attend church today in the hospital chapel. And grateful for the whisperings of the Spirit as I reflected during the sacrament. I was reminded of the baptismal covenants that I and others have made to mourn with those that mourn, to comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as a witness of Jesus Christ in word and deed (Mosiah 18:9, Book of Mormon). I am forever grateful for friends and family who have exercised their covenants particularly on my and my family's behalf as of late. And I was also reminded of times when I have been blessed with strength and ability to be the one on the giving end instead of the receiving end. Such tenderness and gratitude filled my heart and partaking of the sacrament today became a very sacred experience for me." Email to my mama:
This night has been typical - went to bed about 10:30 and woke up at 4:30. A little to early for my liking, but my body is awake and there's no going back to sleep now! A long time ago I asked you how it felt to be "shocky" as a type I diabetic. I kept pressing you and finally you said, "It feels like I'm dying." I've always remembered that. We aren't a big nickname sort of family, but my parents have their pet names that they use for us on occasion. My mom has always affectionately referred to my sister as "Goldilocks" and to me as "Rapunzel" since we were both very young. She adored our long tresses and it wasn't until my teens that I was even allowed to have my hair cut above my shoulders. In fact, I'm surprised my sister and I have bangs in this picture! (Side note: my mom is a fantastic seamstress - pretty sure those t-shirts in the photo are homemade!) Well, one of the effects of radiation is hair loss. I'm not exactly feeling the part of Rapunzel these days. It's not as bad as it could be, but it is unnerving and an unwelcome visual reminder of all the junk my body is going through. I got two botox injections, yesterday - What do you think? Not bad, eh? Actually, those sweet lips of mine are a product of playing the trumpet in Jr. High and High School. And all that practice smooching my hubby. (How do you think we ended up with 6 kids?) Now that I've got you blushing, I'll disclose the true site of the Botox injection: my left ankle and calf. But why Botox? You'll want to read my story from the previous post "What I Can Do With A Straw" before reading my reflections below.
I have related this story to many friends and family, so forgive me if you've heard it before.
But it was a powerful experience that reminded me of some very important things and has since brought me a lot of hope and comfort. The end of May, two weeks into my radiation treatment, I woke up with a nasty headache. Most likely due to swelling in my brain at the site of the tumor bed caused by the radiation beams. I have been pretty lucky to be able to manage my pain at home solely with Tylenol, but this morning I was reaching for the stronger narcotics leftover from my hospital stay. When I meet up with a friend or loved one I haven't seen in a while, they are always curious about my situation. But they don't always have time for the War & Peace version of my story. So this is a summary of my situation, something to build on for future reference (hence an entire blog dedicated to my brain!)
I've been dealing with this brain beast the better part of 2016 and while I've used social media and emails to keep loved ones updated on my situation, I've had several people ask me if I am keeping a journal, including our family physician. I'm generally a traditional pen and paper journalist. With the loss of mobility in my left-hand, and being "a lefty" journalling felt like another unsurmountable task to add to my list of "maybe someday".
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December 2020
About MeMy name is Andrea. I'm a Mormon mom in my 40's and I am fighting a rare type of brain cancer: Anaplastic Astrocytoma. |